Whether it’s the distinction of a corporately-owned title, or the sense of personal achievement, I can’t help but feel like I’m in a strange place these days. I registered for IMLP about 2 years ago, without any real game plan or goals. I spent the first year leading up to the 2008 event training vigorously, but without any real direction or discipline. Needless to say, I ended up injured and unable to compete, leaving me no real choice but to regroup and train for '09. And train, I did.
The last year was probably the smartest I’ve ever trained, and the results were evident. I was faster across the board, and my injuries (if you can call them that) were more like temporary annoyances. Race day came, and I felt fully prepared. The swim was about 6-7 minutes ahead of my projected time, and finishing the first loop of the bike, my split was nearly 8 minutes ahead of my training rides on the course. Not only was I going faster, but I felt better than I had in any of my long rides this season. Then came mile 85 and the crash. A knee blown open, lots of stitches, some fractured ribs, but the helmet did its job. The day, and my season, ended there - but I’ll live to fight another day.
So now, I’m stuck in limbo. I’ve put in the training, done all of the preparation, and learned a lot of lessons along the way. Yet, I cannot call myself an Ironman. Yeah, it’s just a name - and a vastly exploited one at that. However, I can’t help but feel that I’m somehow less-than-qualified to dispense advice or comment on the matter. The only thing I can tell myself is … waaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh for me. It’s probably the oxycodone at work, but I felt compelled to share this with the greater community. And yes, like any stubborn asshole, I did register for IMLP '10.
Well, all I can say is that when you finish (you will) - you will certainly feel quite a sense of accomplishment! I didn’t feel anything after my last IM finish (unlike my first) other than looking for my family, which was a clue for me to move on for a while.
Don’t talk about it again until you finish it. Bottle up the energy you are spending blabbering on about it, and utilize to train and prepare. Not finishing is being underprepared mentally or physically. You’re not in limbo, you’ve just failed twice.
Sorry to hear that after all your hard training you were taken out of the race by a crash.
Great to hear that you registered for 2010. It will make that finish all the sweeter when you do cross the line.
I was supposed to race IMLP in 2008, but had to watch from the sidelines in a wheelchair due to major back surgery that included a spinal fusion. I got back on the horse as quickly as possible and despite not being able to start training again until December, I finally finished the race last Sunday. While the finish was great, it also made me realize that I gained a lot more from the hours of training, meeting new people, spending time outdoors, enjoying a healthy lifestyle, etc. So, while I know you’ll love earning that Ironman title, don’t get so focused on it that you miss out on all the fun and benefits between now and then.
If you’re on Oxycotin I’m guessing you’re probably in a fair bit of pain, but be careful with that stuff. My old family doctor misprescribed it when I was struggling with my back problems. I became addicted and had to go on a home detox plan. Not fun. Be careful.
Limbo is an awful place to be and even more frustrating when you’re so close to accomplishing a long sought goal. I can empathize with you. Two years ago at the top of my game I had a bike accident that resulted in a spinal injury, months in bed with paralysis and the loss of use of my left side for the 18 months. 80 pounds later I’m signed up for IMLP and getting back in the game.
The point of the above isn’t to compare injuries, but to say that after 2 years of tears and frustration and a flabby, atrophied body that resembles that of a senior citizen who’s eaten too many “blue light specials” (and I’m only 42), what I’ve learned is that it’s always possible to come back and that it’s important to never stop striving for the end goal. Like Dr. Zuess says, sometimes you just have to be in “the waiting place.” And its’ such a terrible place to be. But, oh the places you will go when you get out of there. And what I’m learning pretty damn quick is that the knowledge (mental and physical) never left. It’s always been there, just waiting to be re-engaged and harnessed again.
As for stoptriassletes comment that “you’ve only failed twice,” I don’t usually take a run at people on forums, but that comment is so loaded with the immaturity and arrogance of someone who hasn’t ever had to face lifes challenges that it’s barely worth mentioning.
Hang in there and keep your eyes looking down the road. Nothing to see here, so keep passing through.
Funny, I didn’t feel anything after my first one, but I blame that not putting in any real effort in training, therefore, not getting out a good race result.
This year is quite different, and I hope GFT and IMCDA give me some sense of accomplishment.
Don’t dwell on it. You have had a rash of bad luck but do analyze what went wrong and unemotionally do what you can to fix it. First year, did I go at training to hard, not listen to my body, or was it just a freak injury? Second year: was it my bike handling skills, a rogue car, or again a freak accident? Do something about the things you can change and don’t worry about the things you can.
I agree with the poster who said that experience isn’t a requirement for the internet;)
That said, your day will come and it will mean more because of your struggles. Sometimes this board is great because there is such a shared intense obsession with triathlon but it is also important to take what people say here with a grain of salt. Like I have said in another post, by reading ST you start to think everyone finishes in 10 hours, goes to Kona every year after riding the TDF, everyone either trains 24/7 or IM is so easy for them that they only work out 2 hours a week, and generally have a blase attitude about “just finishing” an IM.
For what it is worth, triathlons aren’t only IM. I know some super fast people who have never done more than a 5K or maybe a sprint tri but they are excellent atheletes. Don’t worry about it, do some shorter races, have fun, and don’t take it so seriously that you don’t even enjoy doing it. I have known a lot of people who used to get so worked up after races berrating themselves about their results—none of them do IM or even triathlons anymore. They said it just started to feel like it was their second job.
Don’t dwell on it. You have had a rash of bad luck but do analyze what went wrong and unemotionally do what you can to fix it. First year, did I go at training to hard, not listen to my body, or was it just a freak injury? Second year: was it my bike handling skills, a rogue car, or again a freak accident? Do something about the things you can change and don’t worry about the things you can.
I agree with the poster who said that experience isn’t a requirement for the internet;)
That said, your day will come and it will mean more because of your struggles. Sometimes this board is great because there is such a shared intense obsession with triathlon but it is also important to take what people say here with a grain of salt. Like I have said in another post, by reading ST you start to think everyone finishes in 10 hours, goes to Kona every year after riding the TDF, everyone either trains 24/7 or IM is so easy for them that they only work out 2 hours a week, and generally have a blase attitude about “just finishing” an IM.
For what it is worth, triathlons aren’t only IM. I know some super fast people who have never done more than a 5K or maybe a sprint tri but they are excellent atheletes. Don’t worry about it, do some shorter races, have fun, and don’t take it so seriously that you don’t even enjoy doing it. I have known a lot of people who used to get so worked up after races berrating themselves about their results�none of them do IM or even triathlons anymore. They said it just started to feel like it was their second job.
The first year was nothing more than poor planning/training on my part. This year, I fell victim to a freak accident. I could have done more training (as is always the case), but my training went well and I was on pace for a near-certain sub-12 finish (if my marathon fell apart) and a potential sub-11 finish (if I managed so much as a relatively poor marathon). I felt good on the day up to the DNF point, so the season was not a loss. I set 3 PRs along the way, and have about 50 weeks to get my swimming and biking into a more competitive range. At this point, I have no choice but to be optimistic - after all, the two worst racing outcomes (no-show and DNF) are already behind me. And as a guy at the expo said to me the day after the race … “at least you can still wipe your own ass.” That’s deep.
