A few months ago, I travelled to South Western Connecticut for a big Half Ironman. I was fired up and ready to rock. I was fit and strong and full of early season energy.
I hit the race course...and bombed. I made some errors and ended up walking and begging for mercy along the way. Ouch. Not the way I like to attack my races.
I kicked my feet in the dirt and analyzed those 5 hours for a few days. Or maybe, a week or two.
And then, I got over it. Temporarily. I learned some good lessons and accepted that I am human and have bad races from time to time. We all do.
Ok. That was then and this is now. I want revenge on that torturous June day.
Timberman 70.3 will arrive in a few short days and I am going to proove to myself that I can in fact tear up a Half Iron course. I can't wait.
My training has gone pretty well. By the end of last week, my legs were screaming for mercy. I have started resting now and I can feel the energy and zipp returning...slowly but surely. I don't need it all today. I need it sunday. So I patiently wait and do what I can in the meantime. I drink my recovery drinks after every workout, I go to bed early (on that note...better finsish this up...) and I won't overschedule the fun this week. (unlike the rest of this summer. Phew! Can't keep this crazy pace up forever!)
I won't lie. My mojo has waxed and waned this summer. I have gone through some bonafide ups and downs in my head this season... questioning what I am doing and why. I'll save that for another post.
My successful 10K last week pushed me back into my zone. I can't explain why...but something clicked inside me. Good timing...I am more than ready to do my best on sunday.
Tomorrow I will start the day with a swim. Each workout I do this week pulls extreme focus and plannning from me.
It's race week and I am on a mission.