A Pep Talk to Myself

Got my third triathlon tomorrow. It's a 'super sprint'. Yeah, whatever. ;)  There's a 300m swim (in a pool, glory hallelujah!), 11 mile bike and 3 mile run.

I would happily, HAPPILY, move a couple of running miles or 100m of swimming over to the bike portion.  Now here's a perfect triathlon for me: 100m swim, 25 mile bike, 2 mile run. See? Perfection. No one else seems to see it that way. Hmmph.

I have to choose my triathlons based on the swim. When people ask, "What triathlon are you training for?" I answer, "The one with the shortest swim." But I'm getting better peeps, slowly but surely, I'm getting better. I only have to stop once now on my way down Barton Springs and once on my way back. It was not so long ago that I stopped three or four times each way. I think I can tread water for a full 15 seconds too without begging for Christ's second coming.

Most of my triathlon training energy has been spent on learning how to swim and overcoming my phobias anxiety in the open water. This means that my running, the thing I've done with the most consistency the last few years, has had to take a back seat (think: back seat of a Greyhound bus). Second to swimming has been learning how to bike with clips and gears and the "big ring" and "small ring" and all that sort of complicated stuff.  Complicated or not, if I knew how much I'd enjoy cycling, I'd have started a long time ago. Not that I'm so terribly speedy, but that's fun stuff. Heck, if I knew how much I'd enjoy all of triathlon training, I'd have started that a long time ago too.

I read an article about Phelps recently and in regards to the 4x200 relay, in which the American team won gold, he said, "It shows that hard work pays off." Okay, I'm a nobody learning how to swim, but he's darn right. So simple. So difficult. Whether it's for the Olympics or just a suburban mom learning how to swim, the same principle applies: consistent and persistent work will get results. Hard work is the "magic bullet" for which so many people quick answers.


It's easy to want to hop around to every boot camp, TZPQX workout and barre-pole-dance thingy hoping that I'll see instant results and sudden prowess in the water (and/or on the bike). Honestly, it can be frustrating to see people gliding up and down Barton Springs while I can't. I was sorta-kinda hoping I'd be further along by now. I have to remind myself that my best bet for getting better is to really stick with my goal -- and give it some time. Centimeter by centimeter, my swimming is improving. Mile by mile, my cycling is improving. 


Didja know that bronze medalists tend to be happier than silver medalists? I looked it up on a hunch after watching the Olympics, and lo and behold, it's been documented. Apparently, bronze medalists are just happy to have won a medal at all. They had to have worked their tail off, and they felt satisfied about their results. Still in the record books. Third in just the, you know... whole world. Wouldn't you be happy? I hope I would.

Viktoria Komova after winning silver (source)

Reese Hoffa after winning bronze (source)

You and I are probably not going to win a gold medal nor a triathlon (if you do, message me, because we need to be better friends ;)).  But I'd like to have the attitude of a bronze medalist tomorrow and in everything I do. (Not that I'm coming in third in the triathlon tomorrow. That would be plain silly.) I've done the math, and here's the equation:

 hard work  

+  grateful attitude 

=  a happy outcome 

Bronze medalists sleep better at night. I'm sure of it. On that note, I should go to bed soon. It's rise and shine at 4:45a.m.  :-)


No one has ever become poor by giving. ~ Anne Frank

Doing Things I Cannot Do

Barton Springs last week

Learning to swim these past 3 months has been difficult enough for this not-so-much lover of water. And open water swims? That's a whole new level of terrify. All I can think about as I stand on a lake shore is how there is no escape route. I can walk anytime when I'm tired of running, and I can slow my cadence if a hill is killing me on the bike. But I will D-I-E (perish, I tell ya') a horrible death if I get too tired of swimming. I'm a little addicted to living, I really am, and I have no desire to die in that horribly claustrophobic way. I'd rather fall out of an airplane and splat on concrete.

So, here I am, with a solid resume of 42 years of water phobia under my belt, still plugging along at TRIathlon training. Why, you ask? I'm not so terribly sure, except to say that I believe that I should. Nobody would fault me if I gave up swimming tomorrow, and I know that. You'd all understand. We all have insecurities, anxieties, and even phobias, and we should give each other grace for them. 

A funny thing happened on the way to my first marathon, though. I became bolder. With each difficult thing I did, I was emboldened to do more difficult things. The physical gave way to the spiritual. As I strengthened my body the Spirit strengthened within me. I have always said that I would never do triathlons because of that darn swim part. So after the marathon, guess what I decided to do?

With this new emboldened feeling, I wish I could report to you my massive successes in open water swimming. Um, no. I'm inching towards getting better, but I still tense up completely. I can't make it 50m in open water without holding on to a swim can and breathing like Godzilla was on my tail. I seriously need some sort of hypno-psycho-behavioral-therapy. Anybody got suggestions?

Last week, I started back to open water swimming (at Barton Springs) after a 2 1/2 week absence. I stood in the shallow water for what seemed like hours, talking myself into diving in. Oh my goodness, it was not easy for me to start up again. I'm sure the lifeguards had some sort of walkie-talkie "code-yellow" action on my bright pink swim cap standing there. "Swimming poser with a look of terror detected in yonder pink cap. Keep your eyes peeled for her," is what I imagine them to say.

And like in marathon training, I told myself, "Ain't nobody gonna swim this for you. YOU. Have. Got to do this." (Seriously, that's exactly what I tell myself. The bad grammar double-negative stuff just gets it through my brain more quickly.)

So, I dived in and took MY leap of faith.  So what if I stopped every 10m to hold on to that God's gift of a side-bar? I dived. ;)

The long-awaited rains have fallen hard upon the thirsty ground
and carved their way to where the wild and rushing river can be found
And like the rains I have been carried here to where the river flows, yeah
My heart is racin' and my knees are weak as I walk to the edge
I know there is no turning back once my feet have left the ledge
And in the rush I hear a voice, it's telling me it's time to
Take the leap of faith
So here I go

I'm diving in
I'm going deep
In over my head I wanna be
Caught in the rush
Lost in the flow
In over my head I wanna go
The river's deep
The river's wide
The river's water is alive
So sink or swim
I'm diving in
I'm diving in

There is a supernatural power in this mighty river's flow
It can bring the dead to life, and it can fill an empty soul
And give a heart the only thing worth livin' and worth dyin' for, yeah
But we will never know the awesome power of the grace of God
Until we let ourselves get swept away into this holy flood
So if you'll take my hand, we'll close our eyes and count to three
And take the leap of faith
Come on let's go


("Dive" by Steven Curtis Chapman)


I'ma going in. See you in that crazy water. 


How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?  ~ Satchel Paige