Bring it ON

Well, I'm back. From vacation, that is. I discovered something very interesting last week. Here I was, enjoying a bonus vacation week granted to employees at our office for the holiday. We are very lucky in that regard -- our office leadership truly believes in the balance of work and home lives, and supports everyone in keeping a healthy respect for each.

Vacation it is. Use it, or lose it.

So, I was off for the whole week. The beginning was really fun -- sleeping in, working on personal things, killing Christmas by packing up all the decorations, getting through financial tasks that were languishing on the ToDo list. All good.

Then Wednesday hit. And I got antsy. Really antsy. I don't think vacations and I get along. I seem to only operate well when there isn't enough time, when I'm being pulled in many directions and I have a daily schedule to follow because I *need* one. When I have all the time in the world, I simply waste it.

Ah, well. Know your limitations, I guess. :)

So, I'm just tickled to be back at work. I love my job, so that makes it much better, of course. And, since we are mere months away from IMmoo...it's time to start smackin' out a little training!

You can check out what's on the docket for this week on my TrainingPeaks public site. That will be my go-to site for tracking all of my training, and where I will ultimately have my formal plan posted.

This week consists of four runs (including one run off), two bikes, two strength, and two swims. I'm heavier on the run frequencies because I feel like that running may warrant some special attention, due to my persnickety ITB. If all goes well, I'd like to sign up for the Chilly Cheeks trail run on the 21st. They throw such a great race, but we'll see.

(By the way, although I could never count it as real training, I wasn't completely idle last week. I was very pleased to find that I retained more muscle strength than I originally anticipated. My strength sessions didn't leave me bent over with soreness and I was actually doing more reps than last year (since this is AA an all). That was definitely a pleasant surprise.)

You know, I'm actually very excited for a lot of things this week -- solid training, back at work full time, and a full schedule. Yeah, there will be a point where I link back to this post and rue the day I wasted extra time and looked forward to a full schedule. And, yup, that day maybe tomorrow.

But for now, bring it on Life.

Bring. It. On.

Happy New Year!

I hope EVERYONE had an exceptional new year's celebration that was everything they expected. Mighty M and I enjoyed a wonderful night together of delish food (shrimp cocktail, filet and strip steaks, fresh veggies, and raspberry ganash cake...mmm) and new movies. And thanks -- we gave lots of thanks for this past year. I gave thanks for the dating gods for finally pulling me out of purgatory and introducing me to M, for the advent of exercise and health in my life, and two happy and healthy families to enjoy. Very, very good things.

And I DID do the GYGO triathlon...well, at least I gave it my best shot. Even calling ahead of time to check the Y's hours for New Year's day didn't work. I got there excited (and, to be honest, a little nervous) for the first swim of the season and the whole place was dark. D.A.R.K. And a little creepy. Not a soul around, except the teen in the pool area cleaning the pool. Well, I guess that means that today's swim will be extra enjoyable!

Never fear, I did come back to and knock out 15.8 miles on the bike. It felt great, of course! I missed my 'Naner, but don't really miss the sore butt that comes with the beginning of a season. Ouch! M was a trooper and -- with a bit of a workout agenda of his own -- he ran the mill of dread at the same time to keep me company. Now, if he could only keep all the sweat from his bald head ON his bald head...then we would be in business!! ;)

Then my mushy legs and I headed out for a run in the 'hood in the pouring rain. I would normally say yuck, but it was great. I missed running! My knee started yelling at me early on (mile 1.5 or so), and so I mixed in some walking, too. I will have to be very, very careful with (1) my running mileage, and (2) my bike to run bricks this winter. I also want to bring my bike into Andy to get the float checked on my pedals and do a full fit. I suspect that I have too much float in the pedals and that's aggrevating my knee. Andy will know.

Okay, well, I'm on a little VACATION this week (love.my.job) and will have lots of things to post and lots of updates on training. Take care, everybody, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Early Morning Weight

I'm fascinated by The Weight Room.

Fascinated and fearful, in a way.

I go and spend time there, but I never really feel at home. I show up in the wee early hours, when I would assume that other people serious about their health and training show up, and I feel like less of an 'insider' than I would at a convention for evangelical political pundits in a presidential election year. Fearful that the moment I open my mouth or make one concerted move, I will instantaneously be discovered as an outsider and the floor will magically open up, swallow me whole, and drop me along side the New Jersey turnpike, dazed, confused, and feeling a little slimy.


I had a session with a trainer way back when I started this whole triathlon training trip and it was definitely a smart move. Realizing that I had zero idea of what machines to use and how often or, well, how...I buckled down and dropped the c-note for an hour with someone who did. She's also a triathlete, and a serious one at that. I told her my plans and she put me to work. I learned a solid circuit of exercises both on the nautilus machines (in the safe room...you know, the one with the treadmills and other familiar machines) and in The Weight Room.

I kind of felt like a fool -- an interloper or sorts. Clearly I was getting a lesson on the basics, so I was basically a beginner. I swallowed my pride and went with it and the process payed off. Over the following months I slowly became more comfortable using the free weights freely. I got used to switching out using a machine during recovery. I even figured out where to look in a room full of mirrors and buff guys without completely embarrassing myself. (Com. On. A room full of mirrors and we're NOT supposed to look? Good grief!) I began to recognize the regulars as I became a regular myself.

And, luckily, the floor never opened up and swallowed me whole. I managed to avoid the Jersey roadside and was all that much stronger for the process. Yeah. The definition in my arms alone was worth it. And, recently, we all know that I've been religiously adhering to the cheese steak diet, so I'm ever so slightly less buff than before. And when I say "ever so slightly," I really mean "shockingly." No worries, the New Year is here.



And, now that the New Year IS here, I've been working on my training plan. Finances have dictated that I need to wait until later in January to purchase my TrainingPeaks plan of choice, so I'm pulling together my own prep month plan based on an amalgamation of the bazillion books and mags I've been reading recently.

But, the weight lifting portion of the plan has forced some self-education. Last year -- when I participated and didn't compete -- the basic circuit was just fine. Any strength gain was a bonus. I was going up from the bottom, you know. But this year is different. I want my time down in the bowels of the Y -- in the dreaded Weight Room -- to be really beneficial. Well spent. So, in this process, I found a great site that y'all may be interested in visiting: ExRx.com. I've been hanging out on the Exercise and Muscle Directory section to familiarize myself with any number of variations of hip abductor exercises and what the heck the difference is between an adductor and abductor.

I found it really informative and helpful. Maybe you will, too!

And, I'm pleased to say that I've landed on a set of exercises that I think will really payoff. Yes, make me sore in an unholy and evil way. Yes, I will walk for the first week ever so slightly bent over and grunting along the way. But, bring on the high protein/low fat diet and let's tear some muscle tissue. Booyah!

I'm It

I've been tagged! This is my first tagging, so I'm kind of tickled by the whole idea. Thanks JohnnyTri! Here's my entry into the Blog Book Tag...

What to do...

1. Find the nearest book.
2. Name the book & the author.
3. Turn to page 123.
4. Go to the fifth sentence on the page. Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog.
5. Tag three more folks.

Being that I work in a counseling center for families and individuals, you would imagine the there are a BUNCH o' psychological books around. But, I stuck to the task and grabbed the one physically the closest to me -- Self Analysis, by Karen Horney, MD. It was published in 1942, which is particularly interesting when you consider the history of analysis, psychoanalysis, and its rise and decline in popularity in professional circles. The first readers of this edition would have likely been contemporaries of Freud (albeit geographically distant) and lived in a world unfettered and unaided by psychiatric medications. The book must have been donated to our center, since it's inscribed to "Elizabeth Anthony, from D.G., Christmas 1944." How very interesting...

p. 123, from "The Analyst's Share in the Psychoanalytic Process"

Like everyone else, the analyst will observe general qualities in the patient's behavior, such as aloofness, warmth, rigidity, spontaneity, defiance, compliance, suspicion, confidence, assertiveness, timidity, ruthlessness, sensitivity. In the mere process of listening to the patient he will, without direct effort, gain many general impressions: whether the patient is able to let himself go or is tense and constrained; whether he talks in a systematic, controlled fashion or is jumpy and scattered; whether he presents abstract generalities or concrete details; whether he is circumstantial or to the point; whether he talks spontaneously or leaves the initiative to the analyst; whether he is conventional or expresses what he really thinks and feels.

In his more specific observations the analyst learns, first, from what the patient tells him about his experiences, past and present, his relationships with himself and others, his plans, his wishes, his fears, his thoughts.

Not bad for a random few sentences out of a random book.

LBTEPA, Spokane Al, and Donald -- consider yourselves TAGGED!

(oh, this is fun!)

I could not have said it better myself

Sunshine, you hit the proverbial nail right on the head. May we all find this in the coming year!

Oh, and don't forget...

...to register for the GYGO Virtual Tri-Geek Challenge! A fabulous way to start the new year doing exactly what most of us will be up to all year long (swim, bike, run, rinse, repeat comes to mind...).

I, myself, have already checked that the Y is open. So, I'll be joining all of the New Years resoluters (It's a word!)* with some splashing around in the water, drying off on the bike, and shvitzing my way through three miles on the dreaded mill.

But symbolism goes a long way, people, and I'm DOWN with the symbolism of this event.

So. Go. Register. Pick whatever distance you want and have FUN with it!!

Kick the year off on the right foot. Or fin. Or whatever.

* okay, not really

it's the FI-NAL COUNT-DOWN

da da daaa daaaah
da da dadada
dada da daaa
dada da da da ...

Okay, enough annoying 80s songs to get stuck in your head on an early Monday morning.

Going on a little hiatus from the blog-o-li-cious scene for the holidays. The next week is ridiculously full, which I should count my lucky stars for, but it seems a little overwhelming right now. So much time needs to be spent gathering glorious gifts and wrapping them for all my loved ones. Visiters are coming into town (yeah Lil'Sis!!!!!) and Mighty M and I will be traveling around the area making sure everyone we love knows it. I'm looking forward to the hours my sister, Dad, and I will spend around the tree and by the fire. Plus, this year is all that much fuller with M's family who is, thankfully, also local. (Whew.) We get to share gifts with a 2 year old niece who never stops chatting and I always want to stow away in the car with us when we leave, and her baby sister who is just a nugget of cuteness. And hopefully in between we can steal some time to ourselves for our first Christmas together.

So, I'm going on a little blog vacation, but will be back soon. And you guys should, too. Spend time away from the computer if you can -- and away from training for that matter -- and gather those you care about around you. Be well, travel safely, and take advantage of the time together.

Morning musing

Less then three weeks until Ironman training begins, and a thought occured to me last night that, while not original or even all that insightful, calmed some of my worries of lost ability.

Achievements that take many days, weeks, months, or years are not undone in less time. The achievement itself may seem tenuous and vulnerable, but when it was hard won and based on honest effort, those impressions of vulnerability are your own perception, not the reality.

Just thought I wanted to share that with you this morning.

In other news, I have solved the website issue (try...the hosting company forgot to actually purchase the domain!) and have picked my training plan for TP.com. Once the holiday crush is over I'll get that purchased and uploaded for all to see. And, yes Jeremy, I still do owe a race report on the marathon. I guess I'll have to actually make this one funny, since it's so late! Thanks for keeping me honest...

Ode to Edamame

I'm not even done eating this dinner and I have to post its crazy quick and easy recipe. Thanks to the NHL and M's penchant for naps, I'm on my own for dinner tonight. Here's what came of rather slim pickin's in the fridge. The edamame are the key -- they're so naturally flavorful and ridiculously packed with protein (not to mention the soy benefits). Don't skimp on the butter. A pat won't kill you and it really brings out the flavor.*

1 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp butter
1 cup frozen shelled edamame
1-1/2 cups fresh green beans, halved
1/4 cup water
salt, pepper

2 cups cooked brown rice

Saute the frozen edamame in butter and oil combination for 5 minutes on medium heat. (Beware of adding any frozen food to hot oil -- the sputtering can really hurt! Start everything together in the pan if you love the skin on your arms!)

Add the green beans and toss to coat. Season with salt to taste. Add the water and cover, simmering on medium heat for 8-10 minutes or until green beans are crisp-tender. Remove lid and cook for 3 more minutes to cook off any remaining water. Season with ground pepper and salt. Serve over brown rice.

Serves: 2 regular people or 1 hungry triathlete

Yup, that simple. But it's really wonderful on taste. Really.

I'd show a picture, but now it's all gone.

Yum.

* Why butter AND oil? The oil allows the dish to cook at a higher heat, but protects the butter from, literally, burning. So you get the great butter taste and the ability to cook the beans at a relatively high temperature for a short period of time. This works really well with steaks, but you already know my issues with beef.

J'hello Fitness

Last night Mighty M and I had sinful food for dinner. Sinful, delicious, horribly fattening food for dinner.

And it was joyous.

Cheese steaks with fried onions and mushrooms. Mmmm.

So all is good and then, later on before we went to sleep, M asks me the following evil question:

"So, how many more days until you can't have any more cheese steaks?"

Oof.

Evil, evil man.

But, of course, he's right! * Yeah, um, that would be something like 23 days 6 hours and 18 minutes. And a handful of seconds. In training I wouldn't dream of an evening of random gluttony with zero nutritional value on a Thursday night. No -- I would be patient and wait for great celebration or meaningful milestone to take on the fat, salt, and calories with a smile on my face. Nope, random gluttony won't be in the cards. (And, seriously, Thursday is a long run day so I wouldn't even have TIME for the darned thing!)

My Ironman training begins at the very moment millions of others across this world (give or take a time zone or two) are making bold promises of changed lifestyles. At the crack of midnight, I'll be shifting gears to early morning departures for the gym, bleary eyed plunges into the never-quite-warm-enough waters of the Y pool in the dark hours, and Saturdays spent slamming a brick rather than snuggling a boyfriend.

I'm definitely looking forward to it all, but for a nice period of time I've grown accustomed to rolling out of bed at 8:00 each morning and spending laundry time on my delicates rather than my dirty gear.

There is one thing that I certainly miss -- my fit body. I've never been "Iron Fit," even when working out regularly. (Although, I am very curious to see the changes Iron training will have on my bottom line, so to speak!) Somehow my genetics seem to be my limiter in the hot bod category of triathlons, but I certainly hold my own, albeit in a curvy way. Less Rosie and more Selma Hayek. Kind of.

Anyway, the lack of purposeful activity and the influx of sinful, sinful dinners has left me not so Iron Fit. Perhaps more like Tin Fit. Or Jello Fit.

Yes.

Jello Fit.

Now, I'm not going to give up those 23 days and whatever minutes. I'm enjoying having no fitness master for now. But he's looming -- right at the edge of my view. Waiting for the clock to strike, the ball to slide down, and for me to join the rest of the world in shifting gears. Literally.

So, bring it on on the first. But in the mean time, can you please pass the popcorn? Thanks, you're the best.

* Yes, sweetheart, right just like the shoes at the mall. Just. Like. The shoes.

Training Plans and Online Help

Not the most creative title, I know.

Give me a break -- busy week, but wanted to get this out there.

So.

Ironayla recently posted about a topic that has been on my mind quite a bit recently and is actually tri-related. (GASP -- could it be!?! Is she actually blogging about tri-related stuff and not her Christmas tree??) How do you find a training plan that is detailed enough for your needs, but doesn't put you in the poor house or provide info you could get in other (namely, already purchased) sources, like books?

(That's a very convoluted question. Mr. Piligalli from elementary composition would not be pleased with that one.)

I pulled the trigger and signed up for the TrainingPeaks.com package that allows me to plan, track, and compile my training information in what seems to be a relatively easy format. If I can use it, any monkey locked in a room with a computer and a swizzle stick can, too. It has a number of added benefits (visually interesting and useful graphs and reports, fast loading pages, nutrition logs, and interfaces with Garmin/Polar/etc). Plus, I'm on the computer all the time -- morning, noon, and night -- so, that fits in well with my habits.

And, let's be serious, the closer I can get my training 'tools' to match my well ingrained habits (bad or otherwise), the less likely I'll sabotage myself from the get go.

Anyhoo.

Here's the big question now -- training plans. I've read Big Papa Joe Friel's books. And Wes Hobson, and what feels like a gadzillion other books. So I have a least a beginning base of understanding the process of periodization and how and when to peak. But where my understanding falls short is the minutia.

What drills do I do in the pool on the second swim of a Build Week 3. How do I get the most power out of my legs for a hilly IM, while having little understanding of wattage. Hours of training recommended for the second week of Base. In short -- how do I actually execute my training on a daily basis.

For those who actually know what they're doing (or, like Jeremy, have a personal Ironman Rockstar on speeddial) -- then read no further. TP.com has a massive library of sessions to choose from. If you know what you need to do, then just take a couple hours and plug it all in, and then it's gravy.

The rest of us? Read on...

So, my thought was to purchase a plan -- compatible with TP.com -- and then tweak it to match my planned A/B races. In fact, there used to be the perfect plan on the site (iron distance for beginners, specific for hilly races), but it was recently plucked away and replaced with other plans that are possibly too advanced for me and are 50% more expensive.

Btw, NOT a wise decision from the team up there at TP.com! When I could have had it for $80 last week and you now want $150?? Come. On. I know the value of the plan didn't magically spike...so what motivates me to shell out almost double for practically the same thing? (To be fair, the pricier option -- now the only option close to my ability and specific to my race -- is for intermediate level racers, not beginners.) But seriously. Remember that scene in Pretty Woman? Bad move, TP. Really bad move. Cause let me tell ya -- it's Christmas and I'm in the buying mood.

Again...anyhow...

What do you use? Do you like it? Any ideas where a penny pinching triathlete can get a useful starting point to craft a IM season?

...and After...

O' Tannenbaum

As the moments tick away from my last night of vacation, I feel warm and content inside as this little darling sits in our living room. She's slowly unfurling her boughs and will be dressed for the yule tide ball tomorrow night.

I'm happy to say that my vacation week was filled with absolutely nothing notable. And while nothing exceptional was accomplished (aside from finding a wonderful tree), I actually do feel like my tanks are topped off and I'm ready to take on what comes tomorrow. And Tuesday. And beyond.

So, I'm heading off to my oasis for some Sunday night fizzy water, my new Runner's World, and the knowledge that I can actually do nothing for a week and do it well.

Sleep well, all my bloggy buds. I'm out...

Feeling lonely?

...don't.

I'm coming back soon. I know it's sad to be apart. Perhaps it will make the heart grow fonder.

But find warmth in the fact that I am doing many very interesting things here...very, very, interesting things. Namely with the charity website. And a little vacation mixed in. And some planning for 2007.

All very fun.

All of which will be reported.

In due time.

But, I have an afternoon at the office with much to do, and then more blogLove (which, I've heard is significantly better than FlavaFlavLove) later this week.

Just know you are missed. But not in a creepy way.

For which to be thankful...

A warm home with a warm partner – my soft place to land.

My ever understanding and supportive family,
each member of whom adds something special
to my days in their own, unique way.

Waking up clear headed and with a clear conscience every single day.

M, who has made all the difference in
the world to my happiness and my life.

Doing my best at my work and choosing the best work to do.

Friends who know things without asking
and are there for me without question.

Finding personal balance in the journey towards lofty goals.

The health of my family and the time
I am allowed to spend in their company.

Physical health and personal tranquility.

The warm open arms of M’s family
and the prospect of knowing them better.

_________________

The prospect of my future, which now seems vast and limitless
– thanks to all of the above.

16 miles, but DNF

Okay, a quick update here before I craft a much longer, much funnier, and MUCH more detailed race report. I made it through 16 miles of the marathon yesterday before my left knee buckled under me and took me out of the race. I've had problems with my IT band since high school sports, so generally I do my special stretches (done) and carefully monitor my gait (done), but sometimes I'm missing some elusive part of the combination.

So, around mile 16 the mild aggravation had turned to sharp pain, so I stopped to stretch again. Took one step back onto the pavement and it wouldn't support weight. Aargh!! (And, nope, that wasn't the word going through my head!) I stretched, tried again, and pondered stopping. Then I did turn back and limped for a while, and decided to try again. (I'm not good with hearing 'no,' even if it comes from my body.) No joy. Second time was worse, so I had to call it a day. Nearly all of my relatives on my father's side have had various knee surgeries and/or replacements. My estimation yesterday was that those last 10 miles would not happen without risking finding myself in the OR. And I have no time for the OR in 2007. No time.

But, I have much to add to that story -- celebrity sightings, crowd favs, and porta-pottie musings -- so check back later.

For now, my achy 33 year old body is on the hunt for massive amounts of Advil, a bag of ice, and a pillow for elevation.

Bringing Sexy Back

Went for a lunchtime walk today and I just couldn't resist just a smidge of new gear for Sunday. I know, I know...where'd that budget go, lil' lady? Don't worry, no binge shopping. Just a fuel belt and some GU. It's all good.

But here's my question. Is it possible for women to ever look sexy when wearing one of these? I mean, really. I just bought the four squeeze bottle version (considering the distance Sunday) which also includes one roo-pouch and I bought a *second* roo-pouch for my cell phone, too.

(Let's be honest here. There's a real possibility that I'll be DNF in West Philly. Ever been to West Philly? No? Trust me...I'll want my cell phone. You want me to want my cell phone.)

That's a LOT of stuff around my waist. And while I don't believe that runners or triathletes EVER need to look hot out there while racing, is it too much to ask to not look like I'm wearing an oversized innertube?

There are, of course, benefits to the set up. If, for example, I randomly *fell* into the Schuylkill River I would clearly float.

Of course, I would float face down because of bottle placement. But at least finding my body would be very, very easy.

It is also a chance to color coordinate my FLUID with my OUTFIT, but sadly my palate is limited to also include red, black, and a flirty dash of silver.

At minimum, a full fuel belt greatly aids the negative split factor, so long as you use the facilities often. And with these four bottles, plus heaps of caffeine, and an unholy amount of pre-race hydration...I'm going to need the facilities. And often.

But honestly guys.

There is a serious dork factor going on here, don't you think? This contraption will be going around one of my "problem areas," my "zone of contention." I'm what they (kindly) call an hourglass figure (at least to my face). So adding a four-bottle-ring-of-fashion-hell with two pieces of carry-on luggage attached converts me from an abstract version of Marilyn Monroe to the shape of a...well...a rectangle.

A vertically oriented rectangle. With arms and legs.

There you go, friends. Need to find Able on Sunday in the throngs of people? Look for the red, black, and silver coordinated, vertically oriented rectangle, with a whole lotta red, black, and silver fluid options.

I'll be right by the porta-potties.

Momentum

My Mom was an amazing woman. Most moms are, I guess, from the perspective of their family and friends. But my Mom was the exception to most rules. She lived her life on her terms and taught her daughters and husband about bravery and integrity and compassion.

Mom used to run. I don’t remember how or why the activity started, but I remember Sunday afternoons not being able to locate her in the studio or the kitchen and realizing that she was watching a football game in the basement while jogging on her treadmill. And, if you knew my mother, a classical pianist with grace and poise to spare, you would see the humor in this scene.

She would run on the treadmill on bad days and outside on good days. She taught me to count telephone poles to measure miles. She never would claim to go far or fast – she was just pleased to be able to go. To move forward and do something for herself to help bolster her health. She was never a coordinated person, or even notably physically graceful. But she was tenacious in her core, quietly relentless in her commitment to all things – her career, her family, her friends. She taught my sister and me – and I would imagine, to some extent, my father – that you keep pushing and plodding, even when the effort appears to far overshadow the results.

You just keep doing.

Keep doing, because at some point you determined that the activity was valuable. So, even though right now it’s painful or inconvenient, you just keep doing. Trust yourself. Trust the effort. Trust the process.

Momentum was a tool that my mother used well.

She weathered a difficult childhood with her head bent and her eyes firmly fixed on her goals. She raised a family on the pendulous swing of momentum. She trained legions of talented pianists through the perpetual roll of lessons after lessons, year after year. She fought cancer with momentum. From surgery through recovery through remission through surgery through recovery – for 10 long years.

I guess at one point she learned that you just keep going. No matter what life throws at you.

You just keep going.

_________

I spend a lot more time nowadays relating to that momentum. Mom passed away in 1997, at the young age of 51, with her oldest making a go at life in the big city and her little baby giving her best shot at her first semester of college. There is much that cancer stole from her and me – from us. So many discussions, so many moments of learning. She never saw the adult that I am now, yet she also was spared all the pain it took to get here.

And I am often reminded of this when I run. When I jog around the neighborhood, plodding forward in my own form of momentum. In some sense, I feel connected with her. Not her as a mother or a teacher, or even a patient or someone requiring care or compassion.

But her as a woman. A young woman with hopes and dreams. A young woman who still goes out for a jog, no matter how awkward she feels in the running clothes or how ungainly her gait is in the long shadow she casts down the sidewalk. She saw her imperfect figure in the store window reflection and I’m sure she was conscious of her slower pace. But it was her time, the moments when she owned the momentum, the roll, the perceivable push from behind. Those, I’m sure, were some of the rare moments she had left over after my sister and me, my father, her students, her charities, and her friends were done taking what we needed.

I bet they were magical.

And I find similar things in those moments, where work cannot reach and all of those other obligations are obliged to wait. I feel the hand on my back, gently pushing forward – not for speed, but rather for momentum. Urging. Follow the roll. Trust the motion. Enjoy the ride.

You only get one chance.

It is in those moments, I feel connected to my mother in a way we were never allowed in life. We were never granted those glances of knowing understanding. We were never allowed to find common ground as peers, as women, as mothers, or as wives.

But occasionally, I feel as if we do connect. And I know that the hand on the small of my back, urging me forward, is hers and she is right there beside me, jogging to our slow and steady pace.

Terms of Engagement

I’ve been thinking a lot about accomplishment recently.

At one point, a few months ago, I wrote something that has returned to in my thinking recently about why we do triathlons (or at least why I do), but also what failure and success is. Because that’s the rub of life, isn’t it? That in order to have achievement -- to be set apart by one’s decisions and deeds -- it is required that we first define success. And with that, of course, comes the concept of failure. A philosophical imperative, of sorts.

Back when I started training for triathlons, a very concerned and very loving family member who asked – “well, what if you fail?” His concern was that I would lose ground in a long battle for peace and confidence. Playing by the lofty and challenging goals of triathlons may be beyond my means. And the concern was not unfounded because, of course, where there is great reward, there is also great risk of loss. Triathlons are challenging and triathletes are exceptional.

And I had to chew on that concept for a while, turn it around in my head and look at it from all angles. What if I stopped training before my first race, out of laziness or prioritizing other goals ahead of triathlon? I had been lazy in the past, and I had been fickle with my hobbies and interests, too. What if I was too scared to start my first race? What if I could – or would – not finish? I can be terribly persuasive, and unfortunately that makes it much easier to talk myself out of things, as well as into things! What if I only did one race? And, more pointedly, what if I did not live up to my potential and sold my achievements short of my natural ability? What if I made excuses for my actions or sourced what (or who) determined my success in other events, limitations, or people?

This is a battle we wage every single day. For every meaningful decision, there is a complicated matrix of why and how that I believe helps build character and integrity. But the rules of the engagement are often not readily apparent and are fraught with definitions provided by others, rather than one’s self.

And what I have come to believe is that I define the rules of engagement in this endeavor. I decide what I am seeking and how I will accomplish this. I decide how far to go and what to prioritize below and above. I determine whether I have failed or succeeded. I measure my accomplishments and do so based on what I value.

I am terribly lucky for the sport of triathlon – and the people I have met through the sport – but, I must always remember that the race is not the end, it is only part of the endeavor.

And with this approach, I can’t go wrong.

It’s not always easy to remember this rule. It is so very easy to slip back into charting mileage based on the expectations of others, picking activities and races based out of pride or fear of shame, and imposing demands on my self inconsistent with my hopes. Those are behaviors of habit – a well ingrained habit, but certainly not the hardest one I have had to break. In fact, I’ve become rather adepts at breaking habits recently!

So, I have been thinking about this all over the last week. I have considered these ideas when tracking all those bloggy friends toeing the line in Florida, and when planning my own personal time. And, of course, with the marathon coming up in the near future, I have had thoughts of why, how, and how fast.

And I am growing comfortable in my relatively new approach. I am growing comfortable making this endeavor not about the expectations of others, but about my own joy, my own challenges, and my own successes. And that feels oh so much better than before. Because it is solid. Because I am solid.

And that, I know, is because I have set the terms of engagement. I act only upon my own behest, and achieve more because of this. I know what it means to succeed for me, and I know what it means to fail. And if I do either, I do it on my own terms.

Snakeoil

If a joy were in a bottle, sparkly, slippery, and dazzeling to the eye, I would sell that snake oil to any bidder. If just a small bottle would reset the askew and uncrook the crooked, I would market it to all and give it away at the holidays. I would drink it down unabashedly and selfishly soak up all its purposful restorative. I would package and parcel and send and share. I would tell all and invite many, I would bask and repeat, I would lead by example and draw by the hand.

I would go for a morning run . . . want to join me?