Ironman Los Cabos Epilogue: Lessons Learned

After having some time to really reflect on Ironman Los Cabos, and how the experience shaped out, I wanted to lay out some of the things I learned along the way which I found important, and can be applied to any passion project a person may seek to accomplish. In a nutshell, completing this race was absolutely glorious. The finish chute was a blur of afternoon sunlight and mental fog, but it was absolutely glorious. Will I do it again? Absolutely. What did I learn? Read below to find out.

1. We human beings really are capable of more than we give ourselves credit for - Yes, I know it's cliche, and we can read this any number of times a day on inspirational Facebook posts, but it's also very true. We tend to give up too quickly or too easily. By our very nature, we are conditioned to conserve. Conserve our pride, conserve our welfare, conserve our energy. In other words we are conditioned to be "safe". After all, as we evolved we had to develop mechanisms to keep ourselves from harm - to run away from Sabertooth Tigers, or survive through cold winters or famine. I'm certainly not endorsing those, but there are ways that we can channel those additional stores of energy in non-stressful ways (I want to stress "non-stressful") to go the extra mile in any endeavor with which we are involved.
2. Understanding and acknowledging our limitations is a beneficial exercise - Is number 2 contradicting number 1? Yes!... In a way. But you see how I mentioned channeling energy in non-stressful ways (I guess I want to re-stress my stressing of "non-stressful"). That is where understanding our limitations can benefit us. We all know how we feel when we hit a brick wall. Our energy immediately depletes, we lose sleep, we get sick, we get irritable, we crave sugar (ok, that one is tough to gauge). When I felt any of these symptoms during my Ironman training, I knew that it was my body telling me that I was pushing too hard. When that happened I had to take a step back and make rest my priority, refresh my mind and body, and recover the passion and energy I had for pursuing this goal. Often times the best offense is a good defense. Additionally, knowing our limitations gives us a good indication on where we can improve, and whether it makes sense to refocus our energy in more positive ways.
3. "No pain, no gain" is some of the worst advice ever given - In fact, pain is most often an impediment to progress. Alternatively, some of the greatest gains happen with little or no physical pain, and very little discomfort at all! When I first began training using heart rate as a guide, I didn't even feel like I was working out at all. I barely broke a sweat, pulling 11-12 minute miles on runs. Gradually the pace improved and the effort felt much the same. It's only with the greater gains that more discomfort becomes required, the "last 10%" so to speak, and even that should be done sparingly. It all comes back to understanding limitations. Pain is different from discomfort. Our ability to suffer through discomfort is part of a growing experience. Pain, on the other hand, is biofeedback telling us that we are overdoing it and have to take a step back. This advice would be better read as "No pain, KNOW gain!"
4. We can make the experience of achieving a goal much more fulfilling by finding a way to be in service to others - When I first considered training for an Ironman, I thought of all the hours I would have to put in, the money I would have to spend, and the emotional capital I would expend and it made it seem like a very selfish endeavor. To be fair, it was. I was looking to better myself. But how can we benefit others unless we focus first on improving ourselves (something about removing the plank from one's own eye comes to mind)? In my case, I chose to set an example for those that may have always thought of achieving a far reaching goal, but who may have talked themselves out of it numerous times (after all, I was like that). I wrote about it openly in the hopes of inspiring others through my experience. This requires conquering the fear of being vulnerable (spoiler alert: that's number 5 below). Additionally, I raised money for charity to hold myself accountable to the goal. After all, it is much more difficult to quit when times get tough if you have more eyes on your progress and a charity goal depending on your achieving the goal.
5. The experience can become more meaningful if we can conquer the fear of being vulnerable - I used to be a bit of a cynic, often becoming critical and nay-saying in many situations. I now understand that that was a defense mechanism for me so that I would not be the subject of criticism. If I can be critical of other peoples' desires to fulfill a dream, I could justify my own lack of inspired confidence. Too often we put up this armor of cynicism, and neglect the great potential for self improvement that comes from being vulnerable. Brene Brown is an expert on vulnerability, and goes into great detail of it's importance in this TED talk and in her book, Daring Greatly. Making myself vulnerable by writing about my experience, especially at the beginning when I had no experience whatsoever, made me extremely uncomfortable. However, it made the experience of getting to my goal and achieving it that much more meaningful.
6. You CAN find the time - Yes, you can. No seriously, you can. I know you have kids, I know you have a job, I know you have that thing on Thursday nights (I'm not stalking you, I swear). Regardless, the time is there. It's just about inventive time management. I know waking up earlier is hard, but that is a solution. You can also take your lunch breaks at work to focus on the goal. The point is that there is always a way to make the time. Within my training plan, I had to find 20+ hours a weak during the peak weeks to train. I would wake up earlier, use my lunch breaks, and use the actual commute to work to work in training hours. I still found time with the family and took care of all my obligations (in fact my family appreciated it more because I was setting a good example). 
7. The right perspective changes everything - I know what it's like to fall into a downward spiral of despair and self loathing. The feeling that everyone is against you and the hard work is meaningless. These are the great demoralizers. The worst thing about these feelings is that they are overpowering, and they feel absolutely legitimate. However, I have found in my life that these are mostly problems with perspective. I've learned through this experience that, for me, one of the big differences between being happy and being miserable is my perspective. When I turned my negative attitude around and focused on the positive, things became much brighter. Ironman training was a great practice in perspective. Instead of saying things like "I have to run today", I would say "I get to run today". How lucky am I, that I am capable of getting myself up every day and working toward a dream? Truly we are fortunate if we allow ourselves to believe we are, and overcome the power of negative thinking.
8. Humility is vital - There will be setbacks. There always are. Many times these setbacks may seem like a death nail into achievement of a goal. But when these setbacks occur, it is important to practice humility. Allowing our egos to get in the way of clear thinking will only make the situation worse. For example, as I was training during the summer months last year, I hit a plateau which wouldn't allow me to get any faster at my assigned aerobic heart rate range. This gave me two options. Run faster and train over my heart rate range (which would have potentially destroyed my training progress to that point), or humble myself and keep it slow. Sure, I wouldn't be able to run as fast as I wanted at that point, but checking my ego would allow me to be faster at that heart rate over the long term. A setback, yes. But the long term goal was still on track. Eventually I broke through the plateau and got faster. Humility ties a lot of these things I learned together in a nice little bow. Accepting limitations, practicing vulnerability, finding the right perspective, it's all about humility.
9. It's worth it - Whatever "it" is, as long as the effect is positive, it's worth it. Because "it" is important to you, "it" will build your character, "it" will give you fulfillment beyond your expectations, and in turn the act of achieving "it" will inspire others. And when we inspire others, we can inspire ourselves, constantly improving, always reaching toward higher and more lofty goals. An upward spiral. Take it from me, you can.

Running Scared

A year ago, when I waved the forefinger of my one good arm in the air and proclaimed confidently to the heavens that "I would complete an Ironman", a year was a long way off. So far off in fact, that I needn't let March 30, 2014 worry me at all. It was a lifetime away, and certainly enough time to be adequately prepared to survive a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26 mile run. My daughter would be in Kindergarten by then, my son with a healthy vocabulary. Here we are a month away, with my daughter in Kindergarten, my son already talking back to Mom & Dad. About a month away from the race, and I'll admit that I'm terrified. It turns out that regardless of how well prepared I may be, I'm are still venturing into unknown territory. And most fear is rooted in the unknown.

Within the last year, I have fully healed from an injured shoulder, cleaned up unhealthy habits and unhealthy thinking. I have surpassed my goals with training and racing, and believe I am well capable of completing the Ironman in 17 hours. In fact, I have been close to the front of the pack in most of the races I have run. While I'm not the tip of the spear, so to speak, I am closer to being the string that ties the pointy end of the spear to the stick that carries it. I could not be more prepared than I am right now. But the feeling of fear still grinds at the pit of my stomach.

So what exactly am I afraid of? Well, to make it easy, here's a fun little top ten list of things which may make a triathlete fearful before their first Ironman, some far fetched, others... fetched?

• As odd as it sounds, there's the fear of being afraid. There is a lot of standing around and waiting before the gun goes off. That leaves a lot of time to be in my own head, which never ends well. For example, getting to the start line and succumbing to my fear in the form of a storm of gravity pulling all my blood from my head, at which point I collapse in an embarrassing heap, ending my race before it begins. Here comes the stretcher, making its way through the throngs of swimmers, now delayed in their start because some poor schmuck couldn't harden up. All eyes on me, as I'm carried off the beach in the opposite direction of where the race is to begin. 
• The fear of getting sick right before the race. Thus far this year I've been lucky, but I don't want to tempt fate as chances are if I do get sick, it will happen just as I'm getting ready to race.
• The fear of being halfway through the swim and then having to go to the bathroom. I mean, "grab a newspaper and some matches" go to the bathroom. Although, this may help me swim faster, or clear away any congestion from other swimmers.
• The fear of other people around me having similar "bathroom issues".
• The fear of panicking mid-swim. It's a long way out, and it will take a lot of effort just getting through the beach start, or as I call it the "Braveheart Start".

• The fear of being skewered Crocodile Hunter style by a giant stingray. Heck, defiled by any sea creature, big or small, would be unpleasant 
• The fear of getting one mile into the bike and realizing "crap, this is really hard." Well, duh.
• The fear of blowing out multiple tires, dropping a chain, breaking a pedal, hitting an armadillo and exploding... any number of mechanical problems which would not be able to be fixed. 
• The fear of having a diva-esque meltdown at around mile 20 of the run. At this point it is possible that some racers are so worn out that they may lie down prostrate in the middle of the road sobbing uncontrollably, chastising poor volunteers for running out of Snickers bars. 
• Of course, the dreaded "DNF". Could be for any number of reasons, catastrophic to simple. But the result is the same: Failure to accomplish a much sought after goal.

I will say that I do have some of these fears to varying extents, and even some others not listed, rational and irrational. But look at all of these fears. What do they have in common? They are all things that are out of my control. Funny how fear grips at us when we don't have the ability to pull the strings. It is an interesting sport, triathlon, which people subject themselves to, where there are so many variables which can affect a result which is out of the athlete's control. It requires a lot of humility, of which I have done my best to try to learn and practice over the past couple years.

When I look at it that way, and when I diminish my fears by writing them down, seeing how silly they actually are, and recognizing that they are out of my control, it makes it easier to face them head on. That's not to say that I won't still be completely terrified a month from now, standing with 1499 other people covered in neoprene, waiting for a horn to sound which will begin an intense day of suffering, head games, loss of bodily functions, and diva-esque behavior. But it does mean that I can do my best to be prepared, stop worrying about what I can't control, and take the race as I now try to take my life; moment by moment, challenge by challenge... and hope to God that I just finish on my feet, with a smile on my face.

345

In case you're wondering, that is my first official bib number for a triathlon. When I read the email from the officials at the Carlsbad Triathlon, I looked for any radical significance to the number aside from the obvious sequential nature, but of course I could find none. The only result I could find was that it happens to be the area code to the Cayman Islands, so I imagine that number is used pretty heavily during crackdowns by the Securities and Exchange Commission. There is also a Biblical reference, Lamentations 3:45 - "You have made us scum and refuse among the nations". Nice.

I guess the best significance I can draw from the number 345 is that it happens to represent the place in order where my name alphabetically falls on the participant list for the Carlsbad Triathlon. I think that's a pretty worthwhile significance. Why? Because I earned my spot at this premier race. Yes, technically anyone can register for a fee, but I worked hard, and this race represents a celebration for the work I put in to improving myself. I look forward to wearing 345, and I will own it.

Preparation for this race couldn't be going any better in my opinion. Despite the obvious speed bumps (in the form of bike and knee crushing automobiles), my swim is getting pretty strong, my bike is pretty fast, and my run feels good. The doctor has given me an all clear, officially diagnosing the injury as a sprained MCL, which should heal fully in 8 weeks.

I look at this next Sunday, July 14th, as another milestone to cross before going to Cabo to compete in an Ironman. Over a year and a half ago I was unhealthy, depressed, and dependent on alcohol to ease my pain and boredom with life. Since then I have crossed many milestones - becoming sober, improving my perspective, finding my spiritual path, repairing and healing from injuries, learning to eat clean and healthy, improving my physical condition, becoming competent at the bike and the swim, the list goes on - and along that path I have conquered many fears. It is amazing how much fear prevents us from doing things from which we can thrive. But I have committed to charge through them and have found grace in the process. My one true hope is that others begin to believe they can too.

This weekend I approach the milestone of competing in my first sprint distance triathlon. While that may not be much, it is a step in the direction of greater things.

Terrors of the Deep

When I was in high school, our marine ecology class took a field trip halfway down the Baja peninsula on the Sea of Cortez to an isolated bay called Bahia de las Animas. During the trip, a number of the students from the swim team, showing much more backbone than I, dared to swim around the two small islets located about a half mile from our shore camp. Surely, I thought, the population of hungry beasts would be dense between the shore and the two islands, waiting for some dumb gringo to flail aimlessly into their element. Whether it be a stingray hitting them on their first step into the sea, a school of hammerheads, or perhaps they would meet their demise from the wayward fluke of a fin whale. Regardless, the outcome was the same, and it wasn't pretty. So I didn't want any part of it.

"You only see what you know."

Wise words from a wise biology teacher, Marv Sherrill. Of course, what I knew at that time was what I learned from TV and movies, such as Jaws; that blood thirsty man eaters were hunting humans and attacking at every opportunity. So naturally that's what I saw as reality. That's also part of my self centered nature, that somehow all sea creatures would be interested in ME, when in reality they can probably take me or leave me, as long as I don't harsh their mellow. What I learned from our Baja trip is that a little knowledge about our environment goes a long way in shaping our reality.

I have still hung onto some of those fears of swimming in the open water since that time. However, it is less about the creatures, and more about the nature of the ocean and my own self confidence that straddles the line between respect and fear. Most of that fear stems from the fact that I've never actually swam in the open water. Sure, I've surfed since I was very young, I've braved shore break for hours on end, and I even scuba dive on occasion with no problem. But there at least I have the safety of a surfboard, the shore, or a buoyancy control device close by should something go wrong. But a half mile off shore with nothing but my swim trunks? That's where the fear of panic sets in. "What if I can't swim back? What if I get too tired? What if I'm in over my head?" 

Being that I would have to get over these concerns in very short order, I decided to meet up with a group of open water swimmers this past weekend at Corona Del Mar beach for an open water swim around a number of buoys. I was quite intimidated at first. The fears listed above came to mind, not so much that I would drown, but that I would make a fool out of myself eventually having to be dragged back to shore defeated and humiliated. But these fears are rooted in unknowns. While we only see what we know, we also tend to fear what we don't know. One of the main purposes of this experience is to overcome my fears and experience more out of life, lest I miss out on something that could have been.

Contrary to my fears, the group was very welcoming, and I was able to keep up with them, logging about a mile and a half. The wetsuit I wore easily kept me buoyant, and nary a man eater in sight. This was huge in building my self confidence, and I feel like one of my last hurdles has been crossed. I also feel that many fears are exaggerated, and they can be overcome by taking the next logical step to building respect and understanding for what is feared. In this case it was getting in the water with others who had the experience.

I find it fitting that I am conquering my fear of open water swimming while preparing for a 2.4 mile swim in the Sea of Cortez, the same sea I once looked upon with trepidation back in high school. Now I look upon it with respect, eagerness, and excitement.