When in doubt, mustache.

One of my blogger friends emailed me last night, checking on my knee.

Truth be told, I’m in a bit of a painful and deflated state. I’m having pretty severe knee pain, which started with hip pain, and apparently jumped to the knee.

I blame the Taper Worm.

The little Taper Worm booger jumped into my body, when my poor body is trying to recover after months of hard training, and wiggles all over the place and hurts parts of the body that didn’t bother me before. Stupid Taper Worm.

Anyway, my blogger friend said, “How’s the knee? Really worried that you’re going to have to drop out of Augusta.”

Earlier that day, the Expert had said, “I would hate for you to have to walk off the course, with your knee and all.”

I wanted to poke my eyes out and plug my ears and sing, “lalallalallalalalaala” at the top of my lungs.  Because the truth of the matter is that I have never (not once) even considered DNS or DNFing (not starting or not finishing) Augusta.  It’s not in my brain vocabulary.  I refuse to think about that. I’m going to race and I’m going to finish.

As I told my blogger friend, “I’m not dropping out of Augusta… I’ll drag my useless leg behind me before that happens. It’s not great but I’m using my mind to control [my leg].  I’m not taking crap from it.”

I can’t think about DNS or DNF.

Game Face.

Before Miami 70.3, I had not run in weeks due to a hamstring issue. I had a terrible cold.  I felt awful. The weather was awful, but I used my mind to drag me through that race course, and I never thought about quitting. Even when I had finished Mile 1, and thought… 12.1 to go?  Holy crap &#^@.  Still. Never. Thought about quitting.

Yes, there are some not-so fantastic truths going on right now in my life:

Truth:  My knee hurts.
Truth:  My hip hurts.
Truth:  The Taper Worm is evil.
Truth:  I’m fatter than I would like to be.

There also happen to be other truths:
Truth:  I have worked my tail off in training since recovering from the broken foot..and the sprained foot.
Truth:  I am stronger than I was before my last 70.3.
Truth:  My mind is focused.
Truth:  I’m adequately salted and electrolyted.

Now, looking at these two lists, I realized a few things.  All the things on List #1 are negative.  All the things on List #2 are positive. So, going forward… I will now only review and think about the things on List #2.

This also goes back to the things I can control… and the things I can’t.

Six days out of a race of this caliber, I can literally only control what I think.  My thoughts and my attitude.  That’s it. The race preparation and training is done.  The logistics (check-in, hotel, etc.) will fall in line. The race course, the heat, the weather, the marine life and my body… are… all out of my control.  [Now, I shouldn’t go to a Rave and drink Coronas for hydration, so I guess, my thoughts and what I shove into my gullet are the things I control.]

Last year, a few weeks before Miami, I was freaking out. I talked to Coach Monster, and he said some very important things to me –things that have not left my gray matter.

Focus on the big goal.

 I had “blown” several long workouts a month before the race.  I called him crying. And this is what he said to me.

“You are not dying.  This is not a big deal – it’s not cancer, it’s not homelessness, it’s not job loss.  It’s triathlon, for God’s sake. Enjoy your journey. Stop trying to be what you’re not.  Listen to your body.  Be who you are, right in this second.  Be that person.  Be grateful.  And give yourself a break.”

Perspective. Gratefulness. Faith.

To all my Augusta friends, three more words:  We. Got. This.