The Expert is on his way back from San Diego, just in time for Mother’s Day. This morning, Yoda and I headed out to Mary Alice Park for some open water and some running.
Where were the kids? Oh my goodness… I must have left them at home…
As Yoda and I suspected, it was a mass swim start. The ducks were trying out the new Ironman rolling swim start – the ducks were first, as Yoda pointed out.
Okay, maybe not us. But the day, at least.
I have a neoprene cap with a chin strap to wear in Coeur d’Alene, where the water temps are promising to be between 50-60 degrees. I hate the darn thing. Yes, it will keep me warm, but it’s awful. I need to know really how important that cap is. Also, I am experimenting with ear plugs, and I am very happy with them. I can’t hear anything anyone says to me before swimming, but otherwise it’s pretty good.
So Yoda and I took off on a 3000m open water swim, and it was awesome. The water was so calm today. Which was much appreciated after the last two swims out at Mary Alice.
But about 500 meters into the swim, I had a mild panic attack.
Not about swimming. Well, sort of.
Last weekend when Columbus was at the house during our trainer party (the same day, I broke my ass), he told me about a swim he had over a month ago. He and a friend went out in the frigid water at Mary Alice, and headed home. A few hours later, he learned that a body… a BODY…. a no-longer-living-person… had washed up on the beach at Mary Alice… Right where they were swimming. Just a few hours later.
I am scared of two things in this world… killer whales and dead bodies. (Which actually go hand in hand, when you think about it.) But seriously. I don’t do funerals or viewings. I usually freak out and feel like I am going to pass out when I see caskets. It’s a thing, and a stupid thing. My dad always says, “Be scared of the living, not the dead.” But really, I think he’s scared that I won’t attend his funeral. (I will, Dad. I promise.) But if I attend a funeral, then you know I really (really) love you or your family.
So when Columbus told me about the BODY washing up on the shore… at the park where I regularly swim… I kind of got sick.
But then I forgot about it.
Until… 500 meters in the swim today.
When a two-foot-long log bumped up against me.
A BODY!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!
I shot straight up, and choked on some water… and then thought, Oh, a log. Whew. And I kept going. But then I found myself looking for bodies. And freaking out every so often. But I began to play mind tricks and eventually forgot about it. Thank goodness.
When we got to shore, I told Yoda about the body story. I think she was glad I didn’t tell her before we swam.
But I felt GREAT today. And I had my Kinvara shoes (which I love…love!). Yoda and I set out to run at least 1:30, and for the most part… I did.
I felt amazing. I haven’t really run since April 7. That’s over a month. Holy cow. And training for an Ironman. So timely, let me tell you.
I ran the first mile.
Then the second.
And I was so free. And happy. I had to start walking around 5, because my hip began to act up.
But otherwise, it was great. I wasn’t flying, but I felt like I was. I felt lighter, and healthier. And my shoes were flashy- and I really enjoyed running in them and getting rid of the stability trainers.
All I could think during the run was how grateful I was to be out there running.
Think you hate running? Have it taken away for a month, and see how it feels. Yes, we may dread it sometimes. It may be torture, blah blah whine whine…. but I have been dying to run. And it was great.
I was thankful to run. Just thankful.
I am hopeful about Coeur d’Alene for the first time in a week or so. This past week has been trying and depressing, and I’ve been all over the place. One moment, “I’ve got this. I can do this. I have done a ton of riding and swimming. I have, in the past year, done a ton of running. I can do this.”
Next moment, “Oh em geeeee, I suck at EVERYTHING! I am such a LOSER! Poor me!! Me and my broken ass!”
So, today, I enjoyed the beautiful sun, the excellent company, a successful 3000-ish meter swim, and a 6.7 mile run/walk… and of course, a wee bit of treat at the favorite doughnut shop ever… Dutch Monkey Doughnuts. Oh, the best!
Here’s to SIX weeks to race day. This CAN be done… it can, it can. And I will prove it. That is all. Right? Right.