I couldn’t figure out why this Ironman prep has felt so much more hectic than past ones. And then I realized it’s because the other times I basically was working a half or part-time schedule in the 4-6 weeks leading up to the race. This time, I’ve been working double. So that’s been fun.
This is more or less how this past week went.
Just getting home from my flight back from Seattle. Tomorrow’s going to be fun.
I had this plan that I was going to get up and do work, so I could make lunch-time lap swimming, before I had meetings in the city, so I could finish more work this afternoon, so I could do my trainer workout in the early evening and be done.
I did not think this plan was actually going to work out. I am mildly amazed to be the first one in the pool when lap swimming starts at 11.
Two guys wanted to circle in my lane, which I wasn’t super excited about because I knew I had 30 x 100y on a tight interval coming up. So right before I started, I gave them a heads-up that I’d be doing some hard 100s now. And they were totally gung-ho to accommodate me.
But I didn’t tell them how many and now they’re starting to be all: Are you still going?
The plan did not totally work out. Just getting off the bike. Must eat. So tired.
Ugh, I went too long without eating. Too many meetings and editing and recording. I’ve got two bad options now: don’t eat anything and bomb the hard run later, or down some bagel and cream cheese and apple juice and know the run will be ugly later. I’m taking option 2.
The run is ugly.
This running through the pain in my foot plan isn’t going great. Shit.
It’s really a crap shoot what’s going to give out first: my stomach or my foot.
I don’t feel like this run was supposed to be this hard.
Oh, I see, I’m running into the wind and uphill. That’s cool.
One more, just one more. My foot is going to hurt tomorrow. But it has to be plantar at this point, right? You can run through plantar, right? RIGHT?
Oh, thank god there are teachers emptying out the classrooms at the elementary school so they can let me into the bathroom.
Shit, my foot is bad. I should probably just lay awake freaking out about it.
Ugh, damn, bad, this is so bad. Was I stupid? Should I have not run more earlier? Should I have done something different? What? Fuck. And my sports doctor’s appointment got rescheduled and I don’t know what to do. I don’t think it’s plantar. I think it’s the muscle. I hope I didn’t tear it. I should get that MRI.
I tried to schedule the MRI that my regular doctor had supposedly called in, but the MRI office said they never got the referral. So now I’m back on the phone with the doctor’s receptionist, who is asking for my birthdate. Again.
Now they’re saying they have to get pre-approval from my insurance. Which isn’t true. And they’ll call me back.
And I’m crying again.
Last week I went in for an appointment to get an IUD. It was the second time I’ve tried to get one, since the first time a few years ago didn’t work. This time didn’t work either. Only this time my body rejected the IUD, twice. It was, to put it mildly, painful.
Worse, though, the whole rest of the week was not good either. It seems the whole thing completely messed up hormones. I think. At least this feels way too depressed and crying to be just me being frustrated about the state of the American health care system or mad about my foot. It feels chemical. And I suppose the only thing to do then, for now, is to keep moving forward and hope it passes. Otherwise, we’re a bit screwed.
For the record, the doctor’s office never called back.
Some days, though, I kill it. Rode 4:30 hard-ish. Did a 3-4 hours of social media work for the media channels I manage. Finished a draft on a piece, wrote another story, and did a short interview for a different article.
Also, the doctor’s office still never called back.
I have just finished running two hours and it was fine. And the doctor’s office still hasn’t called back. Maybe I can just run through this and it’ll all work out.
We have arrived at our VRBO in Tahoe-Donner and there is no running water.
Still can’t find the knob to turn the water on, and at this point I have to say I really don’t care. We’ll just call it camping at a cabin.
I have to ride to the community center to load up on water and go to the bathroom before I can continue on my long, long ride around Lake Tahoe. Only six more hours to go from here.
Everyone always want to know what I think about while I’m working out. Mostly I talk to people in my head, very specific conversations. Arguments. Interviews for when I’m famous. I now have a solid 40 minutes on why you are 100% wrong about the electoral college, fyi. Also I have written and delivered my Ironman victory speech multiple times on the off-chance I ever actually win one. And for a good 20 minutes I sang “I have crossed the Rubicon/ Let the bridge be burned behind me/ Come what may, come what may” from 1776. Outloud.
The ride really wasn’t that bad. Maybe I can actually do an Ironman in four weeks. And not get fired from anything.