Lightning strikes...

And the world all seemed well again...

I awoke today to this week's training schedule, and was loathe to discover that I had a 60-90 minute ride to do today. The notes said "easy ride". I was dreading another ride, much less a ride on the trainer, and had hoped for some rest today. But I should have seen it all coming...

I think my attitude was some remnants of a hangover from the weekend. No, I was most certainly not partying too hard (or at all)... Just a hangover of a long, hard training weekend that I was none too happy to get moving again. My legs were sore and the last thing I wanted to do was get on the bike.

I've learned through the training that, when you are most resistent to doing something, it usually means you need to do it the most. I despise that somewhat comical and farcical assessment, but I also cannot realistically deny its truth. I got my road bike set up on the trainer, because I didn't want to do the necessary adjustments to set up the Cervelo. Then, I took a little walk out onto the grass outside and saw what a beautiful day it was, and that made it even more difficult to contemplate another 60 minutes on an indoor trainer with a fan pointed at my face... This was going to be a long day and I hadn't started yet. I was grumpy...

I remembered something Lisa Bentley said at the Ironman Camp, about how she sometimes has those days where she just doesn't want to be out there. She makes a habit of NEVER missing a workout (bravo to her) but she still has those days of not wanting to go, and sometimes they pile up.

During those times, she says it is important to shake things up in your training. To try something new, to do the workout on your own terms.

And to ask the question, Do I want to give any of this up? Do I have more to lose than to gain by not doing the workout?

Ah, a moment of inspiration. I decided to forget the indoor trainer, a crutch I have been using ever since I broke my thumb, because I was worried about being able to deal with flats or a problem should I have one while riding solo. I had been worried about hitting bumps, crashing, etc. while wearing a big cast on my arm. I then went and pulled out the bike helmet, through on a bike jersey instead of a tank top I use for indoor riding, and pumped up my tires on the Cervelo. Immediately my mood changed. I was going to go riding outside for an hour in the beautiful sun, head down to Spanish Banks and catch some of the breeze, roll up the UBC hill, and head out on the SW Marine Highway, where I'd be able to let the legs go a bit and get some speed going.

I also left the heart rate monitor and watch at home, and decided to just ride for about an hour, or what felt like an hour. My usual route here would be about 45-50 minutes, so I decided to do a double loop of the SW Marine Highway, figuring that would get me home in just over an hour.

I set out, and took it easy. I was going to enjoy the ride and be bound to nobody's agenda. Just the sites and sounds I passed along, the cars on the road, the beach, the girls in bikinis, whatever I'd find along the way. I found myself sitting aero again for most of the ride, but this time I was calmer, I wasn't fighting the position. In fact, I took my hands off the aero bars and just folded them over each other while resting my forearms on the aero pads. I was almost praying, but in my case, I thinkI was just getting more connected with my ride, letting the bike take me somewhere and move at it's own pace. I stripped the bike of all water bottles and cages, save for one on the downtube for one bottle of water, in order to free the bike of some weight and let it fly a little more.

The ride was a pure joy, with nobody to talk to, nobody to pace with, just me and my bike out on the road. I was reconnecting with the beauty of solo riding, of enjoying the moment. I was inspired.

My ride came out to 1 hour, 1 minute... I don't know how far it was... And, today, I don't mind not knowing. And I like biking again. Lightning has struck twice...

"You don't want to be out here? Be proud of being out here..." - Me (to me, August 2006)

Lisa Bentley chatted with us about coming up with a theme for our race. Something to keep us pumped and motivated. I'm working on that. She has suggested little mantra's along the way... Like, when you feel like it's getting tough, imagine throwing your heart over the next hill, and letting your body follow. I like that. It says a lot of different things.
Ironman is a huge day... It's a very passionate day. Only by taking risks and chances, and pushing yourself, do you get something out of it. I can't help think that this year has been about me finding challenges to overcome, personally, spiritually, professionally, and physically. I think I saught those out, almost asked for them. I said "test me" and I got tested.

I do feel different, now, than I did even a year ago. More focused, but also more tranquil. I am more accepting of myself today than I was in January. I started this year in borderline depression (many people did, really... the weather in January didn't help) and started this blog in February for some reason I can't remember, but I think now and realize that I was asking myself to come back from that depression and start taking some control over my choices, my thoughts, and to find an adventure worthy of my undertaking. This led to my focus on Ironman. A wild and unpredictable adventure that would answer some serious questions I had... "Do I have a fire in me?" "Can I 'go for it' with 100% commitment?" "Will I make it to August?" The Victoria Half Ironman and Desert Half Ironman taught me some very personal lessons. The Victoria Half showed me I need to be prepared for anything, and that I also needed to be more focused. I approached that race non-chalantly and with very little organization... Then the Desert Half, which yielded the opposite. I had more determination and drive than ever, and I was not going to slow down for anything. I look at my crash as God signalling to me that I was getting ahead of myself.

Having done Ironman before already, I needed a new reason, and the journey has become part of that reason. Finding the journey WAS the purpose, and the destination has never been the purpose. Interesting for me to ponder that as the so-called "destination" approaches...

19 days, 13 hours, 25 minutes until the start gun goes off...