Off-season ponderings

Kevin and I have returned from our 2 week trip to Paris. What a wonderful way to spend the off-season! For the first few weeks after Ironman, I spent my time reluctantly resting feeling guilty about letting my fitness go. Then, I rested with a vengeance. I thought, “I can eat this greasy pizza/sleep in until 10am/not even look at my running shoes because I did an Ironman and I earned it!” I felt rather petulant and indulgent at the time. Finally, overcome with guilt of letting my fitness go in such a petulant and indulgent manner, I tried to work out only to find myself in Zone 5 at the slightest exertion and mentally fried.
And then there was Paris…Kevin and I hanging out for 2 weeks with no real schedule, soaking up a lovely culture and a truly beautiful city. We saw a lot of historic art (after giving Mona Lisa at least 5 minutes of study, Kevy decided that she was quite overrated and agreed with me that DaVinci's Madonna of the Rocks was far more inspiring) and experienced some amazing art (Winged Victory, David’s Coronation, Venus de Milo, Caillebotte’s Floor Scrapers, pretty much the entire Rodin museum and Espace de Salvador Dali). We wandered through many neighborhoods marveling block after block at the architecture, ran laps around the Luxembourg Gardens (which were Maria de Medici’s “backyard”), and rode bikes along the Seine. We went to the bars and cafes where Sartre, Camus, Rousseau, and Hemingway hung out. We discovered how Paris is obviously the City of Light and that if one could assign gender to a city Paris is most definitely a woman. I practiced my floundering French on anyone who would listen (just about every Parisian we tried to communicate with was patient and friendly). I learned that it is easier to speak and be understood than to listen and understand. Kevin has been inspired to PAINT! His ideas and images are an amalgam of Picasso’s cubist style, Dali’s surrealism, and something completely his own.
This is what off-season is all about: discovering and rediscovering what inspires us and brings us joy, revisiting the other sides of our multi-faceted selves.
Here’s what the off-season is NOT about: 2-hour lunches, 3 ½ hour dinners, each starting with kir royal, appetizers (for me: foie gras—that unctuous and heavenly slab of animal fat!), entrees of duck confit (cooked in its fat) or steak with green peppercorn sauce or roasted guinea fowl, potatoes whipped in cheese curds and garlic, amazing red wine with dinner, cheese plate, dessert, after dinner liqueur, and finally café crème (yep, it’s half cream!). I think it’s perfectly fine to eat like that every once in a while. After all we were in Paris. But we did that for 2 WEEKS!! Like true addicts we knew it wasn’t right and that we should probably clean up as we dove head first into glorious, calorie-rich feast after feast. We managed to drag our bloated carcasses out for a couple of runs and rides but ended up “refueling” at the chocolate-covered waffle and crèpe stand. There’s nothing like a nutritional transgression to remind you of one of the great reasons to be into triathlon.
Now back at home, we’re settling back into our routines but with a wider, clearer view of the world that is so full of color, shapes, and symbols. We’re both hungry to get back to training—of course, with the taste of delicious French wine and pastries warm in our mouths.

Kitima-Lessons from 2 Wheels on Dirt

About 2 years ago my friend Shari and I both had some major stresses in our lives resulting in changes in marital status among other things. It was about that time that we both took up mountain biking in earnest. While I won't make this blog entry a screenplay for a movie on the Lifetime or WE channel ("Mountain Biking Divorcees Take on the World and Dirt"), it's irresistable to make comparisons of fat-tire achievements to post-divorce life: overcoming fears of downhills, jumping over obstacles, and getting up after a fall.
Anyhoo, today Shari and I had one of the finest days on our bikes at Dryer Road Park. There's nothing like riding a narrow, twisting, and root-clogged single track to hone one's mental focus. You really must look only at the path that you want to go (and not at the object with which you don't want to collide)--there's not much time for anything else. That is, until I fall. I just need to fall hard a couple of times to become mentally paralyzed with the FEAR of falling, with the MEMORY of pain. I'm trying to practice some mental toughness to combat this fear, letting each subsequent log I clear, each climb I clean be a small victory to erase that fear. I also find that having Shari ride in front of me and seeing her bounce over those logs or descend over a ledge staying upright really helps me overcome my fear as well.
We're coming to a part of the trail with alot of climbs with logs. I usually unclip, hit the brakes, dab, get off and walk the bike here. Not today. Shari's absolute fearlessness inspires me over the first log. Just as I'm relieved to stay upright I hear her,"Another log right around the bend...pedal, pedal, pedal!!!" And then I'm over the second one. My first time clearing that section of trail ever.
When I ask her what she's thinking going over those bumps.
"I'm not. I know I can do it and I just go."
There's a lesson here for me. I think about Mary telling me to race more with my heart. I'm learning to concentrate without overthinking, act on instinct (which is trusting my abilities), and acknowledging fear without letting it dominate my emotions. My hope is that these lessons will carry over to training, racing, and living.
I thank her for riding first and inspiring me with her courage. She tells me that having me behind her drives her to ride harder up the hills because she doesn't want to slow me down. Ahh, mountain bike symbiosis...