An Unexpected Mental Workout

I've been fretting for the last 36 hours over my run test today. Academically, I never excelled at taking multiple choice (more like multiple guess to me) tests. I'd read the question and come up with an answer that wasn't exactly like any of the choices. My ego says that those tests really don't measure my true fund of knowledge. As a result, I have test anxiety.

So for the last 36 hours I ate more carbohydrates, slept 10 hours last night, had 9 gm of carbs/kg of my weight for breakfast and set out on my run test. The loop around my house is 3.31 miles and has the same elevation gain as the course I did my first run test. I didn't want to miss yoga this morning to run the local 5K and convinced myself that I could save $15 of the registration fee and run at home. Garmin on, I warmed up for 3 minutes, hit the lap button and took off.

I told myself that I would not overthink this run, not let the neurosis spiral me into negativity. I told myself that I would fearlessly face the pain, embrace it, eat it without chewing, and fart it out my ass. The first mile hurt, but I kept counting my footfalls: 3 steps per second, a rhythm I've trained almost to instinct. The second mile hurt a bit more, but mom's HTFU voice told me to lean forward at my ankles, relax my shoulders, and dig deep. At around the end of the second mile, I looked at the time elapsed on the Garmin. I realized that I would have to run faster than a 6 min/mile to make my first run test time. WTF?!

The floodgates opened and thoughts of defeat washed over me: "My god, Boon, YOU SUCK! You're gonna be 3 minutes slower than you were 6 weeks ago! Did I mention YOU SUCK? So much for your faith in the whole Vdot/E-pace thing! You are not the runner you used to be."

You get the point.

I made the last turn to the last mile and faced the steepest hill of the run. I knew happy, positive thoughts weren't going to cut it for me. I knew distracting myself by looking around for the kestrel (the bird, not the bike) that perches in the field on the right side of the road wouldn't work either. So I summoned the most calm and assertive voice I could, "So what if it's 3 minutes slower, FINISH IT. Finish it strong."

I charged up the hill and nearly puked at the top. So what if I ran slower, I could at least be proud of my effort up this hill, at least I will finish strong.

3.1 miles came quickly and I hit the lap button. 3 minutes slower? Nope, those were the 3 minutes from my warm-up--the time display is total time elapsed, not lap time! Geez! My oversight and stupidity is stunning and quite funny.

The real exercise this morning was not in my legs, but in my head. 2 years ago during IM Lake Placid 2006 I asked Kelly Berkiessel about her experiences in Ironman racing, particularly IMLP. I had never done an Ironman at that time and was excited about signing up the next morning.

I asked, "Kelly, when was your 'dark moment' during this race?"

She told me that it started at the bottom of the hill by the horse stables and continued up to the turn around at the end Lake Placid Drive.

She said,"It's basically one long uphill that doesn't seem to end. You really have to control your negative thoughts in a race like Ironman."

I didn't really grasp the truth of her statement until 6 months ago when I was running up that very hill during IMLP and was completely annihilated by my negative thoughts. At no point in my training did I think that I would be done in mentally. I had prepared for goggles being kicked off my head, flat tires and exploding bikes, blisters, hyponatremia, dehydration, and gastrointestinal shutdown. I never thought for a minute that thoughts and emotions churning between my ears would bring me to a standstill. I'm not a pessimist, a defeatist, an Eeyore in life--why would I be one at Ironman--the thing I've wanted to do since I saw Julie Moss claw her way across the finish line?

I've taken these last 6 months to figure out that question, to really face my emotions and thoughts about my athletic performance and ultimately myself without judgement. Yep, self-awareness is certainly enlightening, but getting there can be difficult and painful. I would like to stop the "You suck" voice in my head. However, until I do there's no point in feeling bad about it or hating that voice and feeling bad about that.

Today I hope I did what Kelly told me about in 2006. I hope I'm training myself to quiet the doubting voice, to control my negative thoughts. It was worth those 3 minutes of inaccurate slowness.