140.6 Miles of Celebration

It's nearly 5:00 p.m. and I'm sitting in our hotel room with my feet up and composing what will be my last post before I become an Ironman...again. As I sit here and work through my race in my mind, I feel a joy. This is a kind of joy I only get from taking on something as monumental as 140.6 miles of insanity. It's the kind of joy that can only come from hard work, dedication, and perseverance. It's the kind of joy that comes from knowing the hard work of nearly an entire year has been done and knowing the only thing left is to go out and have the kind of experience I've been dreaming about from the moment I registered. It is likely that this won't be the exact outcome I had hoped to achieve due to my circumstances with my Achilles injury, but this will not keep me from finding the kind of joy that comes from completing an Ironman. Tomorrow will be more than just an event. It will be a 140.6 mile celebration.

Although I'm looking forward to providing you with a detailed account of my race, before I even get up early tomorrow to go to the starting line, I want to say thank you very much for checking in and following me on my blog. So, thank you. I hope you have found your time reading my posts and watching my videos worth your while.

Peace.

BeginnerTriathlete.com, and a Common Dream

Last night I met my friends from BeginnerTriathlete.com. We had been interacting through the Internet for the greater part of this year. We shared ideas, stories, and advice. We laughed, we teased, we encouraged, and we had each others back, and all of this because we all share a common dream. That dream of course being to cross the finishing line at Ironman Louisville in our respective times, in our own way, but all of us either joining the Ironman family for the first time, or yet again. What a pleasure it was to have finally met in person the cast of characters that have really helped bring Ironman Louisville 2011 to life. This group couldn't be more varied in ability and personality. I was nervous/excited about meeting, and the gathering, though we had never met in person, was like a reunion of life-long friends. Tomorrow we will toe the line and cover 140.6 miles and share a life-long bond.
Thank you for sharing this journey with me BTers. You are fantastic!
Peace.

Real Joy, Genuine Hope, and Serious Posibility

I just deleted a page worth of text outlining what I did today. It noted the tasks I completed and told about how I'm basically packed and ready to go. Then I realized, nobody cares. Not that anyone cares about all this other stuff I've been posting, but I'm just sayin'. 

I had a moment today that was different than any other moment in my day. It was a moment I wasn't necessarily going to blog about, but it was still something I thought I shouldn't keep to myself. It was a moment that seemed more spiritual than intellectual, yet it all took place within my head.

When I was mowing the lawn, a thought came to me. This wasn't just a thought, because it came as a packaged deal with real emotion. It went something like this:

"You are going to be able to run part of the marathon at Louisville." 

I felt joy. Not joy as if I thought that would be nice, but joy as if I was just given the green light, the o.k., or permission to give it a shot. I remember smiling at this point and then a vision came that looked like this:

I was in the marathon portion of the run. I had half the run ahead of me, but I started running. I ran a mile, then walked a mile. I ran a mile, then I walked a mile. I was making up time, I was passing people, and I was feeling good while a smiled, high-fived volunteers, and...ran. 

The vision shifted to this:

I turned the corner and saw the finish line. I was running...slowly, but running just the same. There was loud music, the crowd on hand lined the street, and I was getting closer to pay dirt, and Mike Riley was saying, "Sam Wilkinson...You are an Ironman!"

I felt joy again. I felt hope. I felt like these thoughts, and these visions were true signs of things to come. I smiled again.

Then I started to talk myself out of this reality. I don't know why, but a voice said, "Really? Can this be true? Can I do this? Can I run?"

The reply I got was, "Hey, you were patient, you showed you are willing to walk the entire marathon. You demonstrated perseverance under duress...and now...now you may run."

I smiled on the inside this time. A story from the bible came to mind. I thought of Abraham about to sacrifice his son Issac, and then God stopping him, and telling him it was a test of his faith. Was this as test of faith? 

I continued to try to ignore the negativity sneaking into my head, but it carried on by saying, "Well, this won't happen until you have at least 6 miles to go." It went on to say, "Well, maybe even with just two miles to go. Most likely just down the finish shoot, but c'mon, for half the marathon?" 

At this point my joy lost a bit of its luster. I began retreating to what I figured, in that moment, my reality would inevitably be. 

However, I haven't lost sight of the fact that I felt real joy, genuine hope, and serious possibility, and it was...and like it still is within my grasp.

I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm willing to keep an open mind. In three days I'll find out.

Tomorrow I'll be putting the van in 'drive' and I will be continuing the metaphor, but I will be traveling the actual Road to Ironman Louisville, and it is full of possibility.

Peace.

Screaming Yellow

Yellow is good for cycling. Screaming yellow is even better. Both of these are great choices for being seen while riding. Not a social status kind of 'being seen,' but the kind that will keep you on the road and some auto's bumper up your a**. Screaming yellow or high-viz yellow, as it is sometimes called is fantastic for any kind of lighting situation when you want to be seen. So clearly, it is good for cycling.

When I ordered my Michelin Pro3 tires to put on my GURU for Ironman Louisville, I clicked on the color 'yellow' when I had to select the color I wanted. I figured this would bring together my sunflower yellow and silver helmet. Everything else on my bike is black, white, and red. It was a reasonable plan. However, when my tires arrived, they were not the sunflower yellow, like my helmet, but rather they were the screaming/high-viz yellow like my Pearl Izumi cycling jersey I wear when in lower light conditions. I could have returned the tires. I could have exchanged them for the color red. They would have looked nice. I know because that's what was on the bike before. They looked quite nice actually. Instead however, I decided to just screw conventional wisdom and I put these screaming/high-viz yellow bad boys on. So, if you are in Louisville, and you miss the black and white GURU with screaming/high-viz yellow tires, I really can't be blamed for this.

They look pretty awesome. At least that's what I've committed to telling myself and believing. Regardless, I have new tires and tubes and my triathlon bike. I'll go for a short spin Wednesday to make sure everything is good, and then all I'll have to do is clean it, tighten a couple screws, and my GURU will be good to go.

So, here's to screaming/high-viz yellow.

Peace.

Appreciation Nevertheless

Today was a good ride, but frankly, not a good as I would have liked. I basically stayed relaxed the entire time. I knew this 40 mile ride would mark the last of my long-ish rides. The sun was out, there was a moderate WNW wind, and there was no pressure to go fast at all. However, I didn't feel the flawless, effortless motion I was hoping for. I wanted to cruise along the road averaging around 18-19 mph, feel the wind sneaking through my helmet, and know I could punch it at any time, to put the hammer down. Just about everything was in place, but I felt slightly more fatigued than I would have liked to begin my ride, and then I had to concentrate on keeping my pace relaxed and steady. This was a good thing, because I need to work on my patience, but I was hoping for a free-flowing kind of ride.
Once I was on my way back and had the luxury of a tailwind, my ride was more like I had imagined. Little effort, and the ground zipping beneath me. I'm confident I've mentioned this previously, but I don't mind noting it again...I love a tailwind.
My ride did not meet the perfect vision I had, but I had a beautiful day to ride, the roads were by-and-large smooth and safe, I had no mechanical issues, no flat tires, and no run-ins with cars or people who would rather not have cyclists on the road. I also had plenty of fluid and I enjoyed my time being out.
I don't have any rides longer than this prior to Louisville. In fact, my next longest ride will be a very relaxed 20 mile ride on Monday or Tuesday. So, my ride might not have as been as good as I wanted it to be, but it was good, and I am blessed for being able to have had it.
Day...ride... appreciated.
Peace.

Eating and Disorderly

I'll be the first to admit it: My name is Sam, and I have a funk food eating problem. My wife made a peanut butter cream pie. I ate a couple pieces...large pieces. My children visited a teacher/friend of ours and made her the same kind of peanut butter pie. They didn't eat it all and brought it back home. It was about 10:00 p.m. when they got home. I ate a piece...and a half. I worked at school today and when I got back I had a large salad. When I was done, I had another piece of peanut butter cream pie, but it doesn't end here. My neighbor called and said he and his wife ate a couple pieces of a homemade cheesecake their friend made for them, but they didn't want to eat the rest. He asked if I would take it off his hands. Could I say no? He left his house, I left mine, and we met in the middle. I carried it straight home and put it right in the fridge.
"Nice job," I told myself, "You didn't even eat any."
My children came home from their kayak trip and I told them about the cheesecake in the fridge. The girls each had a piece. However, one of them didn't want to finish it.
"Dad, I can't finish this, do you want it?"
I could have lied. I could have said no, but I didn't, I said I would take it. So, I ate 1/4 of a piece of cheesecake. I didn't need it. I shouldn't have eaten it, but I did. I ate it and enjoyed it, but then felt like crap for doing so.
There is ice cream in the freezer. There is also chocolate malt mix in our house. I haven't touched either yet, but I can feel their pull. I feel like a slob. I need to remember this slob feeling when that ice cream and malt mix comes out later. Maybe I can avoid it.
I've liked sugar for as long as I can remember. I love to eat junk food. It's awful for me. Of course that's why it's called junk food, but do I listen?
If I viewed eating junk food like I view smoking, I would certainly be better off...but I don't. I think smoking is nasty and I think junk food is wonderful...albeit evil.
I was interviewed for a triathlon podcast several years ago. I openly admitted that I'm weak when it comes to proper nutrition. I admitted that I want the doughnut in the teacher's lounge just as badly, if not more, than the next person. I'm admitting it right now. I'm a junk food junkie.
I've been sugar free for about thirty minutes. If I need to, I'll call my sponsor to talk me off the ledge, and when I do, I'll use my cell phone. Oh wait, I don't have a cell phone...or a sponsor.
It's a good thing I'm on The Road to Ironman Louisville, but it's a bad thing that if I'm not careful, I'll be rolling down it, or puking on it.
Peace.

Recognizing, and Letting the Joy in My Journey

A little over twenty miles were behind me and admittedly, they were not as enjoyable as I would have liked. My pace was easy-going. It was the last of my long rides. It was an 80-mile loop through a beautiful countryside, with rolling hills. I had sunshine and only a few stray clouds overhead. So, why was I keeping the joy from coming?
I've been training all year with Ironman Louisville in mind. My most challenging training, with the exception of this long ride was done, and I should have been thrilled. Instead however, I allowed my training to be perceived as work in the last few days, and this ride was no exception. This ride became something I had to do, instead of something I really wanted to do. This told me a few things. One, this had to be my last long ride because I was ready for a break. Two, I am about as ready as I'm going to be to toe the line in Louisville, and finally, that I was losing sight of why I do this.
When I recognized the feelings I was having I was disappointed in myself. I thought, "Man you are selfish! It is a Friday, in the middle of the day. The sun is shining. There isn't much wind, the roads are smooth, you have a wonderful bike, and the ability to ride it. Look around. The grass is green, the trees are full of healthy leaves, and you out here doing what you love. How many others can say this?"
The next thing I did was clear my mind. I listened to the birds singing. I looked across a rolling cornfield that led to a quiet woods where a deer was standing. I saw a dragonfly zip by.
Next...I smiled. I smiled and kept smiling. I almost laughed from the sheer joy I was experiencing from being on my bike and moving across the earth. I shook my head thinking about the fact that I wasn't enjoying myself only moments earlier and I said a little prayer in my head.
     God, thank you! Thank you for this beautiful day! Thank you for this wonderful opportunity! Thank
     you for the ability to ride, and to enjoy this experience! Please forgive me for taking all of this for
     granted. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Amen!
Now even though I was lovin' life, feelin' good, and praisin' God, I had to put my game face on when a car came cruising over the hill I was climbing. I couldn't be grinning like an idiot after all.
Even after I made lemonade out of what appeared to be lemons, I still had some stirring to do. When I reached roughly 40 miles, it was about time to make a turn that would put the wind at my back, and I loves me a tailwind. My energy was starting to get a bit low, but a little GU energy gel and the tailwind brought me back to life. I was almost effortlessly rolling down the road that was leading me home. The grinnin' idiot was on the inside, but I maintained my bada**, guy riding his bicycle 80 miles look for any passersby.
 "Clunk! Pssssssst!"
Of course I knew, as readily as you did when you read this, that I had a flat tire. I wasn't upset, I wasn't mad, I don't even think I swore. I could have been upset. I could have been mad. Heck, this was my fourth flat tire this season. I'd had my share of flats and I didn't need another. No, instead of contributing to my negative circumstance with a negative response, I calmly got off my bike, and changed the tube. Although the tire was battered and pushed to the brink of a long season, both the tire and tub held up, and I was able to finish my ride.
This was another adventure in my journey down the Road to Ironman Louisville, and although it took me 20 miles into this particular adventure to appreciate the day, it was a great one!
Peace.