Training for Life

For as long as I can remember, when someone asks me what race I'm training for, my standard response is to reply with the name of the race and then comment, "if I don't have something on my calendar to train for, I won't exercise at all." I always had an event on the horizon to train towards: triathlons in the summer, marathons in the fall and winter. When the pandemic hit last March, I was training for Ironman St. George.

Along with the uncertainty that came in the late weeks of February and early weeks of March 2020, I was also reaching the biggest weeks of training for the race. I remember that on one day, I did a 4000 yard race prep swim feeling so excited about how strong my swim would be at the race. Only to find that two days later when I went back to the rec center for my next swim, the door was locked with a handwritten sign: "Closed until further notice." I didn't swim again until June.

I remember messaging my coach and telling her, "I know I had a 75-mile bike ride on my plan but I just couldn't bring myself to do it," after bailing out of a long ride early in March. "That's okay," she responded, "Nobody is motivated to do anything right now." I went from hoping the race would still take place to hoping that it would be cancelled. When we finally got the news that it would indeed be cancelled, I was relieved to have it off the calendar.

As you all know by now, of course, every single event last year was cancelled. This was a small impact on the scale of what else was happening in the world, but for me, it was probably the hardest thing to wrap my head around.

Now what? What would I do, given my standard statement that I wouldn't train at all without something to train for? 

Well, I started to just do whatever I wanted to each day. I ran most mornings on the less busy creek paths so that I could stay away from people and avoid having to pull a mask up and down. I took my bike out by myself for meandering rides with no intervals, no heart rate goals, no purpose except to be outside. I'd spent the last couple of years moving away from cycling, building up my running instead, but during the pandemic the opposite happened. Being on the bike was the one way to get around and see things -- I felt like I must have felt as a child on a bike -- it was transportation, it was freedom, it was a way to get away from my small apartment for a while.

Trent got back into cycling too -- the golf courses were closed -- so we started planning our weekend trips around riding in either Colorado or Kansas/Missouri. We rode up Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park. We rode around the Copper Triangle. We rode up and down the Katy Trail across the state of Missouri. We found cycling again and we became closer together because of it, and because of that, I'm so grateful. (We also own five more bikes than we had at this time last year, but that's another post.)

Trail Ridge Road

When the pool at my apartment complex reopened in June 2020, I bounded back into the water, grateful for every stroke. I was so happy to feel the cool water rushing over my skin and for the calm peacefulness that only comes with being submerged in the water, the only place that I have the ability to remove everything from my mind except the laps that I'm counting. It was pure joy to be back in the water.

By mid-September, even though I loved working with a triathlon/running coach, I had decided instead to use that money towards mental health, and I started talking weekly with a counselor. In one of our conversations, Elizabeth said to me, "exercise is like breathing for you," and I've held onto that phrase. I think it's just a perfect way to put it. Physical movement really is the only thing that centers me and puts me in the frame of mind that I need and want to be in.

I remember years ago, Dawn would say that her goal was to be in shape to build up to do an Ironman within a few weeks' notice, and I was in awe of what that meant. Why would anyone do that much training for no reason? Well, with nothing at all to train for except the love of the sport, I found myself swimming, biking, and running every day of the week, doing double workouts and enjoying them all. Partly it was because I didn't have anything else to do. But mostly, being able to remove the pressure of having a particular race goal allowed me to just enjoy the training. 

A stress fracture in January prevented me from running, which gave me more time to ride my bike. Not surprisingly, as soon as they were available, I signed up for several gravel bike races: the Old Man Winter Rally in February, the Pony Xpress in Trinidad in May, the Mad Gravel sprint race a week later, CO2UT a week after that. I was happy but not too surprised to learn that by biking more, even with only unstructured training, my strength on the bike and my handling skills have improved. 

Old Man Winter Rally, mud and all

CO2UT was excellent - Put this one on your list for next year!

I'd signed up for the Leadville Marathon for June 2020 and had it deferred to this year, and I didn't want to miss out. I love that race, but was skeptical about how it would go. On only bike training plus about a month of running, was it really wise to try to complete the full distance at this race? Should I drop to the half? I decided to go for it and do the full, thinking the worst thing that could happen is that I'd end up finishing late in the day and miss the time cuts. I completely surprised myself by not only finishing within the allotted time, but also getting a course PR - I was five minutes faster than when I'd actually trained for the race three years ago. Who knew.

The views in Leadville will keep me coming back year after year.

I don’t think I’ll lose the joy of training just because racing is back. At least I hope I won’t. When I was in college, one of the requirements for a degree was to finish a "lifetime fitness" course, meaning a sport you could continue to enjoy over your lifetime, not high school team sports like football or volleyball. I picked ballroom dancing - I'm giggling as I recall that class. I'm probably the only person in the history of Trinity University who didn't take it as pass/fail, and who only achieved a B in ballroom dancing. I haven't ballroom danced a step in my life since I graduated. But I'm swimming, biking, and running every day, and I couldn't be more grateful.

This weekend's Opal Wapoo Gravel Experience in Excelsior Springs, MO, was the latest top notch gravel adventure.