IronMatron

 

This is Andy. My one-hour, ten-mile man. Have I MENTIONED how happy I am he's racing again? That is the man I fell in love with~!

Those of you who raced when you were in college or as a sponsored athlete after college will understand this better than I ever will, but for a long time Andy gave up racing--and I believe it was because it was too depressing for him. He ran so well-so fast at William & Mary (he would argue he never ran fast enough, but...) that he won't ever see times like those again. He ran very close to a 4 minute mile. He did the steeple in 8:49. He ran a hilly 15K in 47 minutes on a lark. He ran a 2:40 marathon without doing more than a couple months of training. For those of you who ran super fast in college and beyond, those times might seem solid, but not like OMG,  he was some Ryan Hall! But to those of us who haven't spent time in the world of track, those times seem unbelievable--just unbelievable.

But then he grew up, got married, had babies (or I had them, but he slowed down and ate ice cream with me), moved on to a normal weight (as opposed to the bony, anorexic look of most college runners) --and most importantly, he couldn't train the way he had, nor did he want to. And so he didn't race. What fun is it to race if you are not what you used to be? (I guess--but this is honestly what I don't get, I think b/c I simply was not a collegiate athlete and never experienced the glory of running a 4 min. mile.)

Over the years I've missed Andy racing. I love racing together (or separately, but together, if you know what I mean.) Racing and training is something we had in common when we were first together so many years ago--and it was sad when we weren't sharing it these last years. Anyway, I find it so exciting that he could be a top Master in New England if he even puts in a small effort--and will be top AG in tri, too (he is doing his first 1/2 Iron this summer) if he spends plenty of time on the bike. I want this for him--but I probably want it just as much for me. I love this stuff. It's always more fun if the person you are closest to shares your passion.

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Onto to moi. Of course.

I have been anayzling my race last weekend, and trying to discern why I am not thrilled with it. 

I am thrilled I PR'd. That is true. 

But the bigger truth is I think I'm not totally thrilled in general because I. got. beat. 

While I hate to admit that this is the the cause of my unease, I think it IS the cause of my unease. What good is it to PR if you don't beat everyone? 

Precisely the wrong attitude, so I am working on adjusting it. The first step is to admit I hate to get beat. Second step is---- ? not sure yet. Maybe to slap myself and say--You PR'd you dumb shit! Celebrate! It is good I want to beat everyone--but bad if I let it affect my feelings about an amazing performance on my part. You know? The truth is, I ran a stupid race (went out too fast--albeit on purpose) and I still PR'd. That's saying something.

I am also thinking about my jack rabbit approach, and how I succeeded in getting that very feeling that now has me deflated. Oh, the irony. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm smarter than I think I am, and I think I'm pretty smart. When you are in a race and you get passed--especially by the very people you don't want to pass you (ahem. Jeff. ahem. Steve. ahem Stacy. ahem, almost Erin.)--then you become deflated. It's hard enough to just run yourself into the turf. It's harder still to overcome the defeat of things not going well while still running yourself into the turf. I wanted to give up--I wanted to just reign it in and slow down and say, well! I guess it's a bad idea to take a 10 miler out at 10K pace! 

But I didn't. I need to learn to overcome that defeat--b/c that emotion is exactly what stopped me at Lake Placid. I need to master that emotion--feel it-get it and put it away when I am in a race. So I'm glad I ran the race stupidly. You just don't get the feeling of emotional defeat if you run intelligently and finish strong. We learn to overcome by having to overcome, right?

The problem is that when you race stupidly, even if you mean to so you can learn to battle a particular emotion head on, you still feel crappy after the fact because you wonder--could I have held my own if I just ran smart? Could I have stayed strong and challenged those who passed me? 

I think that's why I am deflated. And I have to learn to deal with that, too--because no one likes a person who can't cherish her successes just because someone else (or many someone elses) ran a better race than she did. Right? (Notice I keep asking you to affirm that my think isn't totally looney.)

One thing I did note is this: When you take it out too fast, the effect later on is that you feel like you SHOULD have it in you--but it's like you can't GET to it. It's a weird feeling. You can't access the speed in you... 

I wonder why that is? 

Another thing I have been thinking about: If you always race intelligently, than you never launch yourself into the unknown. What if I had been able to hold that pace? What if my 10k Pace really is my 10 mile pace, and I just hadn't pushed myself enough to discover this? Sometimes you have to be stupid to discover what you may not know. 

Not sure that made sense. 

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On a final note: Ange and I are about to come out. 

No, we aren't lovers.  

Actually, we are partners, though. In coaching. 

TriMoxie Multisport Coaching is now our official gig. 

The word Moxie is a neologism which derives from the trademark Moxie Soda, which was invented by Mainer Dr. Augustin Thompson in the 1870’s.
Since that time it has become an Americanism which has come to mean energy, courage, determination, skill, grit and guts--as in That girl’s got Moxie!

As you know from reading our blogs, Ange and I definitely have moxie.
We want you to have it, too, so if you are interested in our coaching, then email us at angeandmary@trimoxiecoaching.com. 

Our website will be up at the beginning of next week. 

We. are. pumped.