Journey Back to Kona Day 155: Dreaming

I haven't blogged in 12 days, and my last blog was about needing an intervention. Last night I felt like I was up all night dreaming!  I literally had a broad range of dreams that were incredibly vivid. In my last dream I was as soldier during WWII and I was with other American soldiers, and suddenly, I was running around a building and there were Nazi soldiers everywhere.  I couldn't get away from them.  I was about to shoot a man when I was captured and forced to sit down with a group of people.  One of them was an old woman.  She said something to me and I slapped her across the face.  Suddenly, I apologized, and tried to explain that I didn't hit old women.  Weird.  I could probably try to remember the range of my dreams, but as I write this their already flowing back into the recesses of my brain.  They were so real, and every time I woke up from one, it felt like I hadn't slept.

I kind of had that intervention.  Somehow, I've been trying extra hard to take some semblance of control over my life again. I've been good about working out, to the extent that my fatigue levels have been rising.  Two nights ago that reached a crescendo when my wife told me that I looked tired.  That's always a sign that I'm fried.  She also told me, after I mentioned this the next day, that I had been grumpy.  Grumpy old man, that's not what I want to be!  Nevertheless, that's my signal to rest, and yesterday was a pretty mellow day, although I did get in a 40 minute bike that included 5 two minute hard repeats up the 7% hill that runs up my neighborhood.  According to my coach, older men need those VO2 workouts, and I'll particularly need them for the hilly St. George Ironman in May.

I did manage to do the best workout ever last week, pushing my granddaughter in a jogging stroller for 8 miles, and I'll say, 8 very hilly miles that included a 1 mile 6-8% climb.  I followed that up with a 5 1/2 mile stroller run two days later that included the same climb.  That was one of the reasons for my fatigue at the end of the week.  If I'm going to be ready for my upcoming races, I'm going to need to keep up my training.  However, that also means that I'm also going to need to to modulate and not let the physical and mental stresses get the best of me.  

I'm someone who tends to remember my dreams, although I rarely, if ever, write them down right away. That might be an interesting experiment sometime. I wonder what I would learn.  I bought a book over a year ago about dreams, started to read it and never finished.  Always something more to learn in life. Always something to dream about.

Journey Back to Kona Day 143: I Need an Intervention

I've been desperately trying to find my balance, and regularly screwing it up. Today was a prime example. I'm no longer able to juggle all of the competing aspects of my life. I'm not sure that I ever have been, but I've convinced myself otherwise many times.  I talk about how my family comes first, but I continually let work get in the way. What is really screwed up is that I'm retired! I need an intervention.

I suppose calling yourself out for needing an intervention is much better than having the people who love you sit you down and telling you that you need one.  I am going to need help. That's key. I have proven time and again that I am unable to do this by myself. Left to my own devices, I say yes to everything that comes my way. That's the irony of anyone suggesting that I put anything less than a full-time effort into my last job running a nursing home chain. I've never had a full-time job where I've put in even close to 40 hours a week!  I've always put in a lot more. Now that I'm retired, I suppose that could explain why I'm floundering to find my proper balance.  My time is essentially unlimited.  That's why I need an intervention!

I have an Ironman coming up, but have already realized that I can not, should not, and will not set any expectations.  It would be great if I were prepared for it. It would also be great if I wasn't fully prepared, and just enjoyed the day and finished before the requisite 17 hour limit. I've never paced myself through an Ironman that way, this could be a first time.  Imagine taking some extra time during transition (naw, that will probably never happen for me, it's not in my DNA, besides, it's wasted time)? More appropriate would be to take extra time hydrating and nourishing for the first half of the bike (or more), and during the first few miles of the run (or more). Taking time to recover from the impact of each discipline would go a long way towards finishing comfortably, and actually taking time to enjoy the landscape and the experience. This is definitely an option, one which will be dictated by what happens over the next 12 weeks.  With that said, when all is said and done, Ironman should remain my healthy purpose, or rather my healthful purpose.

My "work" life has become a love:hate relationship.  First, to be clear, I'm not actually "working." I'm retired! I work for purpose. That purpose has to do with helping others. But, for the last forty years that obsession has been to the detriment of my family life.  At the age of 62, with a forty year anniversary coming up in May, it is longer healthy. It never was, but I managed. I can't manage any longer. Being a husband, a dad and a grandpa is too enjoyable to sacrifice.  It's time. But, knowing how much I've been trying to get there myself over the past few years, it is clear that I need an intervention.

But there are limits to purpose. Especially when it consumes every waking moment and detracts from the other things that bring you joy.  I wish I could separate them, but I can not.  It hasn't helped that we've been in the middle of a pandemic, and a quasi-dystopian world that has highlighted all of my expertise and skills. Purpose. Yeah, maybe there's a limit to purpose. That's why I need an intervention.

Journey Back to Kona Day 140: The Rubber Meets the Road

13 weeks to Ironman St. George, which also happens to be a World Championship race. If I am going to have the best race possible, there is no longer any time to waste.  It could be argued that I've already passed the point of no return, but I am rejecting that.  Two years ago, I was far less prepared and fit, and was going to do the race around the same time. In fact, it was February 24, 2020, a week before the world changed.  This time, I'm at a nadir of my physical fitness, and haven't been too far behind in terms of my mental fitness.  But, and I still don't really know if this is true yet, now is the time. It's time for the rubber to meet the road.  

If I'm truly going to be prepared in 13 weeks, it's time to go all in.  That means training every day. That particularly means putting in lots of hours on my bike.  And it means, continuing to put up the run numbers that I've grown accustomed to.  And, yes, it means swimming.

I started yesterday with my nearly 10 mile hilly run. I didn't push hard, but also didn't run too easily.  That went well.  Check.  In the afternoon, I got on my bike for almost an hour and just rode for fun.  That actually included some relatively hard efforts.  That went well.  Check. I'm anticipating getting in the pool before the week is over.

The backstop to all of this is that it doesn't matter.  I will not be defined by whether I'm fully prepared for St. George.  In fact, I will not be defined by whether I even do the race! It's just another goal. I've had many goals in my life and I've accomplished many of the most difficult among them. If I let my goals define me, I'm not who I want to be.  I just want to be me.  Maybe, that's actually where the rubber meets the road.

The past week has been a struggle, but for that matter, so have the past six weeks. I've struggled to find my balance point, and in doing so, the motivation to train has been subsumed by other motivations.  There's no right or wrong to which motivation should provide me my goals.  I've hit a lot of other goals over the past few weeks.  However, getting out of the bike yesterday was a reminder that I have unfinished business in St. George and that I still have my Journey Back to Kona. So, this week, the rubber meets the road.