Though I didn't write a lot about Wildflower in my previous post, I did want to admit to one thing that happened after I found out I was disqualified:
I cried.
Seriously, how dumb is that? It is just a race for peets sake. But once they stripped me of my timing chip and my coach hugged me in sympathy, I felt the tears prick my eyes and turned into this big baby. I wasn't sad. I was just tired and sunburnt and speechless and all I was capable of was crying.
Now that I am 5 weeks away from Seattle to Portland and my bike rides have intensified, I am finding that I just feel...like an animal. Or rather, more primal.
Ok, that sounds weird. Let me explain.
In our everyday lives, we try to be rationale human beings and keep our emotions in check. We try to be polite, we don't yell at someone meandering in the hot foods section of Whole Foods even though deep down that is what we are dying to do. We control ourselves, and don't show the world our emotions.
However, once you start training for endurance sports, it gets a wee bit harder to keep yourself in check. (please note: I wrote "once you start', this doesn't apply to the hardcore people who can sleep for three hours and then wake up and say, "Oh, guess I will ride 200 miles today" and totally be ok. I am not sure what it is like for those guys. Maybe one day I will be that cool).
When I trained for my first marathon, I became super duper emotional and irrational. The training for hours and hours was getting to me. I remember it was my turn to bring cookies to the group workout and I went off on my boyfriend (now husband) for eating some of them. To be fair, he ate like A DOZEN cookies. IN ONE DAY.
I woke up the morning of the workout to see a suspicious amount of cookies missing. Then the yelling started.
"Did you eat my cookies? I MADE THOSE FOR MY WORKOUT GROUP! YOU KNOW WE ARE RUNNING, LIKE,TWENTY TWO MILES TODAY! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? ARE YOU TRYING TO SABATOGE ME? GARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR."
And he STILL wanted to marry me even after this outburst. Guess the lesson is, show someone your Incredible Hulk Side and if they stick around, they are a winner. Or you are a winner.
On my long bike rides I am aware of every emotion, every drop of sweat, and every pain. After 80 miles, I want to cry and hurl my bike off a cliff. My teeth feel furry from all the gatorade and gu I am injesting. I find myself grunting and making arm gestures because it is too difficult to talk to my riding partner. I am on a stupid bike and I would rather be at home watching The Real Housewives of Whatever.
But it isn't all bad. After riding 100(!) miles on Saturday, we stopped at Togos for non-sports nutrition grub. My otherwise mediocre turkey sandwich was an amazing delicacy and the sea salt and vinegar potato chips were life-altering. Don't even get me started on the oreo shake after the bike ride..sigh...
Anyways, there isn't a huge lesson here or theme to this random post...just that pushing your body for more than 3 hours is hard, but food tastes delicious.
