It helps having a training buddy to drag me to the pool. Yes this battle is still ongoing but after being told that every triathlete hates swimming I felt that excuse was no longer valid. Last week Larna and I moped our wedgied tog covered asses to the pool and smashed out a decent 1km swim. I felt pretty good being back in the water and I may have enjoyed pushing myself in this session.
What happened next was terrifying.
I had a great meal and was doing really well with my nutrition. Oh, no wait, AFTER that.
Chapter 2. The Spins
Wednesday morning I woke up suddenly at 4am with my room spinning out of control. Ever had that feeling when you've had a few too many wines and when you lie down you stop moving but the world doesn't? Well it was like that but without the fun of the wine.
After a morning of falling over and walking into things (more than usual) I went to the doctor. BPPV was my diagnosis.
|BPPV. Sounds like an STD. It's not.|
2 days spent in bed meant I missed my RPM classes (big sad face) and couldn't train. Friday I was back into it but after a run with Larna figured out things weren't as simple as this easy diagnosis. I went to see Fiona at Proactive and she untwisted my neck giving me back a bit of stability. Thanks to her and Maddie I'm getting back on track.
Darren from Cafe Refuel was the light of my dark week with his present to help out my training.
|A whooooole lotta sugar! And some Replace supplements.|
Chapter 3. Discipline
After a rubbish week of training, getting back into my weekend big sessions was not an easy feat. Wellington put on its finest weather display of hail, wind and horizontal rain and bed seemed like a better idea than going outside.
Here's how my weekend panned out.
I manned the f*ck up and I trained. I did 90 mins on my bike on my trainer in my lounge and I ran for 80mins in the rain and blistering cold wind. I hated every second of it.
But I did it.
Realising that running in the rain and wind wasn't my idea of fun, I turned to the treadmill for a hills session a few days later. Courtney and I ran and laughed, we laughed and ran. We pushed the incline, we tested our speed. And while she yelled motivational quotes to push the last few strides, I hung over a rubbish bin trying not to lose my breakfast.
Here's where I lost it. The plot thickens.
With just 10.5 weeks to go, close out week hit. This is the last week of a sales month where stress levels get high, the pressure is on and long story short, I worked my ass off. My training suffered.
Something pretty huge that came of this week was that I got the courage to admit to Emma when I'd missed a session. Or 2... It means I'm not lumped with training I can't handle the following week. It means she can adjust things for me so I don't put myself at risk of injury, or burn out.
I also hit my budget, which means I can at least now buy a wetsuit!
Chapter 5. The Soul Destroying Session
With sales month over and celebration hangover faded, I felt it was time to readjust my priorities. There's nothing like a long hilly run to heighten your awareness of 2 shit weeks of training.
Again, having a training buddy was crucial to getting through this session. Larna (my training saviour) and I spent our Sunday afternoon battling "spew mountain" followed by another 12km of whinging, quitting and tears. That was just me. Larns was amazing.
This is a session I will look back to. An important page in my training book of horrors. It contains moments that I will look back to when race day becomes too much. Moments that hurt, that seemed too hard to get through, moments that I did get through, moments that didn't kill me.
|Top of Mt Victoria. The smiles are fake. We ran another 10km after this. BOOM!|