Why I Tri – Windsurfing

As Jared and I pedaled toward Lookout Mountain, it felt like we were windsurfing – except we were on bikes, on gravel, with helmets, dodging cars.

I wanted to stop and just go home. Throw up my “fuck it” arms and do something safe inside. Hop on the ol’ trainer and watch Netflix. No wind. No cars. No shit on the road.

It sounded like a great idea. But we didn’t do that. We just rerouted our course. Instead of fighting up Lookout Mountain, then attempt to balance on our bikes like a trapeze artist with wind swaying us every which way, we stayed low.

It wasn’t even a far ride, about 45 miles or so, but it tuckered me out. I’ve been trying this whole “I’m-going-to-have-a-positive-spin-on-everything” mantra, so I kept telling myself that it’s just making me a better cyclist. Which in all reality, it is. If we never rode our bikes in the wind and always went inside, then how do we think we’ll do come race time. You have to train in all the elements. When you’re tired. When you just don’t want to. When there are fun things you’d rather be doing.

I also told Jared I was running 7.5 miles after our bike ride.

When I got back home, I grabbed my camelback because I knew I hadn’t had enough to drink that morning. I was kind of nervous using it because I never had before and it’s extra weight. Plus, I’m always cramping up, whether it be from breathing inefficiently or digestive cramps because all the blood is rushing to my legs and not sticking around to help me digest.

I started running and realized I picked the hilliest run I could have chosen. Also, my heart rate wouldn’t stay down, so it was equally tough to do hills while keeping my heart beat between 143-153. This was a tough run, not just physically, but mentally also.

I’ve been working on “mental toughness.” Some days I’m awesome at it. Nothing’s gonna stop me. Other days, more frequently, I get really down on myself, kinda thinkin’ I’m shit. I tried my damndest to convince myself that it didn’t hurt, that I wasn’t going to throw up, that I had enough energy to get through the run. And I did.

I mean, I cramped up, my heart was racing, I couldn’t get it to drop down, my legs were tired, the backpack was annoying me. It was a tough run and it was only 7.5 miles. But if I didn’t go out and run in the bullshit windsurfing, with the camel back, up every damn hill in my neighborhood, I wouldn’t be prepared for the next hill I climb.

The whole point is about pushing yourself; slipping out of that comfort zone and letting yourself maybe fuck up a little.