I have spent the past six months mildly, and on occasion, intensely, hating triathlon. No posts since Los Cabos should serve as a testament to that fact.
I came off last season tired, then accumulated some health issues on top of that. The common sense thing would have been to stop, heal and recover. Good luck with that concept, I never really warmed to common sense in any matters long distance triathlon. What is common sense about an Ironman in the first place, anyway?
Consequently, I ended up showing up for an Ironman race in May with sciatica, an active kidney stone and inflamed hip rotator tendons. I threw massages and chiropractor adjustments at it in the days before the race, to no avail. On race day, I hobbled around on course, mostly angry and depressed the whole time. Then finished, with an unremarkable result, and a broken spirit.
After returning home, I had more chiro. Then passed the kidney stone. Started physiotherapy for those hip flexors, I got some exercises to do daily, which I quit after a week.
All the while continued to train. By June, I was still down in the gutter. Almost went to race the half in Mont Tremblant, and only bailed on it the last day of registration. Everything all packed up for the race, but no will, at last, to make the drive to Canada and line up...
I continued to train, keeping my eyes on Ironman Mont Tremblant, our family favorite. Three weeks to race day I went for a long ride on the tri bike, and for the first time since May, outside. I ride inside these days, except for races. I decided to ride only until I started to really hate it. I thought that would come in an hour or two. I went early, and nature was beautiful. I thought of my friend, the Future Pro, who was racing his A-race for the year that same day, for Kona qualification. I wished him luck and tried to channel energy his way. I kept going for five hours, and felt … better. This past weekend I got six hours in, outside, on the tri bike again. A bear crossed before me, with two cubs. I stopped, gave them some room.
I guess things are looking up. Time heals everything. Life is rolling hills, like the terrain we ride here.