Reminders during taper madness

I finished my last brick workout today and unexpectedly, I broke down in tears. That's it. Now it's onto race week. And then race day. All those months of training have flown by. What seemed like a distant (crazy) goal to train for is finally within sight. All those hours plugging away on my training, sore & hating myself for signing up for this challenge ... I sat down on the porch to take it all in. It feels like awaiting a trip to Disney World and the death chamber at the same time.

The taper madness... I thought I was ready. Believe me, I was physically exhausted and more than ready to rest! I'd been looking forward to these weeks and let my body reset after beating it up all the way up to peak training month.

Here's the madness aspect of the taper. The mind argues that it wasn't enough. It's telling me I still have ways to go."What makes you think you can even toe the starting line?" It makes me question even my strongest training days. "Do you honestly think that's enought to carry you through to the finish line?"

I have many worries. Lack of hills where I live compared to the bike course. I didn't follow one specific training plan. I had two and made it work for me and my ultra racing. It doesn't mean I half-assed anything.  I trained like crazy, sometimes more than what was on the schedule and often questioned everything I did with my unofficial coach, Chris.

I'm terrified. The thought of what I'll be doing in 8 days scares me to tears.  And now with my body breaking down (hip and hamstring), add panic. But here are some things I do know and want to remember no matter what happens on the course that day:

I worked my ass off for this.  My body has been trained for the distances of all 3 sports. I spent hours in the pool, swimming endless laps, chlorine in my sinus, showing up to classes and client sessions with goggle marks and wet hair, fighting the mind that tells me I can't possibly swim another lap, let alone another 30 min.

I toughed it out through the backaches, boredom and god-awful saddle pain as I pedaled for hours on my trainer. Teaching the body and the mind that sitting on the saddle for 4+ hours twice a week is completely normal and that saddle pain will become numb soon enough.

Running was my refuge. And while I continued with my ultras to keep my mileage up, I had to discipline myself during the non-race weeks to not go too crazy with the miles to be ready for the bike/run days.

The most extraordinary part of the training process has been that my mind thinks this is now all completely normal. Minimum of 1 hour straight through swim? Of course. Century Rides? They're a great way to spend the day. That statement is insane to me as I used to hate riding the bike. I was most concerned about ramping up my miles on the bike. Run beyond the point of exhaustion? Alright, that's something I've already earned through ultras. But running a marathon AFTER 2.4 mi swim and 116 mi bike? Why not.

While I've logged in the hours and miles with literal blood, sweat and tears (and crazy tan lines) to be race day ready, I know all too well that my body can also turn on me. With several DNFs under my belt, I've learned that it can decide that it's just not going to happen that day. And this is what scares me the most. I'll fight for that finish line, but I'm at the mercy of my joints and muscles.  I'll be giving it all I have no matter what. They'll have to pull me off the course.

In my wildest dreams, I never would have imagined myself here.  From my crazy, abusive past to now going for an Ironman title? Who'd have thought...

In 2 weeks, I'll line up with 2,000 others who've put themselves through similar hell as I did. We'll suffer the long and inevitably hot day on the bike, shuffle through the miles on even hillier run course in our exhausted stated. And like the badass athletes before me, I want to hear the words, "Dyenna, YOU are an IRONMAN!" Most of all, I want to prove once again that you don't have to be a victim of your past but be a survivor. And LIVE. Live your best life. It's the best revenge.