Miley Cyrus is right: It’s all about the climb

A view of Mirror Lake. (Note: This picture was taken last year the day for Ironman Lake Placid.)

With two laps of Mirror Lake completed, my fellow Fireman Ironman training partners were stripping their wetsuits, drying off and heading back to their accommodations to prepare for the long run, which would begin at 12:30 p.m.

Me?

I was trying to avoid throwing a pity party for myself. With less than 5 weeks to go until Ironman Lake Placid, I’m sidelined from running thanks to a cranky right leg that is suffering from a mixture of tendinitis and ITBS.

Good times.

So as I exited the water, I did not strip my wetsuit. I did not dry off.

I grabbed my water shoes, sucked down a gel and some fluids, tucked my mp3 player in my swim cap and re-entered the lake. My long run would be an aqua jog.

I’m no stranger to aqua jogging. I’ve had to resort to it in the past as I was healing from similar injuries over a year ago. (Yes, it’s a problem with my form. Yes, I’m working on fixing it.) Usually,  I aqua jog in the pool at my gym, so Mirror Lake was a vast improvement over the concrete walls of the gym. Even so, the voices wanted to bring me down.

“How could this possibly be working?”

“This is a waste of time…my run fitness is going to hell.”

“I wish I could run…”

And so they went for the first ten minutes or so.

Then I thought of what pro triathlete Karen Smyers had said to us the night before at the post-long ride camp dinner: “Your attitude makes a big difference in your performance. If you find yourself in a temporary down, just remember it’s gets better. Try to see what might be good about your situation.”

John with Karen Smyers at the post-camp barbecue on Sunday night.

While she was speaking specifically about race day, Karen’s advice applies equally well to training–or any aspect of life for that matter. So with a change of my brain, I started to think about what aqua jogging was doing for my body–rather than focus on how I wasn’t “actually” running. For example:

  1. I can work both my upper and lower body.
  2. I can isolate and concentrate on activating my weak gluteal muscles, which are the root cause of my cranky leg.
  3. I can stay nice and cool in the water, rather than sweating and slugging it out on a hot run course.
  4. I can recover AND strengthen at the same time.
  5. I can carefully scope out where I will position myself in the water on race day.
  6. I can get used to wearing my wetsuit. (I was in the water for 3 hours last Sunday – plenty of alone time with my neoprene buddy.)

And so on. These voices were much more welcoming than the ones that started my workout. These voices shared hope , these voices were goal directed, these voices helped me pass the minutes away.

Most importantly, these voices helped me to remember what Ironman is about. Race day is an exhilarating triumph – but it’s only a small part of what Ironman is all about.

For me, the training is an integral part of the experience. I enjoy the training, the challenge, the rewards, and yes, even the pain. Through training, I’ve learned quite a bit about my self, others, and life.

I’ve learned that self-imposed limits are false and fleeting.

I’ve learned that through discipline, commitment and hard work, I can push through physical, mental and emotional barriers.

I’ve learned how to be a good friend.

I’ve learned how to support those who need help.

I’ve learned that community is a precious resource.

I’ve learned that goals give meaning and substance to life.

Each of these lessons teach me to focus on what is possible, rather than wallowing in the perceived impossible.

As I ran through the resistance of the water, I searched the tree-filled mountains that loomed in the distance, snugly circling Mirror Lake. With my eyes, I traced the lines that I thought were part of the bike course. I thought of the previous day’s bike ride, and how much I’ve grown since last year. I thought of my perceived limitations, and the ways in which I tested and broke through those limits this year.

Just then, Miley Cyrus’ “The Climb” came on my Mp3 player. (Don’t judge, people. You’ll see, it’s really inspirational :)) The lyrics remind me of my journey, of the limits I’ve pushed through, of the challenges I’ve faced head on. I’ll share them with you – along with some of the ad-libbing that goes through my head when I listen to this song. [My ad-libs are in brackets.]

I can almost see it

That dream I’m dreaming [you know, like a 12 hour ironman finishing time…]

But there’s a voice inside my head saying

You’ll never reach it. [Yes, I will.]

[…]

But I gotta keep trying

Gotta keep my head held high

There’s always gonna be another mountain [that’s a definite on the Lake Placid bike course!]

I’m always gonna wanna make it move [I like to sing: I always WILL make it move.]

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose [and learn]

Ain’t about how fast I get there [okay, yes it is, Miley, but I’ll forgive this one line, because after all, it is about the climb…]

Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side

It’s the climb!

[…]

The struggles I’m facing

the chances I’m taking

Sometimes might knock me down

But no I’m not breaking [nope – it’ll take more than this, baby!]

And I, I got to be strong

Just keep pushing on

As I listened to the song, I started weeping in the refreshing waters of Mirror Lake. Again, I was overwhelmed by the awesomeness of life, the blessings of being able to participate in triathlon, of the beauty that is the human body and spirit. I was no longer aqua jogging, I was transported to the race as I visualized myself pushing on, breaking through limits, climbing mountains to get to that Olympic Oval one more time.

4 weeks to go.