Trial of Miles

We have landed in August, which means only one thing to a Louisville triathlete... we are in the Ironman homestretch. The long hours in the saddle, pounding the pavement and splashing about are being stored in the bank, ready for withdrawal on the 30th. It's right around the corner, 4 weeks away.

Nervous tension is in the air. This Saturday the course was filled with not just recreational riders, there were Zipp wheels, aero helmets, 'on your left's, power meters... you name it. The dress rehearsals have begun!

Saturday morning greeted me with heavy legs. I was crabby and had ridden this route the week before. I silently sulked through the first hour, going into autopilot at the sound of spinning wheels.

The hills jolted me awake and back to life. The windy decent down 1694 suddenly forced my senses on red alert, which is when I realized 'This is it, we're in the homestretch, put your heart into this workout and make it count, because this is your last chance to iron out the kinks, to put long miles in the bank... we're in the Homestretch!'

It hit me like a ton of bricks. No one was making me ride, and it's a convenient excuse to be 'tired, fatigued, worn out from yesterdays run'. You name it, I heard it (hell I was the one coming up with the best of them!). But then, as I'm out of the saddle gasping for air, cursing my 11-23 cassette and clawing my way up to the boys with 200 horsepower quads, I realized that I'm not doing this for anyone else but me. I'm the only one who will be disappointed at a sad effort, or thrilled to be totally spent after a hard effort, either way it was solely up to me. I brought to life my goals for this race and kept them at the front of my thoughts. I determine the outcome. It's the Trial of Miles, the mental battle, the elusive easy way out.

I finally finished the day, eight hours later, totally spent, with a smile on my face. There is no easy way out. Train on.