Week 10

Week 10 makes me want to throw up.

It's a "taper" week, though Coach Neil is on crack if he thinks swimming 1600 meters and lifting weights felt like a vacation today.

I promised myself that I would do full-length triathlon before I turned 30 and for the past 9.5 weeks, I have devoted my heart and soul and wallet to Coach Neil's Tri and Give training program. With the Treasure Island Triathlon -- no wait, it's now called the San Francico Triathlon at Treasure Island (like the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim) -- just a few days away, I've already begun having anxiety dreams in anticipation.

I tend to have anxiety dreams the night before big events like tests and rugby tournaments. Usually the dreams force me to awaken in the wee hours of the event morning. But this time is special. I started having anxiety dreams related to the triathlon last Friday night. In the dreams I am on my way somewhere. So far: a vacation, a wedding, traithlon training (that one was pretty literal) and a play. I have forgotten or lost crucial things including my luggage, then a dress and my biking shoes. In the play dream I forgot to memorize the script and I was the lead.
It has not made for a week of good sleeping.

I watched 4 of the 5-part Accenture Escape from Alcatraz clips on YouTube today to attack the anxiety head on. I saw the freakishly athletic professional triathletes coast 1.4 miles through the freezing, choppy waters of the San Francisco Bay, some in less than 30 minutes. My swim was not quite as treacherous in my gymnasium pool last night though, last week, there was a 5.6 earthquake centered down the road from me as I swam. (Of course, I missed the whole thing and was only slightly confused by the choppy waves in the otherwise empty pool.) But that's mildly treacherous, right?

When I'm watching the professionals, I am thinking: Is this really what I'm going to do?
I have worked hard over the last 10 weeks, practiced my transitions, adjusted and replaced my gear. I have completed my workouts and pushed myself to the point of bonkign. I have sacrificed weekends to training and recovery and eating. I have been injured: pulling a calf about five weeks ago that has limited my ability to train for the run. And I'm hoping the adrenaline alone will be enough to carry me through. I'm also hoping the anxiety dreams aren't foreshadowing. Instead, I think they're an indication that I care a lot about finishing this race and seeing what I'm capable of in the last fleeting moments of my twenties.

Then, in my 30s, I can work on winning or at least acheiving freakishness.