I'm still pretty anxious about the tri.  That said, I feel somewhat more prepared this year than last, which I'm hoping will mean I'll beat my previous time.  I have done two full mile swims in the pool, which takes me about 43 minutes — in contrast, that same mile took me 24 minutes in the Hudson.  Thanks, current!  I have run the actual run course, or parts of it, many times now — I know the landmarks in the park, where the hills are, and how far I really have left to go at any given time.  This week is all about tapering — small workouts, hydration, and plenty of rest.  Today I'm opting for rest, weights tomorrow, a light bike or run on Thurs, and a light swim on Friday.  That's it.  But I'm feeling well-prepared.  Even so, feel free to send a little extra luck my way!

Despite the fact that I will be completing my third triathlon in less than a week from today, I have a hard time thinking of myself as an athlete or as an athletic person.  Athletes played sports in high school, maybe even college, and they were good at them.  They do sporty things.  You look at them and say — hey, she's really athletic.  That's not me. 

As a kid, I got picked last for kickball teams.  I played a mean left bench on my soccer team.  In softball, I played outfield, with the exception of one unfortunate season when I played catcher, and spent most of my time doing cartwheels and singing to myself to stave off the boredom.  Sure, I dabbled in things like gymnastics, but it was never competitive.  I didn't do anything athletic on a consistent basis until I turned 30.  It was that birthday that motivated me to become more active in my life –  I figured that I hadn't done it up to that point, so it was high time I did, as an investment in my physical future.  So that's when I started cycling.  I rented a bike with my brother and his friend, and almost keeled over in my one loop around Central Park.  I think of that day every single time I hit the big hill on the North end of the park. 

Since then, I have cycled literally hundreds, likely thousands of miles, completed several 5k runs, one sprint triathlon, and one Olympic distance triathlon, with one more to come next week.  So why then am I still struggling with the notion that I am athletic?  Because it's not easy for me.  I'm not fast.  I'm not particularly competitive.  I don't want to win.  And it's hard.  Cycling and swimming are easier for me than running, but every time I run — every single time — it is hard.  My breathing is labored.  I am slow.  My heart races.  I want to stop.  Some part of me hurts, usually my shoulder, my knees, or sometimes something else.  Running is always hard for me, yet something inside me pushes on, because I know, at the end of it, I'll feel good, like I've accomplished something that's good for me.  Even if I take a walking break, I never allow myself more than 60 seconds. 

I also think that if I can do it, non-athlete that I am, that anyone can do it if they just try.  But that's not the case — some people don't try — won't try.  There's something in me that does try.

Maybe I am an athlete after all.  I keep pushing myself.  I want to beat my time from last year.  If I keep saying it, maybe I'll believe it.  I am an athlete — a triathlete, even!  It's time I started admitting it to myself, getting comfortable with it, and owning it.

Oh mighty Hudson,
I journeyed to your waters this morning
And gazed upon you from above,
Noticing your murkiness
And an Oreo cookie package
Floating where I will be
Next Sunday
But mercifully, no signs of jellyfish.

The NYC Tri is a mere 10 days away (7/26!  Come watch!) and the nerves are starting to kick in.  By Sunday, I'll have completed one more long bike, long swim, and long run, then I'm pretty much done except for some minor workouts just to keep things moving.  I'm feeling pretty good about my training and overall readiness generally, but would still prefer to swim in the Hudson by myself rather than with a few hundred other women in my age group.  A girl can dream . . .

After last night's 1 mile swim, I came home and made a small mushroom pizza for dinner and went to bed relatively early.  At 7 a.m. I started my brick workout — 1/2 mile run, 19 mile bike, 6 mile run.  Between that and the ride to/from I tacked on a few more bike miles and burned well over 1400 calories according to my heart rate monitor.  Starting to get used to those big hills at the north side of the park — maybe I'll do them one more time before the race, but I'm feeling pretty good.  Plus, it turns out that a week cycling in Bordeaux on a heavy bike really strengthened my legs!!  I can't remember the last time I accomplished this much before 10:30 a.m.  Probably last summer around this time . . .