#reillysmith

Vineman 70.3 2015

It’s nice to have a little room from a race before trying to pull some perspective. Been busy. Had I written this a day after, it would have been long, and it would have been covered in rattlesnakes and moonshine. This is different.

I was confident going into the race. I was even moving pretty well for a while, but there was definitely a spot in the bike where I knew the day would be a huge struggle. I fought really, really damn hard to come in with a 2:18, which was a bit below expectation. Run even felt slick for a few miles and then absolutely did not. I thought about a lot of things in the struggle - like how I was going to correct myself, and why it was happening. I thought about the past versions of myself that had raced and what was going on in their lives and minds for a bit. I thought about the idea of “Needing to hurt.” Like...when I was younger by 1-4 years, so not even that long ago, I needed to hurt in training because it was a requirement to my functionality as a human being. This year, when I’ve needed to hurt in training, it was to stand a chance at performing well. And...that’s never been the way I’ve done things. Less natural motives, I suppose. Less ingrained.

People change. Their situations change. Their makeup changes. I think mine has changed since Kona last year, and maybe even before. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. And it’s not necessarily something that should slow me down, even if it has lately. I’m certainly not the first to fall into a bit of a hole. But I’m also inspired to be an athlete who makes it back out. 

Maturity + Oceanside 70.3

Lately it feels like I’ve gotten my life pregnant in the back of a Camaro. There’s stuff going on. It’s not like things have ever been bare, but this feels different. Mainly, I’m opening a business. Not just any business. It’s a training house designed to make people better at doing the things I talk about here. CryBabyHouse. 

I mention pregnancy because it’s appropriate (not literally, though), because suddenly, I feel a responsibility to do things...responsibly. At some point, I’ll be guiding people up to and through their events, and I take that very seriously. When people put their trust in you, you want to do good by that. And I want to be good at anything I do, damn good, from basket-weaving to spear-fishing to world-beating. Anyway, the new child in my life belly is forcing me to look at the puzzle of training from much different angles than I have in the past. In moments of personal reflection, I lead myself to believe there’s new maturity happening under the hood of me. I understand maturity is not meant to be self-appointed, but that’s how I roll.

When I got back from Auckland and stood with Gerry on the deck, he was tough on me, and suggested I call Siri Lindley so she could take a run at my run. Auckland was a shitty performance. I still think I was better prepared than my outcome, but the fact remains - my run is weak, the big boys are crushing me, and something needs to change. Siri was great. Basically, we decided I was living in the gray zone, and that I had no idea how to ACTUALLY stay just aerobic or go easy. She thought I needed a super run-focus for 8 weeks by running HARD twice a week while still keeping a brick, long, and shake on the schedule. I’ve done things in this build I’ve never done before. I’ve been using HR to build runs, and to sustain and chase max on speed days, and to run EASY. One of the last things she said to me went something like, “The most important thing I can tell you - if you’re running and feel something in your leg, STOP. DO NOT push through. Take care of it. Being smart could mean the difference between 3 days off of running and 3 weeks.” 

On Tuesday this week, I went in to hit the treadmill for a big handful of 3 minute hard efforts. I’ve been doing similar workouts for weeks now, so when I was at 5:42 pace, and about 8 beats slower than I had been a few weeks ago when I was a touch slower pace, I knew what I’d been doing was working and that I was about to have a shining run. I was rolling, on about the 3rd effort when I felt a small tweak in the back of my right calf/achilles. I was well beyond the warm-up, running like a GD hero in my mind, all adrenaline, convinced I was about to have a breakthrough as my 2-3 year ago mind tried to kick in - “FINISH! At least push until you KNOW FOR SURE it’s fucked. THEN you can stop.” I stopped right there. Like I was told. Key here - I LISTENED to the most important thing a very smart and experienced person had told me. Then, I adjusted on the fly. A shake out swim that was supposed to follow became a replacement set of 3 minute hard efforts in the pool because I didn’t spend it on the run. I went home and Voo-Doo flossed the hell out of my leg above and below the hot spot (calf/achilles). And I filled my days with sets of eccentric calf raises. And I wasn’t testing it. So in my head, I was borrowing the expertise of Siri Lindley, Kelly Starrett, my PT Lisa Haas, and my own growing blend to combat a problem that was making me wonder whether I would be able to run much more before Oceanside, which is 15 days from today. Never the ideal headspace after what feels like a very successful lead-in. But that’s how it sometimes goes.

Today, I went out for my Friday run. Fingers crossed, all that stuff. It was dodgy, and I was worried, and felt some problems very early into it. The run was a 13 mile build. Each lap that went by, things felt a little better. And I let a little bit of the fear go. And I let in a bit of appreciation for the ability to be running after everything I’ve been thinking about for the last few days. After a cool down and 14 miles, the run was in the bag. There were some moments out there, but none that needed me to stop. After 3 miles, I considered walking away without a bust and pressed it to 6, to 9, to 12. And that worked out. I’m taking care of it hard until the next hard day comes...but there aren’t that many left before race day.