Pollo del mar.

Didn’t get into bed until midnight last night, which means five hours of sleep before the spine tingling terror of the last ocean swim before my half ironman in four days.Four days! I’m in total freakout mode, which is NOT helped by having to scale down all my exercise as part of the taper. In theory I should be resting more in prep for the big energy output needed. But not working out means I have all this energy that’s going into obsessing about not being prepared. Lovely, isn’t it?

“You’re gonna do great!” they all say. HOW DO THEY KNOW!? They say it and then they smile, forgetting that weeks or months ago They said, “seventy point three miles? You’re insane. Please drive through.”

Thankfully I slept like a complete rock, waking one freakin’ minute before the alarm at 5:30am after a dream about my fixing my father’s computer. I’m going to violate a person rule and talk about dreams here for a moment. Personally, I hate hearing people talk about their dreams. They only have any meaning to the person who dreamed them, it’s often reconstructed and filtered through personal narrative in the recollection thus changing the content in the telling, and few things are as agonizingly boring as listening to someone talk about a fantasy that never happened and only enlightens them. That said, if I’m dreaming about fixing my father’s computer it means I’m stressed out and having stress dreams about futile exercises.

And yet even with that weighing on my mind I pulled my shit together and made it to the ocean swim this morning. I’m very glad I did. The waves were low, the swell was pleasant and forgiving, and the damn orange buoy stayed in sight the whole time! I was fourth in the water (got dusted FAST by the Triathletix half-fish guys) but my heart rate stayed below hummingbird. Second loop felt even better, and by the third loop I was actually able to bilateral breathe (both sides, every 3rd stroke {usually in the ocean I breathe on my right every other stroke causing more drag}) and maintain a straight course towards shore. I held off trudging back to the beach for a few minutes, floating in the surf, entangled in seaweed. I thought to myself that the next time I’d be in the water would be in my practice swim in Boise, the day before the race. I turned over in the water and caught a small wave bump back to shore feeling good.

Shortly afterwards, showering off, someone complimented my swim and said that she had drafted me in the water. I apologized for slowing her down, to which she said the pace was fine for her. She said this to me! This wasn’t me giving advice on things I understood in theory or had read about, this was me not even realizing someone was behind me and me not completely sucking! Leading, even! Reminding me once again that leading is not telling people how to do stuff, it’s unconsciously modeling behavior. The same way I dive in after the Triathletix gill-equipped extras from Waterworld someone is now behind me. Watching. Trying not to get kicked in the face.

So here’s to not sucking. Maybe even succeeding. And keeping my goggles on the whole swim.

Notes: 3 buoy loops, something less than an hour (didn’t look at the watch).


2 responses to “Pollo del mar.

  1. Congrats. Success can sneak up on you like that.

    Also, one sentence is not “talking about” a dream. Three LiveJournal posts – THAT is “talking about” a dream. You are absolved.

  2. Blame ME for your dreams? My computer is fine. Sleep like a baby, zindele.

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