I like to think that I can handle stress. I also like to think that I can handle stress well. While I suppose in certain situations I can, this past weekend proved that is not the case in all circumstances.
My workout schedule for this past Saturday was as follows:
Brick:
1 hour continuous swim
4.5 hour bike on a hilly course w/10 minute tempos
15 minute run
I switched things up just a bit and did my swim later, but the rest of the workout was done in order. My husband and I started with a group out in Trussville and meandered our way through some hilly neighborhoods out to highway 75. This took us out to Oneonta, AL and a very large mountain. We hit the climb about two hours into our ride. The road started on a casual grade and became steeper the longer we went. My mph went from the teens to the single digits. My hands got super sweaty threatening to slide off my handlebars. I had to stand to finish the climb or risk falling over if I stayed seated. When I finally reached the top, I think this was a good 10 minute climb, it took me quite a while to get my legs back under me.
Eventually I did and proceeded with ride. We were able to stop at a gas station and buy some fluids before making the return trip in up highway 75. We were trucking right along until we reached Faucett Road. Turning left to head back to Trussville the road made had a short, steep climb and I felt my legs start to shake. I tried to keep going even though I felt my pace/cadence slow significantly. Just 30 minutes till home!
And then it happened. We were in those terrible neighborhoods and I had another short, steep climb in front of me. My breath started to come in short, shallow heaves and when I reached the top I gasped to Herchel that I had to stop. I stopped. I heaved. I had tears well in my eyes. I’m 90% positive I started babbling that I couldn’t do this and that I was never going to be able to complete this Ironman because I couldn’t even ride for four hours before everything started falling apart. I’m also 100% positive that I ignored my husbands rational thinking because I was too consumed with my pity party on the side of the road.
He eventually talked me in to continuing the ride. The next climb we reached I whimpered all the way to the top. At some point I did gain some of my composure back and was able to finish the ride with a small bit of dignity. I think.
Amazingly enough when we got back I laced up my running shoes and on shaky legs was able to get my run in. And it was a much faster pace than I had anticipated after my freak out. We treated ourselves with Coke Icee’s from the gas station. Man it tasted good!
Later that afternoon I was also able to swim and felt great.
I can’t guarantee that I won’t have another panic attack, but I will try my best to think a bit more rationally than I did this past weekend. 🙂
~Sarah
I Tri Training 