I'm not scared at all

A couple of weeks ago somebody generously congratulated me on my efforts and said, "I can't believe you're doing the Ironman--you're not even afraid or anything!"

Which left me speechless, because of course I'm terrified. I AM TERRIFIED, people. Of getting injured now, of getting sick, of not being able to go for some sad reason I can't even contemplate, of going and not finishing. I'm afraid of having perimenopausal hot flashes all night before the race, of not pooping before the race, of pooping during the race, of breaking my bike, getting kicked in the face by other swimmers, ripping my wetsuit, turning an ankle, forgetting my food, wrecking my kidneys, getting a flat tire, breaking a chain. You name it, it frightens me.

Mostly, though, I'm not scared of catastrophe; I'm just scared of being that scared. I'm afraid to be that uncomfortable for that long. I'm terrified that even while my body may be strong enough, my mind might not.

So let's just watch what happens when the mind prevails over the body:



_________

Ohbytheway: slump week is over! Recovery/regeneration week feels wonderful.
Bike: 60 mins
Run 30 mins
Packing for our Lake Placid preview this weekend. Ordering supplies for the race. Hard to believe it's only a month away. Excited, grateful, disbelieving. Terrified.