For Bolder [or] and then it Clicked

So, Bolder wanted to know about my perceived rate of exersion during the 5K, and normally I would briefly mention such requests and then ignore them...

(cause I too can play the 'bad sport' game)

But for some reason, the question got me thinking...

While I was running, I wanted to stop. Immediately. I kept telling myself to just start walking because this running thing is a whole bunch of crap and it's terribly overrated and why does anyone try to run as fast as they can for 3.1m anyway? It's weird.

So, perhaps my perceived exertion was relatively high (I refrain from this kind of thinking when training)...but here's the thing...my heart rate wasn't that high. It took me about 40 seconds to recover after the race. I remember previous races where I was in serious puking danger for several minutes afterwards and even started dialing 911 on my cell phone in fear that I was dying.

So maybe I could have pushed more? I don't know. And I guess that is exactly what intrigues me. How do we know where the limit is? I don't want to end up in an abulance again, but I don't want to be a wimp either. And, how do we figure out where that line is while racing?

According to Liz, it's all a head game...and to a certain extent, I believe her...but on the other hand, we do have physical limits, whether or not we want to believe that...and so how do you go about finding that limit? Because we have to find it...the goal is to find it, and then slowly push it back until we don't know where it is again...and then find it again and repeat the cycle.

Here's the bad simile of the year: It's like climbing stairs that are REALLY far apart. You step up one, and you're closer to the top, but you can no longer see where the next stair is...so you have to just carefully walk along your present level so that you don't trip on that next step...and so that when you do get there, you're ready to pick up your feet and climb.

While riding my bike yesterday (yes, on my trainer--it's still coldcoldcold out), I listened to Wil and Kahuna's Podcast No. 5. Now, all the podcasts have been interesting and informative and a lot of fun to listen to. But, something in this last one really 'clicked' with me. They were talking about being able to just have fun with this whole triathlon thing, and how it can be really hard for pro athletes because they define themselves by their racing results.

And all of a sudden my legs stopped turning and I started to laugh. I finally realized 'Why I Tri'. (I hadn't been able to come up with a good, true answer and it's been bugging me...if I don't know why I do it, then what's the point?)

And so, my big revelation: It's really the same thing as playing the flute, just a different discipline. For the past year and a half I've been doing triathlons and I've been so proud of myself for finding something completely, utterly different from music with which to involve myself. And all this time, I've been repeating myself. At first I was weirded out and numbly disappointed, but my legs slowly started to move again and I realized: It's okay. Now I know. This is who I am.

An explaination: With music, you have to be so unbelievably careful that you're not defining yourself by which summer festivals you get into, how you do at auditions, which teachers are willing to teach you, etc etc etc.

This sounds obvious.

It's remarkably easy to intellectually tell yourself that you're the same player no matter what your audition results are and that different audition committees can hear the same player in a completely differing light and there is so much political nepotism crap out there and you are who you are no matter what.

But. When you've been working for months on the same damn music and you finally get to the time and place where you're supposed to put it all out on that line, and then something crappy happens and one note doesn't come out and then your brain freaks and all of a sudden a million notes don't come out and then it's over and you screwed up and there's nothing you can do about it and this never happened in the practice room...EVER...well...it's hard to not beat yourself up and not give into the frustration of how do you prepare for what has never happened? It's hard to believe that you are that same player no matter what.

And how about the opposite? When everything is perfect and you love the way you sound and how could anyone not love it too? And then they don't, and you still don't get in, you still don't advance to the next round? That feels pretty damn shitty too. If your best isn't good enough, will anything ever be good enough?

But that ideal, that absolute necessity of being able to believe in yourself no matter what happens out there...and being able to just keep plugging away and keep working at it and dammit follow your schedule every day, even if everything else in the world seems wrong...that's what makes it all work out in the long run...and honestly? That's what makes it fun.