I've conveniently used my attorney as an excuse why I haven't been writing since my accident this past December. Basically, I'm not supposed to comment on "that" until all the paperwork is complete. And there's a lot of "that" to talk about, let me assure you! Finally though, I've found something worth writing about that doesn't directly involve "that."
So instead, I'm going to write about this.
I was with my coach this morning for only my second trail run since "that" occurred. We were talking about my comeback race, the first race of 2013 for me, Boise 70.3. Up until our conversation, I had every intention of unleashing THIS on the race course.
As you can imagine, following "that," I have stored up a fair amount of adrenaline, frustration and angst. I was planning to bottle it until June 8 -- my birthday conveniently enough -- and unleash holy hell on that race course. But my coach convinced me otherwise. Now, I'm going to try a more measured approach. He counseled that I have a long season in front of me still -- June Lake, Boulder 70.3, Ironman Lake Tahoe AND Ironman Arizona loom. It would be wiser to show some restraint at Boise, make sure my knee can handle the pounding that will result from running on concrete (which I haven't tried since "that" happened!).
With some reluctance, I'm now planning to truly emphasize the comeback part of comeback race. That means holding back on the run somewhat, at least for the first half of the course. The risk we're trying to avoid, of course, is re-injuring the knee and undoing all the progress I've made since March. It was at that time I attended a Wildflower Training Camp with my teammates and officially began rounding back into shape after a rather melancholy 2.5 month hiatus from significant training.
The last thing I want to do is start over in my rehab. So, I'm now looking at Boise this way:
Go Fast at Ironman Lake Tahoe > Go Fast at Ironman Boise 70.3.
This is going to be extremely difficult for someone as competitive as me. I'm simply not wired to leave speed out on the course. I want to finish every race knowing there's NOTHING left in my body that I could have given to improve my performance. But that day will have to wait.
In other words, I need to save my anger for another day. And that day will have to be September 22.
I'll need to remind myself of this repeatedly as I'm being passed on the run. I can't promise I won't resemble Jerry Stiller's "Seinfeld" character by mile 10:
Doing the smart thing sucks sometimes. Oh well, more anger to channel into "that" bottle for another day.