Two months from right now, I'll be eating my Last Supper before Ironman. Wondering about the Big Day that will come in those next 12 hours. I've been thinking about and waiting for this since my first workout more than 10 months ago. It's now only 60 days away.
That still seems like a long time, but when I break it up with five weeks of peak training and three weeks of tapering, it's really almost here. It still hasn't really hit me though. Emotionally, I feel like I'm in an ocean with my feet still barely touching the sand. I can see the incoming swell in the distance but it hasn't yet lifted me off my feet. The power of the wave hasn't formulated. But the energy, the anticipation, it's definitely there.
Today was more or less about recovery. I ran for an hour this morning on what appeared to be the first day of school in my neighborhood's elementary school. Cars jammed the streets on Dickens, causing me to be just that much more aware of my surroundings. It's not like I was running fast though, as my legs were a little sluggish and my heart rate was beating as slow as I can remember in a run. It took me almost through the first 40 minutes to creep into zone 3.
I just finished a yoga workout before returning into the office. The calves are tight and my lower back is as well. But there's no time to rest further. Ironman training beckons. Tomorrow is another two-hour-plus training day, filled with 80 minutes on the bike and 60 minutes in the pool in the evening. All en route to a 19.5-hour training week.
The wave is picking up steam. The water is rising above my chest. I'm a little nervous, but not panicking.
Even though I haven't, I feel like I've been in this exact spot in the ocean before. More than 2,000 miles logged on the Garmin and 185 hours confirm that sentiment.
I'm ready for the wave.
60 days and counting.