control freak-out

I have decided to "out" myself. I have a secret to share with you. Shh! don't tell anybody else, but I am a bit of a control freak.

I justify my budgets, schedules, and routines as a way for me to create order in my chaotic life. Ask me about any day, I can tell you who has what activity, if there are any appointments, and what we are having for dinner (perhaps lunch too). I'll admit that I really like knowing what is going to happen next. I can plan for it, change the schedule, arrange care or transportation if need be weeks in advance. If I am invited to a social event and the invitation is extended casually or ambiguously, it drives me crazy. If the schedule is changed at the last minute, it will throw off the entire day. I am really not a "go with the flow" kind of gal.

Guess what? I love training plans. Shocking isn't it? Give me a plan and I will follow it religiously. The more detailed the plan, the better. Swim sets with prescribed rest intervals. Fantastic! Runs with fartleks assigned. Tell me when and I will do them. Timed rides with set sprints are my idea of heaven. This is why I hate off-season.

I finished my last triathlon of the season a few weekends ago. My 2008 training plan was followed through to its completion. Now, I am uncomfortably sitting in a place where my first race of 2009 (2009's races are already planned of course) is not until the beginning of June. My training plan for the race will not start until end of February which leaves me 5 months of being sans a training plan.

I think that I may be getting hives.

I have attempted to get relief by making my own training plans (homeopathic medicine, if it were), but the details are not there. I have assigned days to bike, swim, and run. I have determined general types of workouts that need to be done -- time trial training, long sustained rides, sprint swim sets, continuous swims, etc. However, the details are not written out. The pages in the training calendar for next week are blank.

Where is that calamine lotion?

Although it seems absurd for a control freak to admit this --

I NEED SOMEONE OR SOMETHING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!!

I have been combing the Internet looking for detailed plans that match my prescribed type of swim/bike/run workout. I have checked out triathlon books to look at their off-season plans. (Many of the books I found do not have very specific off season plans.) I have discussed the possibility of a coach with Mr. Spie, but alas it is not in the budget -- children are expensive.

Are these spots growing larger?

I have some tentative solutions to my ir-rash-tional dilemma. I will sign up for swim lessons in October and am planning on purchasing some bike training DVDs, but these salves do not provide full relief for what ails me. In order to find relief, one of two things need to happen.

1. I need to give up some control and be able to go with the flow. (This is not very likely)

or

2. I need to find and start following a plan.

Because I have not yet been able to find the correct prescription for what ails me, you may want to purchase some stock in Benadryl. It looks like it is going to be a long five months of me itchin' for my training plan to start.

it's all in the numbers

I am obsessed with numbers. As the CEO/CFO of the family, I create and attempt to adhere to many budgets -- food budgets, clothing budgets (Did you know that children actually grow out of their things? The nerve!), activity budgets, gas budgets, etc, -- Any expense that is related to the household or family, I have assigned a limiting number to it. Call it what you will, organized or control freak, everything has a number. Sometimes the numbers are met and sometimes the numbers are exceeded. Generally, the excess, within reason, does not bother me that much. UNLESS...UNLESS of course you are talking about the numbers I assign to my triathlons and triathlon training.

After each of my races, once the "final" numbers are posted, I scrutinize and compare them to previous race results, training bests, potential, and the field. I doubt that Alan Greenspan did as much analysis as I do. I even have a spreadsheet devoted to my race results that calculates my percentage in the field for total and each event. With every positive I see, (Way to go!! My bike time was 5 minutes faster than the last time I did that route) there is almost always an accompanying negative (Although I cut 5 minutes off my bike, my bike rank was X lower than my swim rank and my swim rank was X lower than my run. Gosh, I really need to step up my bike and swim. ) In theory, this can be a great way to identify weaknesses and train to your strengths. However, for me, the analysis creates a variety of debits and credits which have to be reconciled in the "triathlon training bank".

During training, quality deposits must be made. On my bike, I have created a speed limit that must be exceeded. Should I fall below my limit, I question whether or not my ride is worth a deposit. In my swimming, I get upset if I do not make my assigned intervals or if my timed long sustained swim takes longer than ones previous. I consider if my swim workout was a debit or a credit. Consciously, I know that I should just enjoy being able to swim, bike, and run and relish being alone (a rare occasion as a mother of four). I should not beat myself up because I did not meet a self-imposed numerical goal.

There is a difference between knowledge and action. Today, my numbers obsession went into action.

When the alarm went off way too early for my swim, I contemplated rearranging my training schedule so I could sleep some more. (On Sunday, I completed my last sprint race for the season and I am not recovering as rapidly as usual. It may be related to the fact that I was camping and hiking the weekend of the triathlon, but who's to say?) I talked myself into swimming and got my body and my gear ready to go. As I am walking out the room, my two year old suffered from an attack of what best can be describes as "the terrible twos". He was screaming about a pillow and water, but when offered those things, he screamed even louder. I aborted the swimming mission and focused energy on getting the 2 year old calmed down, so he would not wake up the entire house, and back asleep. Finally, he found the right pillow, received water with ICE(always a prerequisite for him -- I still have not discovered which brother or sister I need to thank), and settled down to sleep. Too late to swim and return in time for Mr. Spie to get to work, I mentally rearranged my training schedule, deciding to run after school drop off with the two year old in the jogger and swim on Saturday. Then, I bed down for another 45 more minutes of glorious sleep.

After I dropped all of the urchins at their respective schools, the two year old and I returned home to start the run. I gave him food, a toy, and strapped him in for the long haul. He seemed content and I was celebrating the day and my additional sleep. My celebration was a little presumptuous. My route, due to some road construction, is three different intersecting loops. We walked for a warm up and then were off. The start of the run was uneventful and very pleasurable. My passenger was happy. I was happy. Then the road changed direction and I was running into the wind. I was using a double jogging stroller. Have you ever used a double jogging stroller? It is a little like pushing a weighted sail into the wind. Passenger was still happy. I was working hard, but happy. All was good. The training deposit was growing at a significant rate.

At start of the second loop, passenger was done with his food and was bored. Two year old + bored =trouble. At first he was rubbing his hand against the wheel, adding resistance to the run (into the wind). Not satisfied with the entertainment value, he decided to drive his toy car on the wheel of the stroller as I ran. This was entertaining until the point where he dropped it. I had to stop, run back, and pick up the toy. Now, bored and toyless, the passenger was NOT happy. He struggled to get out of his seat restraint, writhing back and forth like a fish out of water. Passenger, finally breaking free from the chains that bound him, stood up in his seat, turned around, and looked at me triumphantly as the stroller tipped backwards causing me to suddenly stop and right the stroller to avoid a football style pile up. Passenger decides he is going to sit in the other side of the stroller, without the seat belt. This is not acceptable. Passenger is strapped into stroller, seat belts are tightened, and we repeat the Houdini escape routine a couple more times.

As this is happening, I am still arguing with myself about running xx miles - the three loops. Passenger is obviously not on board with my plan, but I am going to persevere. I had been stopping the watch for a more accurate time every time I had to stop and will not admit defeat. If I wave the white flag and walk, I would have to rearrange schedules to make up the run tomorrow -- doubling up the workouts. You see, I planned to run xx miles this week at a xx:xx pace and if stopped and walked I would not make my numbers -- my deposit will be off.

Near the end of the second loop, I began bargaining with passenger. Realizing the third loop would never happen, I was promising the world (television) and the stars (more food) to have him sit so I could at least complete the second loop. The negotiations were tough as passenger held all of the cards but he finally sat down and we continued on our way home to the sounds of "Mom, the neighborhood tour guide" dialog. (Look, there's a dog. Look at that funny mailbox. Do you see those pretty flowers? Let's count down the houses to our house.) At some point during the intense negotiations, I FORGOT TO STOP MY WATCH. Now my numbers are OFF, SKEWED, WRONG, INVALID. I had no idea how long the negotiations lasted. As I ran the last few feet to my home, I am still trying to calculate how much time was spent in negotiations. Without an accurate time, I cannot calculate my pace. I cannot correctly bank my "run deposit" in my "triathlon bank". My run has become the pocket change that you leave in the cushions of your couch only useful if you need to give a child a bribe or allowance.

I walked into the house feeling physically and fiscally poor. Although I know I worked hard, if I could not quantify the effort of my run through numbers, was it really worth the effort? Did I really make a deposit? As I sat and recovered to the sounds of Dora and Map and cereal being eaten, I decided that even though I did not earn the amount of triathlon currency I had expected, I still worked hard for the deposit I had and decided it was worth a trip to the bank. After all, for me lately, it only comes down to the numbers.

The entry in the workout calendar for today:

Run x.x miles

roads I travel

For more than 6 months I have stalked -- oops I mean read many triathlon/life related blogs on the Internet. My trip down the "dark side" started out innocently enough. I started training for triathlons as my chosen sport, not just a way to cross train for marathons, and I was searching for some motivation, support, validation, and perhaps a local training partner to accompany me on my journey. I did find motivation and support from some "friends"(blogs). However, I did not find a local training partner, perhaps a blessing for him/her, considering the title of my blog, but I digress.



Mr. Spie, tired of me relating stories about people I have never met and a little concerned over my need to follow the training "soap operas" of the blogs I read daily, hinted that I had an addicition and had often joked that the next step in my addiction of blog reading is blog writing. Not one to disappoint, here I am composing a blog.


For about a week, I have had my blog formatted-- ready to write. During those seven days and most significantly right now I have come to realize that the process of writing a blog is certainly harder than reading blogs. While it initially seems that it would be simple to put your world (thoughts and feelings included) into black and white, it truly is more complicated than that. Many of the blogs that I read are insightful, inspirational, or a way to humorously escape for a moment or two from daily life. Right now, as I am parked in front of the computer, simultaneously trying to write and ignore my children, I have realized that I am terrified by the power of the blog. I am currently doubting my ability to inspire, be insightful, or even entertain anyone other than my children. I do not have a 100% success rate with them. (See above comment about currently ignoring them).


Additionally, once you hit that orange publish post button, you are putting yourself out there for people to relate to, judge, complement, criticize, etc.... This is very hard to wrap my brain around as I vehemently dislike phoning in any take out order and rarely will use any kind of drive-thru for fear of being judged purely on my speech (or ordering ability). When given a choice between phone and face, face wins every single time. Now I am venturing in a forum that I will be judged on thoughts, feelings, and writing ability with no face to face interaction possible? What am I thinking?


My oldest daughter was recently asked to join a competition gymnastics team at her gym. We had one "no obligation" week to try on the training schedule and see how it fit with our lives and school. At the end of the week, I asked her if she liked it and and if she wanted to continue with team or go back to recreational gymnastics. She thought about it for a while and said that she really liked it, but she wanted to go back to recreational gymnastics. Mystified, I asked her why. Her answer was because it is hard. After further discussion, she decided that she would give it a try for a couple months and we would re-evaluate again at the first of the year.


I am now following in my daughter's footsteps and attempting to do something that I like, joining a blogging community that I enjoy and has given me much, that is entertwined with something that will be hard, letting down my guard and putting real self out there for all to see.


Let's hope the re-evaluation process at the first of the year goes well for my daughter and for me.