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The Injury

So it's been a while since my last post. My tibial micro-fractures have been quite the pain, literally and figuratively. Being injured is like putting a road block in the middle of the freeway; like dumping a bucket of water on a burning candle. These two things--the freeway and the candle--were in motion and making progress. Yet, just like that they were brought to a halt and extinguished.

Athletes are oriented towards some goal, whether it be a new race, a high ranking, or a new record. Injuries put an unexpected detour in that pursuit. After hours of planning and preparing a rigorous schedule dedicated to obtaining their desired goal, suddenly a new obstacle appears. One would hope their preparation would prevent injuries, but sometimes these injuries can't be predicted by even the best coaches and trainers. They may be the result of an accident or misfortune. The fact is, life happens. Then there are the injuries that creep into existence. They start with a hint of pain, maybe a wince or flinch reveals the injury. At this point, athletes have two choices.

1. They can continue their rigorous workout schedule hoping "it was nothing."
2. They can immediately modify their training schedule to prevent anymore damage. 

The logical reason would be to modify their workout, rest a little more and recover, right? Yet so many athletes choose to ignore the pain. Why would they risk causing more damage? Pride, fear, and sheer habits can lead athletes to ignore the pain.

Pride prevents an athlete from resting because they see pain as a weakness. They push their bodies as hard and as long as possible believing that more is better. They overlook what rest can do for their body.

The fearful worry the injury will inhibit progress and discount all their hard work thus far. To stop training for any amount of time would be heartbreaking.

Dedicated athletes have established habits. These habits include mindsets. They've heard numerous times from inspirational quotes and coaches to "push through the wall." Athletes become accustomed to pain as they train their body to above and beyond. Sometimes athletes misunderstand certain types of pain as "the wall." They don't recognize that if they push through this wall they risk having it crumble on them instead of it being a marker of their success.

The dedicated athlete is committed to their sport. This commitment requires balance. Many athletes come to know their sport intimately but overlook the relationship with their own body. They begin to compare themselves to to others and their workouts instead of discovering what is best for their own body. Not only does the meet or game become a competition, but the competition begins in practice. The trick is learning what schedule works best for each athlete's body. Everyone is different inferring that each body requires a different approach to training. Experienced athletes learn the importance of balancing workouts, rest, nutrition, and recovery days rather than constantly trying to outdo their rival. They balance their relationship with the sport and their body.

These past two weeks I've been in a boot. The boot has served as a reminder of how I need to listen to my body. Tibial micro-fractures are a classic example of overuse. If I had rested my shin splints early on I wouldn't be confined to crutches and a boot. This injury is probably a result of a combination of pride, fear, and habits. I'd become obsessed with my goal of becoming a triathlete that I overlooked the process of getting there. I wanted the result but didn't appreciate the rest, recovery, and the law of progressive overload. When I can take this boot off in a week I am determined to gradually build up my running intensity and volume. I want to do all that I can to avoid another injury.

Let the Race Begin

My desire to get back into the pool turned into a much bigger aspiration when I met a few members of the Brigham Young Triathlon Club at the pool one morning. It didn't take much convincing on their part to get me signed up. I competed in two triathlons a couple years ago and already loved the sport. I would still have to wake up at 5:48 a.m. to train with them at 6:00 a.m., but I'm more motivated when I have a team. However, my early morning workouts no longer consists of just swimming laps. To be a triathlete, I also need to bike and run. My experience with swimming gives me an advantage in the water, but I am definitely a fish-out-of-water when it comes to the biking and running workouts! 

The two triathlons I completed in 2010 and 2011 were Sprint distance, which fortunately didn't require much biking and running. Sprint is the shortest distance of the four triathlon competitions:

1. Sprint: consists of a 0.47 mile swim, 12 mile bike ride, and a 3.1 mile run.
2. Intermediate (or Olympic distance): consists of a 0.93 mile swim, 25 mile bike ride, and a 6.2 mile run.
3. Long (also known as a Half Ironman): consists of a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and a 13.1 mile run.
4. Ultra (or the Ironman): consists of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, and a 26.2 mile run.

The BYU Triathlon Club is currently training for an Olympic distance race in Arizona on March 23.This will be the longest race I've ever completed. Despite the daunting 25 mile bike ride and 6 mile run, the Ironman distance becomes  enticing the more I train for the Olympic distance triathlon. I am confident in my ability to complete the 2.4 mile swim, and, I am confident that with the right amount of training, I can complete an Ironman. Granted, this hefty goal will take some time. In order to properly prepare my body for the stress that comes with completing an Ironman I am giving myself a year. Within that year I plan to:

• Compete in 4 Olympic distance triathlons.
• Run a Half Marathon in Summer of 2013.
• Run a Marathon in the Fall of 2013.
• Compete in a Half Ironman in the Spring of 2014.
• Compete in an Ironman in the Summer of 2014.

Sadly, I already strained my body. Running with the Triathlon Club proved to be too much for my legs. Being a swimmer for 12 years minimized the amount of impact my body was exposed to. I kept running through the pain in my legs that I naively diagnosed as shin splints back in November. However, the doctor's educated diagnosis turned out to be micro-fractures on my right tibia. This means walking with crutches and no weight bearing activities for at least two weeks! Fortunately, that doesn't rule out swimming or calisthenics. I've already made a workout schedule that will hopefully keep me somewhat in shape as I hobble around with my boot. I am determined not to let this injury keep me from pursuing my dream to complete an Ironman in 2014. 

While my exposure to triathlons is still minimal, I greatly admire triathletes with the little knowledge I do have. Triathlons are in a league of their own. They  require mental endurance beyond any other sport because technically they are a combination of three sports: swimming, biking, and running. Triathletes have to prepare their mind and body for the amount of stress that comes with the three stages. This requires an unusual amount of training. Triathletes alternate training in the pool, on the bike, and around the track. A recognized triathlete isn't just a runner, or a biker, or a swimmer; they become all three.

Even though a triathlon is composed of three stages, that doesn't mean a triathlete gets a break at the exchanges between the swim, bike, and run. The race must go on. A triathlon is usually set up around a single transition area where  competitors leave their gear for the bike and run. The race continues here just as it does in the water and on the road. Wetsuits are ripped off and shoes are slipped on. Experienced triathletes learn to put their shoes on after mounting their bike in order to shave a few seconds off their transition time. Whatever the distance, the goal is to be out of the transition area as quick as possible.

Gear can also play an essential part of the race. Unlike typical swimmers, triathletes wear wetsuits. These wetsuits help with buoyancy allowing the competitor to spare energy for the bike and run. As for the bike, triathletes purchase various accessories to optimize their ride. Aerobars and helmets contribute to an aerodynamic position on the bike. Components and clip-on shoes maximize each cycle while wheels reduce resistance and weight. Bikes are constructed out of carbon for the light, yet strong frame. Whatever level a triathlete is competing at, there is a selection of accessories they can choose from to equip their bike. When it comes to the run, shoes are crucial. Not only do triathletes want supportive and lightweight shoes, but they also want shoes they can slip on fast. Some shoes come with special shoelaces that tighten with a tug, others don't even have shoelaces. Throughout all three stages, competitors wear trisuits. These trisuits consist of biking shorts and a tank top. However, competitors are welcome to change out of a swimsuit into shorts and a T-shirt depending on the amount of time they want to spend in the transition area. The great thing about triathlons is, despite all the gear that is typically associated with the race, anyone can race with a basic swimsuit, bike, and tennis shoes.

I don't have the best bike, or special wetsuit and shoes, but I'm counting on my training to get me through my Ironman. It can take years to build up the physical stamina required to complete such a lengthy race. Hopefully my years as a swimmer have given me a proper foundation to start training on. Competitors have been known to become delirious and sick towards the end of an Ironman, yet their mental drive pushes their exhausted bodies across the finish line. Despite the physical demand, I am excited by the challenge an Ironman brings. Although I won't be registered for the Ironman until 2014, the race starts today for me. Let the training begin.

Back in Business

After my ice climbing adventure, I returned to my swimming mission with a little more conviction. My experience with the cold in Ouray made the short walk to the pool in Provo seem bearable. When I was actually climbing in Box Canyon I wasn't aware of the cold, but the rest of the time I was frozen in place as I belayed. My fingers were curled around the rope, my neck was tilted back wtih my gaze fixed upon the climber, and my feet were rooted to the ground. I tried to wiggle my appendages or hop up and down to keep the blood flowing, but it was a lost cause. Even if I did get the blood to flow, the stinging pain that came with the warmth reverted me back to beam-pole-position. I surrendered to the cold.

Although Provo has been just as cold as Ouray this past week, the ten minute walk to the pool was menial compared to the four consecutive hours I spent in Box Canyon. And, I'd be briskly walking during those chilly ten minutes. My appendages wouldn't even have time to succumb to the cold and go numb.

The day past, and before I knew it I was setting the alarm on my cellphone to 5:38 a.m. once again. I had two ideas to trick my body into getting out of bed in the morning. 

• Idea #1: Set my cellphone out of reach. 

This was an old trick I used when I swam in high school. I would place my phone on my dresser which forced me to jump out of bed before I realized what I was doing. I could've just crawled back into bed, but I never did. There was no point when I was already committed to going to the pool and out of bed. I hoped this method would work once again. This time I placed my cellphone on top of my clothes hamper at the foot of my bed.

• Idea #2: Preheat the clothes that I'll be walking to the pool in by sleeping in them. 

My apartment is apparently the same temperature as the outdoors and keeps everything cold. My roommate and I have woken up to ice lining our bedroom window on several occasions. Sleeping in extra clothes will allow me to stay warm and not have to put on chilly clothes in the morning. After debating whether I should sleep in my swim suit as well, I came to the conclusion that was a little excessive. I could just change into my swim suit once I made it to the pool. Two pairs of sweats, two pairs of socks, a T-shirt, a hoodie and gloves would be enough to keep me warm when I left the comfort of my covers. 

. . .

5:38

"Luau! If you're hungry for hunk of fat and juicy meat,

Eat my buddie Pumbaa here cuz he is a treat-"

My hands frantically searched for my cellphone on the desk next to me with no avail. I looked around for the little light shinning from the cellphone screen and remembered I had placed it on my clothes hamper. I peaked over my covers and sure enough, there it was glowing and singing The Lion King. Next thing I knew, the covers were off and I was standing over the hamper as my thumbs  scrambled to silence Pumbaa and Timon.

Silence. I glanced around my room letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. My roommate rolled over as she dozed back into sleep. There was a slight chill in the air, but my clothes kept me warm. My ideas succeeded. I was out of bed! I smiled to myself as I picked up my TYR swim bag and slipped out my bedroom door.

Yoplait yogurt or a banana have been my pre-workout snack for years now. They're not too heavy and they give me enough sustenance to swim without getting sick. I've tried those pre-workout protein shakes, but I can't stomach them when I swim. When my workouts start getting longer and more intense I'll use Gu Energy Gel during practices but fruit, yogurt and water work for now. I gobbled down a Yoplait Light Red Raspberry, put on my boots, and squeezed into my coat (it fit a little tighter with all the layers on underneath).

Despite the chilly walk, I was thrilled to be at the pool. Some people claim they aren't athletic, but I think they just haven't found their sport yet. They just need to find what excites them. For me, it's swimming. Every time I swim my senses go through a rush. The smell of the chlorine, the sight of the blue water, the feeling of the water enveloping my body, the sound of the echoing pool deck, and the taste of the challenge all contribute to my passion for swimming. Getting back into swimming wasn't going to be easy, but I was loving the journey. The cold was the first obstacle I encountered, but it didn't stop me.

The next obstacle came when I started swimming laps. My freestyle didn't quite feel right...and I wasn't moving as easily or as quickly as I use to. I remembered the technique my coaches had drilled into me over the years, but apparently I had lost some muscle memory since. It was difficult realizing how much slower I had gotten during the past 18 months, but I needed to start somewhere. I quickly formulated a drill series and got right to work.

4200 yards and 90 minutes later I realized that my body didn't have the endurance it use to either. I heaved myself out of the water and felt tension in the muscles I hadn't used for a very long time. I was going to be sore. The thought excited me. Being sore always meant I had survived a difficult practice. Even though I had a lot of improvements to make, I was back in business.

The Ice Box

My mission to start swimming again was put on hold when the weekend came. Instead of braving the brief, brisk walk to the BYU pool, I had to face the bitter cold for hours at the bottom of Box Canyon in Ouray, Colorado. Now, walking to the pool doesn't seem so bad after withstanding the cold that came from ice climbing in single-digit-degree-weather! Ice climbing isn't my typical outdoor activity of choice, but I wasn't going to bypass an invitation.

Although I wouldn't consider myself an avid rock climber, I am quite comfortable with heights. My outdoor experience began with family camping trips that often involved forgetting can openers, being drenched by rain, and 3-mile hikes that turned into 6-milers. The memories forged during those trips are priceless. Then, when I was 14 I joined a Boy Scouts of America Venturing Crew. The adventures that came with the Venturing Crew far surpassed my outdoor expertise that I had acquired with my family. Not only did we go on the typical scouting backpacking trips, but we also took up kayaking, rock climbing, ascending, rappelling, and even had the chance to go spelunking up Provo Canyon. Two of my older sisters also showed an interest in these outdoor adventures at the same time and soon the three of us were out traversing the slot canyons of Southern Utah on our own. Now, we have our own gear specifically for canyoneering.                             

I've descended numerous cliffs of varying heights and feel quite comfortable over the edge. Although I'm more familiar with rappelling down a cliff rather than scaling it, much of the canyoneering and climbing gear is similar which allows me to do both on occasion. To a girl who has spent so much time defying gravity, ice climbing didn't seem too intimidating...except for the part about the ice.

Climbing a structure that depends on so many fluctuating factors, such as temperature, moisture, and exposure to sunlight, doesn't seem like a good idea. Rock is much sturdier. Even sandstone, which breaks occasionally under stress, doesn't weaken after prolonged exposure to sunlight and heat. Fortunately, despite the numb toes and fingers that accompanied it, Box Canyon was much like an ice box with the low temperatures and lack of sunlight. To an inexperienced ice climber, it didn't seem like you could ask for any better conditions to climb in.

Crampons and picks

My next reservation came when I realized what gear we'd be using to climb. Although I still had my trusty, pink, CAMP harness, I would also have to rely on two ice picks and a pair of crampons. The ice picks looked like small versions of the grim reaper's scythe and the crampons looked like the teeth of a great white shark. In summary, I felt like the monster in the next horror film. Running with scissors is dangerous so climbing with sharp objects also seemed like a hazard to me. However, they were my only chances of scaling the white sheet of ice before me and I wasn't about to back down from a challenge.

When my older sister, Rachel, invited me to tag along, I didn't know what to expect. I had never heard of Ouray and never even looked into ice climbing. However, the whole experience was captivating. Ouray is a quaint little town in the southwest corner of Colorado. With it's mountainous scenery, it is an ideal place for a outdoor enthusiast like myself. Each year the town has an ice climbing festival that attracts hundreds of other enthusiasts to either compete or simply experience ice climbing. Climbing is free and companies like Black Diamond and Scarpa allow climbers to demo their gear for the day. The whole atmosphere was amazing! Despite the cold, the park was hustling with excitement as competitors scaled the walls and beginners chipped away at their first climb. Fortunately, for beginners like me, each climb has the ability to be top-roped as opposed to lead climbing.

• Top-ropping: the rope is anchored to trees or bolts at the top of a climb allowing climbers to always have protection from above. This is normally the setup at indoor climbing gyms.
• Lead climbing: the rope is anchored to bolts that climbers screw in as they ascend. This requires the climber to go above their last anchor. Falls are typically more dangerous on a lead climb because climbers fall a greater distance and swing. 

Top-roping is great for beginners like me. I felt secure with my anchor above me and began scrambling up the wall. Surprisingly, only about a centimeter of the blade on the pick or crampons needs to be anchored in the ice to support me. This concept made me wary. I kept hitting the ice over and over again hoping the entire blade would go in. This, however, was not a good idea. Not only did it tire me out as I pounded the ice over and over again, but occasionally I couldn't get my blade back out! I'd sit there tugging and wiggling the pick until it popped out. By the time I completed a 50-foot climb, my forearms and calves were burning.

My fingertips, however, were completely numb. In order to ensure the picks stay anchored in the ice, climbers need to keep them anchored above their head. If a climber's center of gravity goes above a pick, they risk having the pick slip out of the pocket because there is little weight securing it. This created two problems for me. First of all, my arms were constantly above my head reducing the amount of blood flow in my hands. I learned to pause occasionally as I climbed in order to shake out my arms and keep the blood pumping into my fingertips. Otherwise, they burned painfully when the climb was over and the blood reached them once again. Secondly, if I broke the ice with my pick, chunks fell onto my face. Due to my insistence on anchoring the entire blade in the ice, I would often break the ice (apparently hitting the ice repeatedly actually weakens it and reduces the chances of securing your pick). Luckily, I wore sunglasses that protected my eyes, but my lips weren't as fortunate. One chunk managed to hit me square in the mouth, cutting my lip and gums. The air was so cold though that it prevented my lip from swelling too much.

My sister, Rachel, and I

Overall, the trip was a success. The cold, the sharp objects, the breaking ice, and all my other concerns didn't materialize. I hope to one day buy the gear for ice climbing, but until that day I will stick with good ol' rock climbing.

Step One.

Turns out getting out of bed early and waking up early are two completely separate issues.

The BYU pool is only open to students from 6 to 8 am and 7 to 9 pm. I decided to swim in the mornings before class. Initially, this didn't sound too challenging to a girl who use to wake up at 4:44 for practice. Anyway, I set my alarm to 5:38 am for just the right amount of time to wake up and get to the pool. I packed my TYR swim bag with my trusty ol' fins, snorkel, and pool buoy then went to bed confident that I would make it to the pool as easily as I use to.

5:38

"Luau! If you're hungry for hunk of fat and juicy meat,

Eat my buddie Pumbaa here cuz he is a treat-"

My hand slipped out from the covers just long enough to turn off my alarm. The bitter cold sent it right back under the covers warning the rest of my body to stay covered. I laid there wide awake thinking of the set I wanted to do in the water. But I wasn't moving. My body refused to cooperate. It didn't mind being woken up, but getting out in the cold was apparently too much to ask. I laid there counting down from ten with the intent of leaping out of my bed on zero.

Ten. Nine. Eight.. I snuggled up a little bit to enjoy my last few minutes of warmth.

Seven. Six. Five...my hand inched towards the edge of the covers preparing to rip them off so I can leap out of bed.

Four. Three. Two...I took a deep breath and braced myself for the cold.

One...zero!

No action. My body knew if it consented to leave the comfort of my blanket-infested bed that it would shortly be walking to pool in 0 degree weather, shivering like those massage chairs--except this wouldn't be pleasant! So I started bargaining.

I'll make hot chocolate if it goes to the kitchen! No movement.

I'll dress up like Ralphie on The Christmas Story so it won't be cold! Nothin'.

I'll take a nice, long, steamy, soothing, cleansing, rejuvenating, alleviating, refreshing, shower after I swim! Pause...still nothing.

Next thing I know I'm counting down for the thousandth time and it's 7:00. Too late to get in a decent workout by the time I walked to the pool. Fail. My body may have won this battle, but the war will continue tomorrow morning. And, I have a few old tricks in store.

H2O

For 12 years I was known as a swimmer. And, just like any other athlete, I followed a routine that was dictated by the clock. I woke up at 4:44, dove into the pool at 5:15, followed a set that was bound by the clock, left the water at 6:45 and returned to the pool at 3:00 where I yet again followed more sets regulated by the clock. Summer training was even more rigorous. Every practice, stroke, flip turn and breath contributed toward my pursuit for the perfect technique that would result in the desired time standard.

As swimmers we have a lot of sayings that we live by:

• Green hair is beautiful. 
• Chlorine is my perfume.
• Goggle tan lines are attractive.
• You know you're a swimmer when "IM" doesn't mean "instant messaging."
• I can eat 5000 calories a day without feeling guilty.
• If I have one day to live, please take me to a swim meet because they last forever!
• We do more flips in an hour than gymnasts do in a season.

We'd laugh at these from time to time and refer to them when asked why we went through the demanding training. But one saying truly captures how I felt about swimming:

"H2O: Two parts heart, one part obsession."  

Your heart had to be committed to swimming. There was no way you could survive a practice that literally took your breath away, without your heart being in it. I came to love the feeling that came after completing a set and being left lifeless on the couch. Being depleted of energy but still having to go to school, work, and continue to practice became a challenge for me. I loved stepping up on the blocks at a meet despite being sore from the previous practice. Nothing is more fulfilling than swimming well when you're exhausted.

It's "two parts heart" because you have to love the joys and the heartaches that come with swimming. It's easy to love swimming when you're improving and accomplishing your goals, but the real challenge comes after that unexpected race. The race where you stepped up on the block feeling confident. You raced so hard that your entire body burned from the lack of oxygen. But you didn't care. The goal was to complete the race as fast as possible. The stroke count, the flip turn, the kick--everything mattered. Yet, you didn't seem to go any faster. The seconds on the face of the clock slipped away just like the water in your hands. The minutes following a well-fought but undesired race are what make or break a swimmer. It isn't the victory that makes a true athlete, it's what an athlete does with the defeat that defines them. The swimmer with "two parts heart" in the sport loves swimming for more than just the triumphs. The defeat becomes motivation for the next race, not a road block.

Then there's the obsession part. This is what woke me up before civilization to return to the pool yet again. And, every time I see a 5-gallon bucket I want to attach it to me while I swim. Then there's the swim suits. It became a challenge to put on the competition suits that were two-sizes-too-small. Oh, and just in case you didn't know, oxygen is overrated. The lane lines, the flags, the blocks, and the scent of chlorine is all so familiar to me. The pool became my home. 

And, yes. I am still obsessed with every bit of swimming. You may take the swimmer out of the pool, but you can't take the pool out of the swimmer. I still wake up before civilization and lay in bed until a decent hour. And, nothing excites me more than a whiff of chlorine. However, the real challenge comes from wanting to still eat 5000 calories a day. Then it hit me...why don't I swim any more? This way I make use of waking up early, return to the smell of chlorine and eat like I use to! I swam for 12 years; I can make it back to the water. Sounds simple enough.

Step one: make it to the pool.