Reflections on Nothing

I'm assembling all my stats for my 2007-2008 triathlon season, which officially concluded with NothingMan. I thought I'd get around to posting that this week, but I'm lazy so not until next week.

But I am looking back on the year and just this past weekend and all I can say it's been some kind of ride. I feel kind of like the Phoenix, in that I truly, honestly felt like I was in an abyss from November through mid-February, and then things just got better and better, but still with bumps along the way, leading up to the reemergence of everything that is good and right with the world.

You, or should I say I, can't stop the inevitable cycles of energy/inertia, bliss/despair, success/failure, and believe me, I had it all this past season, and know there will be more of it in my future. But on the plus side, when you've been at your lowest point, like I was last winter, anything not that is like frosting on the cake. If nothing (!) else, I've become much, much more appreciative of not bad stuff and grateful in general.

After IMLP, which ostensibly was not a good race for me, I was happy to keep training for NothingMan, because, well, I was just happy to be able to do it, and I really now feel like that Phoenix in that I feel really, really physically and mentally strong right now. And then NothingMan was way, way better than anything else all year, and I felt like I was celebrating during it, and still am. I had water in my house, the streets were flooded, it rained all weekend, but that was all just the background. The thing about NothingMan is that you go into it knowing that it has the potential to be way more problematical (from a logistical perspective) than a normal Ironman, and you just have to be OK with it! And then move beyond it, and let the experience be and unfold under the guise of you're swimming, biking and running, which also recedes into the background. And so to be ready for NothingMan, I guess what I'm saying is it's not so much the physical training that counts, but the mental aspect and really, really being able to let go of everything so you can move through it (I suppose for the sake of saying you did x distance) in a state of receptivity to what you can learn about yourself.

Hard to explain, but you are doing the physical activity and maintaining awareness of your surroundings, but it's your mind that really gets to exercise. There were some interesting thoughts I had during the weekend that sometimes I'd share and sometimes not. A new one I had this time around was, "I hate myself." But it was funny--almost like I was disassociating from my own self, or maybe from my physical self. Hard to explain. Anyway, there was no time during NothingMan that I felt any true physical pain or concern over my ability to keep going. In fact, I think I could have just kept going, but sometimes you do need to stop :)

I had my first glimpse of NothingMan-ness in 2004 when I think I was finally able to absorb all the training I'd done the prior 3 years and just enjoy my mental state during the marathon at IMC, which is why that race holds a special place in my heart. And then I got that same thing going during the marathon at IMH 2004. And it made me think, how do I get that more often in my life? And that's when my real journey into Nothingness began. In 2005 I went and ran a marathon by myself. I mean, you know, trying to PR and all, which I did do. And it was good Nothingness, because it prepared me for the next year when my Mom died. I don't know why I waited again until 2007 to do my first NothingMan, but something must have guided me, because it prepared me for the death of my Dad.

And so I think that I really got my Nothingness together (if, in fact, it's possible to get nothing together) for this last weekend's NothingMan, because I was able to transcend all the physical stuff and just float through it, knowing that at some level it's preparing me for something else--what, I have no idea, but I'll know it when it happens. Like my body was just a vehicle that was enabling my mind to do its preparation for what will come next. And I got lucky in that my co-NothingMan was in the same place mentally so we could do it together but allow one another to be wherever we were in our heads, which is the whole point. But then again, a person knows they can do Nothing or else they wouldn't sign up for it, right?

I think at some level that a regular Ironman now just sets me up for Nothing, and I am good with that. I'll eventually be able to stop doing Ironman and just do Nothing. I think I'm getting to be pretty good at Nothing! Don't get me wrong--I think you can get some of your Nothing doing actual events, too, but for me actual events can sometimes be way too distracting what with people trying to shake you loose from your own mind--what's up with that? But both actual events and Nothing do serve to awaken you to more possibilities so you can go, "gee, I could do that." I almost think there is nothing that I couldn't do, but sometimes it just needs to be presented at the right time. You can't force the Nothingness to happen. But to me, it's better than some stupid PR for doing something! Although, again, don't get me wrong--I do not want to suck while doing something or nothing, and I know that the physical preparation is also necessary. Holy shit--did it really take me 12 IM's to get here? I guess so.

What's funny is that I think I'm going to go run a 50K in a few weeks. It won't be nothing, but that's what I mean about sometimes doing nothing awakening you to other things. But I already am excited about doing a 1/2 NothingMan in a couple of months. I'm still not locked in on anything between now and May 2009, but I know it's going to be good stuff one way or the other.

And so I will end this post with a pic of me from the weekend that to me captures just how great it was. I can still feel that smile on my face deep down inside, and hope I can hang onto it for awhile! It was taken after we finished riding in the rain at Fermilab on Saturday.

This is not a Race Report

We finished things up yesterday by starting out with 61 miles on the trainer (we ended up at 54 on Saturday) while it rained pretty heavily. That was the easiest trainer ride I've ever done! And then it was time to do the 27 mile run.

It wasn't pouring, but there was still a steady rain falling when we began the run. Both of us having done rainy Ironman's, we knew to lube up heavily. I had planned out a run "route," and the intention was to do 6.5 miles out and then back, and then stay on the same general route, completing how ever many loops we each individually wanted to do to finish things out.

I was totally thrilled that Rob wanted to run with me. WITH ME! I'm in awe of his running prowess, and I had no clue about how I'd be able to run, considering I'd run like crap at IMLP and that I'd felt somewhat injured the last 3 weeks. Plus, I just don't think of myself as a "runner." But whatever it was, I didn't feel too badly, and I was happy for the running motivation, which was helped by the awesome...um...scenery. Thanks, man!

We did the 6.5 mile out and back together, dodging various flooded roads and sidewalks, getting our feet totally soaked, including a downhill at mile 10 where an SUV decided it just had to plow through all this standing water and create a nice wave that washed up onto my calves. Then it was up the 1-mile hill and 2 more miles mostly gentle downhill to finish out the first 13. We stopped back home for some warm chicken broth and a change of clothes and shoes, since the rain seemed to be tapering off somewhat.

Then we both went out 2+ miles, and Rob went another mile out while I wimped out and turned around because I didn't want to have to run back up the 1-mile hill again. I run that hill (well, maybe it's not a hill to him) a lot in training runs, and I just didn't think I had that much hill running in me today.

I stopped briefly at home for some fluids and headed out for my next 2+ out and then back. Rob went out to the 2+ out, saying he'd catch up to me already going back, but it took him a bit longer than either he or I expected. I was running pretty well at this point, but was starting to feel the usual "this is a long way to run" stuff, plus we spent a lot of time on concrete sidewalks, and even though the rain had let up, it would spray on and off. After we were joined back up, we decided we could use some more warm chicken broth back at the house.

At this point (of course it was difficult to do math, and we had to do the calculations probably three times), Rob was at 24.2 miles and I was at 22.2, so I needed to do the 2+ out and back plus a little more to hit my 27. Rob wanted to stay with me and just do some extra miles (no big deal for him), but as happy as I had been to spend so much time running with him (and being amazed that he would run at my pace), I told him he should just do his 27, and I'd enjoy my last 2 miles running alone.

I had put the red blinky necklace on, and it was getting dark (just after 7PM), and the rain had finally stopped, so people were out walking in this park that we ran by 8 times, I suppose after having been cooped up for 3 straight days of rain. I have to say here that there were at least 4 times in this stretch that there was a girl on rollerblades with child in stroller and a friend of hers on the sidewalk that never budged every time we ran by. Where the hell were they going? Apparently nowhere, since while they were camped out in THE EXACT SPOT on this sidewalk about 1.75 miles from home, we've been running a fucking marathon. You could move, you know. I'm just sayin'. Come on, people--get the fuck outta my way here and give me something to run on! Whatever.

I'm sure I looked odd running with the blinky thing on all by myself. Two women looked at me funny, and I felt compelled to tell them that I was running a marathon and that's why I was blinking. At the time it made sense to me, but now that I write it down, how would someone think that the two things were related?

It felt pretty good when I was about where mile 26 would be, knowing that now I was doing something I'd never done before. After my little rough patch around miles 20-21, my legs were again feeling pretty good, because I knew I was about done. When I got home, Rob kept making me run up and down my driveway trying to get a finishing shot of me running--don't know whether he got one or not, but I was laughing because I could have kept running, but I did sort of want to stop. My right foot never did bother me one iota and neither of us got blisters or chafed, and yeah, maybe it wasn't a big deal because we spread things over 2 days, but still, we just ran 27 miles (I ended up running my 27 in 4:35, what the hell!), and yet we felt pretty great.

There were then many beers, a bottle of champagne and pizza, many, many smiles and general good feelings. I don't remember all of what we talked about last night, but it was all good, including the usual endorphin high, sense of accomplishment and all that. It's really difficult to talk about how doing something like this feels. It's way different than an actual race--in some ways, so much more satisfying--and when I look at how I rode and ran, it was really good for me, so I think that I have some more unexplored potential. Maybe.

OK, so those are some of the facts. Here's the important stuff: the whole weekend was fucking awesome. I had a good hunch that Rob and I would get along really well, and we did, and I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have done this with. It just worked between us without any effort. All I had to do was point him in in the right direction and he was good, and he provided a lot of great decision making when I couldn't seem to do it, gave me a little bit of HTFU on Saturday and got me to run really well on Sunday. We had quiet stretches, thoughtful periods and plenty of laughs.

It was Nothing and Everything and perfect! I highly recommend it, but you know--next time around there might be NothingMan qualifiers :)

Oh--by the way--I am registered for Ironman Canada 2009 as well as IMLP 2009. How did that happen, you ask? Well, Brett told me he got into IMCA during the unanticipated online registration a few weeks ago, and I was talking to him about how great that race is and how I'd like to do it again. And then fate took over, as a second online registration opened up, but I still wasn't thinking about it until Rob told me he was going to try and get in, and I thought I'd try (knowing that I could do both IMLP and IMCA) but really didn't think I'd get in, and then we were talking on the phone and trying to register at the same time (it's true what they say--simultaneous Ironman registration really is hot), and we both got in at about the same time, and neither of us had really planned it, but now it's done. So I get to do the infamous IMLP/IMCA double. How fucking cool will that be?

But I'm pretty sure I'll still find a way to do something nothing soon enough. I'm not sure I can wait another year for it. I know that whenever it is, it will be good and everything I thought it was cracked up to be. Just like NothingMan 2008. It really was something.

Wet Man 2008

That's about all I can say about this. We are into day 3 of monsoon rains care of Hurricane Ike, and are now on Day 2 of NothingMan. Obviously, the plans have changed from a single day festival to do whatever we can whenever we can. I've got some water in my basement, but it's not as bad as some people have. There's a new lake, Lake Nothing, on my street.

We managed to swim yesterday, thinking we'd only have 1 hour during mid-day lap, but then nobody made us stop so we kept going. Rob did all 2.5 miles; me--I didn't count, which was rare for me, but covered a lot of ground.

Then we had to decide about riding in the rain some, all or nothing. We ended up doing about 3 hours in the rain in Fermilab. It wasn't too bad--no lightning, and pleasant enough temperatures.

It's still raining and not stopping anytime soon, so we're going to finish up riding on...THE TRAINER...and then head out and get the run done.

FREE BIRD!!!