<http://schema.org/articleBody>
"Some days are just not your day. Yesterday was one of those for me and I've had a roller coaster of emotions following what was supposed to be my \\\"race back\\\" from injury, in which I could show what I could do when I'm healthy, and be ready to do a race that I was looking forward to. Guess I still have some time, and a lot of work, to do before that's the case.\\n\\n It started with thunder and lightening at 4:30 to 5 in the morning. As the crowd of athletes gathered at the shore of the lake in Wilderness at Disney, we watched a beautiful sunrise among cloudy skies and realized it was going to be a beautiful day, hopefully not too hot, and I was feeling nervous and tired but still positive. The swim was a lake swim in hot water and we train in a warm pool, so I told myself, no worries, that even without the benefit of flotation that a wetsuit provides, I would have a good swim. The yellow buoys lined up to our left and on the way out I found myself drifting too far left and trying to stay on course, but even though I couldn't find a good steady rhythm, I stayed positive. I felt I wasn't \\\"holding\\\" the water or staying above it, and though I was feeling the slip of water through my hands, it wasn't the first time I've had an off swim and recovered from it. I always have to catch up to the women who I start with, since I'm a relatively slow swimmer. I'd taken a lesson the day before and tried to incorporate some of that \\\"relax\\\" at recovery into my stroke. But the result was a particularly relaxed swim, meaning super slow. By the time I got out of the water most of my field was 10 to 15 minutes ahead of me. Tough but not impossible. I vowed to have a good bike.\\n\\n ![[#image: /photos/57d8e34e4b76f0f832a10011]||||||](http://blog.self.com/magazine/blogs/lucysblog/assets_c/2011/05/IMG_0264-112961.html)   \\n  \\n##### Andi and Lucy at National Training Center pool in Clermont, Florida, getting last-minute swim tips before the race. Her instructor, Misty, explains that in open water swimming, you have to totally relax your recovery in order to stay strong for the long distance. I watch and think: I am SO not relaxed in the water. Gotta try to remember that on race day! Maybe I relaxed too much!\\n\\n   \\n The ride felt good: warm air on my body after such a cold winter in the Northeast and my new bike (an Orbea that I just got in March) was working beautifully. I saw people repairing flats, since on wet roads you often get a little piece of something sharp stick to the wheel and then run over it again, causing a puncture, and I thought: as long as you don't flat, be happy. You're going about 20 mph into headwinds and the power gauge is telling you you're working hard but not too hard... better to keep legs fresh for the run. I never caught up to the women in my age group and instead kept getting passed by the younger, faster bikers who went off after me, and while I like to pass people I hate being passed. Still, I told myself: stay positive, think of the fact that you have 56 miles to get the job done. Stay on it. Don't lose heart.\\n\\n By the time the ride was winding down, I felt strong and spent but not \\\"blown up\\\" by the effort. It was work trying to eat a little Clif Bar and Chomps and to keep drinking my electrolyte fluids, but I'd managed to put in about four bottles, good for me and I was still feeling that I could pull out a decent result, despite the terrible swim. I got back to my rack and about five bikes were there. Go run and think that it's all doable, don't defeat yourself, I told myself. Being positive is part of the sport. Then after a few miles of easy running to get used to being off the bike, I tried to push a little harder and it wasn't there. I was incredulous: I'd \\\"saved\\\" my energy for just this moment and the energy eluded me. I tried to surge a little more but my body felt heavy and limp. Where were my legs? Why couldn't I run? Throughout the race I'd felt a little nauseous but nothing serious. My foot injury was a little painful, as was my hamstring, but nothing more than a dull ache. Nothing was keeping me from going faster, so I tried to use my mental check list: relax your arms, tilt forward from the ankle, be quick on your feet. Hear the cadence of a song in your head, smile! None of it worked. All my usual go-to tricks were useless. I had another 8 miles to go and instead of picking up the pace, now in the heat and humidity I was slowing down! It was all I could do to stuff ice into my top (cooling the heart, trying to feel less overheated) and keep going.\\n\\n ![[#image: /photos/57d8e34f46d0cb351c8c71e2]||||||](http://blog.self.com/magazine/blogs/lucysblog/IMG_0272.jpg)   \\n  \\n##### I loaned Andi my camera and she takes a picture of me on the run, as she is screaming \\\"GO LULU!\\\" And she totally misses me in the picture. I decide it is the perfect metaphor for my run. I basically didn't show up. Missing: my legs and mental strength and speed. Ooops. Well, at least there's no picture of me looking pained and slow. Meanwhile people after the race said she was the best cheerleader on the course, screaming at everyone going past. It certainly helps!\\n\\n I considered stopping. I thought about walking. I also realized I could \\\"lose\\\" my chip and there'd be no one wiser for my miserable result today... It happens. But then I also thought about all the people tracking me and rooting for me: my friends back home, my family, my coach, the running and swim coaches who've been so positive about my recent progress and even gave me loving encouragement by phone and text in the days leading up to the race. Plus, I had my own personal cheerleader there, my training buddy Andi, who came to be supportive even though she is still unable to run from her own broken ankle. And I thought: I'm letting everyone down by being so slow. But I would be letting mySELF down if I quit. I am not a quitter. I didn't come here to not complete this race, even though at the pace I was running it was proving to be my slowest time ever. I knew that if I quit I would have lost all my own self-respect. I vowed to keep running, not walk a step, even though many others were walking through the aid stations, walking the last three or four miles of the final loop. I would keep running, even at my baby-step snails pace.\\n\\n I ran through the finish with a smile on my face and let them take a picture. I thought: be grateful for this day, this healthy body, this chance to race. It's not everyone who has the opportunity to do a half-Ironman, just for fun. And if it isn't fun I shouldn't do it. The reason I love triathlon isn't to be the best but to be my personal best, even if on some days, that's a slow version of me. I decided to let it be a lesson to myself: You do this sport for what it gives you on the off days. The resilience. The good sportsmanship of not quitting even if it means being trounced by other women in my age group, and congratulating them on their great day, even as I had to smile while hearing them lament how \\\"slow\\\" they felt out there...while their version of slow is much, much faster than I had gone. I also knew that being grateful for the day meant that this sport makes me want to be a better person, not just athlete. And to me that meant calling up my kids and telling them: I had a terrible day, but I didn't quit. And though the day didn't go the way I'd hoped, I still knew that it was a privilege to race, and I felt lucky to be there!\\n\\n ![[#image: /photos/57d8e35046d0cb351c8c71e3]||||||](http://blog.self.com/magazine/blogs/lucysblog/assets_c/2011/05/IMG_0273-112964.html)   \\n  \\n##### At airport on way home, Andi checks my times and texts our coaches so I can avoid the painful conversation of \\\"what went wrong\\\" which is basically nothing I want to talk about. No excuses, I've decided. Her T-shirt: Ironman in Training, 2012, was meant for her, with a broken ankle taking her out of the action in much of 2011. I think: maybe it's for both of us. Better luck next year!"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.self.com/story/silver-lining-on-a-cloudy-day>