I had an interval set on the bike.
Look, I've trained for and done 70.3's. I've cried during 70.3 training but only because I was so happy a workout was over....not because the workouts were crazy tough. Crazy long, yes.
There are NO workouts in this world that break me like sprint training.
Today I hit that dark place.
I had 20 intervals. RIDICULOUS intervals.
At 5, I realized I couldn't do it anymore. I had already done 5. I had 15 more. 15 MORE.
I got discouraged. I cut intervals 5-6-7-8 by :15 seconds.
I almost quit, but the thought of having to face Liz and say, "I quit" was terrifying to me.
I thought to myself, "Don't quit. Change the plan."
I decided that I would shorten the intervals, but the shorter I went, the harder I had to go.
Each interval, I finished, shaking. I couldn't pedal. I rested my head on the aero bars, trying to recover in time for the next one to start.
I finished this watered down workout, successfully. But I didn't feel good about it.
I keep reminding myself that these workouts are less about hitting the intervals and more about the mental side.
Are you going to give up?
Are you going to quit?
What are you going to do when things get tough?
What are you going to do when you are discouraged?
Quitting is the easy way out. Giving up is the easy choice.
Week after week, Liz is pushing me harder and harder. I miss one set of intervals. I think, "She'll back off this week." Instead, she comes at me with harder intervals.
I keep at it. Why? I don't know. Maybe because deep down inside, I think, that she believes in me....that she believes I can do this. That there's a reason she's pushing me like this.
That....she's going to take me to the brink, and I'm going to see something absolutely beautiful on the other side.