Monday, September 4, 2017

All Dressed Up And Only 140.6 Miles To Go

One whole year has passed since I sat down and put my thoughts into words about why I am training  to become an Ironman.

365 days since I woke up at 5 am, got a cup of coffee, grabbed my credit card,  and stood in line with my fellow aspiring athletes to sign up for Ironman Madison 2017. One year since I took a leap of faith and made a vow to become the best version of myself that I can be. It feels like it was only a few weeks ago that I thought I had all the time in the world to make my dream a reality. Now, lo and behold, here we are 51 weeks later, and I am staring down the barrel of my taper week into the loaded gun that is Ironman.


In the last few weeks I have had AMPLE time to reflect and think about the last year, and how my life has evolved. Funny how when you are on a 6 hour ride, your mind will wander to all sorts of previously unexplored places. While I usually have a few songs I like to sing to as an effort to keep my thoughts at bay, sometimes I can't help but have deep, existential ponderings while rolling through the countryside all alone.

Let me start by saying this last year has been hard. It has royally sucked in a lot of ways. But it has also been a year of the most personal and professional growth I have had in my entire 32 years. I kicked 2017 off by filing for divorce and moving back to Minneapolis. I felt like there was a whole life out there that I hadn't even begun to tap into. I had the itch to do bigger and better things. I wanted to accomplish things that I had never in a million years thought I could do (ahem, Ironman). And I knew it was a life I was going to have to traverse alone.


My heart is full with the amount of support I have received from everyone throughout this year. My coach and big brother, Mike, has made me into an athlete that I never imagined I could be. For all the times growing up that I resented him for being better at sports than me, or for being smarter, or for just being an overall great person, I see now that I was always just a jealous teenager. And now as an adult, I look up to him as a fellow athlete, and as a man that is truly a hero of mine. Despite him having a sick sense of enjoyment with his torturous training plans. And by that I mean making me do sets of a bazillion 200's in the pool, or 5k repeats, or the dreaded FTP testing. Despite all that, he is one hell of a coach, and the best brother a girl could ask for.


Ladendorf family State Fair outing. 
I may never eat a mini donut again. 

On top of both ending and beginning relationships, I found myself being thrust into a new role at the bar I work at. I was now the General Manager, and my responsibility and accountability had now skyrocketed. No longer was a I "just a bartender". The fate of the restaurant, the jobs of people that work there, and the success of the business model had now become my sole purpose. Holy shit. What a scary thought. Sometimes I still look at myself and wonder how the hell they trust me with running a business. I still see myself as the chaotic, frazzled, unsure, and anxious person that I have been in the past. But as I continue my career, I see that I am no longer any of those things, and I am fucking good at what I do.

However, as my professional obligations grew, so did my time requirements for training. Any semblance of "free time" had fallen off the wagon and tumbled into the proverbial ditch in my list of priorities. It was becoming hard enough to balance working, training, and sleeping a decent amount. I had to make the choice between eating/sleeping or seeing friends more times than I can count.

Believe me though, I am fully aware that I have been nonexistent as a human for the last 4 months. Thankfully a good portion of my friends and loved ones are fellow triathletes, so our quality time has been spent training or at races. And my family has been understanding about having a ghost for a daughter this year as well. I think I have told people I will "be a normal human in only a few weeks" at least a hundred times.

Mini golf with my favorite ladies. 

I am still thinking of a way to thank everyone in my life for putting up with the craziness that has been this year. Every step of this journey has been made possible because the people I love are helping push me to succeed.  Someday I will find a way to thank you all for being the guiding light in a lot of dark times.

Despite the personal struggles I have had, this year has been filled with lots of confidence building workouts. I have done mileage and times that I could have never imagined my body doing before. It's a great feeling to accomplish things that you didn't think your body could do. Especially for someone who spent years drinking and smoking and basically killing myself slowly.

Don't get me wrong though, with all the highs I have hit, there have been plenty of lows. I will never forget the first trip I took to Madison in July to ride the course. I woke up early, got on my bike, and tried to follow my handwritten directions. Which is a nightmare for someone like myself that has the worst internal compass on the planet. But I persevered, and headed out onto the loop.

And as I got 30 miles in, it started to get hot, I had royally screwed up some of my nutrition, and the course was beginning to take its toll. I got off my bike, and I sat down and cried. A lot. I had no idea how I was ever going to be able to do this loop twice, and then some. My legs were fried, and every hill I came up to made me want to curl up in a ball and quit. I had no clue how I was going to even come close to competing in an Ironman. I had never doubted my abilities more than I did in that very moment. I texted Mike and he assured me that I was ok, and this was normal. But it still felt like garbage.

BARLOW. My nemesis. 



And after a few short weeks, a century ride, and another two loops around the course in August, my confidence had returned. (That is until tapering began, but that's a whole different story)

In the weeks that followed that first trip to Madison, I found that when I wasn't working, I was either eating, sleeping or training. I guess it really is 100 percent true what everyone says about training for an Ironman. It is not for the faint of heart, nor the half assed. I gave my entire summer to this dream, and frankly I have given every day of the last year to one specific date; September 10th. I do not regret that choice for one instant. The long Saturday rides, followed by running in the heat. The early morning and late night swims. The brick workouts and two a days. It was all for something bigger.  It was for me to see what I am really made of, and what I am truly capable of. If you knew me 5 years ago, you would never believe that I would become the woman I am today. I train to prove all the preconceived notions of who I am wrong. I persevere to show other people, and mostly myself that I am capable of incredible things. The pain is what lets me know that it is real. The pain is what makes it great.

But in the end, all of the pain, all of the suffering, every drop of blood, sweat and all the tears will float away when I make my final descent down the red carpet to hear Mike Reilly call out, "Erin Ladendorf, you are an IRONMAN."

In 6 short days, I will see you all at the Capitol.