6:49. That’s the target time set by Specialized for me to finish Ironman 70.3. If I finish before then, I own the handsomest bike I have ever set my eyes on, the Specialized Shiv, that was loaned to me during the past few months. If I don’t, then I’ll have to purchase the Shiv if I want to keep him.
1) Holy #@%*#! What did I get myself into?! I am dead!
2) It’s a fair target time. It’s achievable, but it’s not going to be a walk in the park too. I can do this! I will do this! I will own that Shiv!
3) Holy #@%*#! I can’t ride that fast! I’d rather pay for the bike then kill myself on the road! (Wait. I take that back. I think my husband will kill me first if I have to pay for that bike!)
4) I’ve done the work. I am physically and mentally ready for Ironman 70.3. Move over Pete Jacobs!
5) Holy #@%*#! I have to run that fast under intense heat after swimming and biking?!
6) 6:49? Pffft. I’ll finish 10 minutes before then with time to spare to kiss the Shiv, hug my coaches, and high five my teammates.
7) Uhm. Why am I doing this again?
Like many other triathletes signed up for Ironman 70.3 Cebu, I’m experiencing a wild mix of emotions—fear, excitement, anxiety, restlessness, doubt, confidence, and more—in the last two weeks leading up to the race. In short, I’m going nuts! (This target time is pushing me even closer to the edge, ya know!)
No one knows how our race will go. All we know now is what we did in the past months to prepare our bodies, our minds, and our hearts to endure whatever is out there in the water and on the road.
Target time or not, I’ll be giving my best come August 5 anyway. We probably all will. So, I’m heading into the race giving everything I’ve got, hoping for the best, and I’ll just swim, ride, and run strong heeding my coach’s last orders: GIVE THEM HELL!
Wish me luck. And, if you have time, please say a short prayer for me.