T6 - The Party Must Go on Hold - Run (sort of)

Miami

Run - 90 Minutes

So I spent the weekend in Miami, drinking until 5 AM Friday night, waking up at 11, then drinking again Saturday night only to wake up at 9 for this run. And I had partied pretty steadily through the last 2 training cycles, so I figured no problem, right?

Yeah, notsomuch. The combined 16 hours of sleep over the previous 3 nights plus massive amounts of alcohol and some pre-run sex thrown in didn't exactly make for a stellar workout. I'm not sure which was the biggest contributor, but this was both the first time I'd drank and had sex since this training cycle started. The drinking will definitely be the easier one to cut out.

At any rate, I knew it was going to be a bad run when I got up and found my shoelaces had been eaten by my friend Jimmy's dogs two nights earlier when I left my gym bad unzipped when I was staying at his house. It got even better when I found my awesome new $40 headphones had also been breakfast for his cocker spaniels, forcing me to buy a set of cheap Memorex ones at a Walgreen's in South Beach, which had sound quality on par with a 30-year old AM radio. My new host was nice enough to lend me some shoelaces, but the support pad in the right shoe had also been dogfood, so needless to say the run was off to a bad start.

I parked on 1st and Collins and started out, planning to go up to 25th street and back on the hard pack sand along South Beach. My knee was still bothering me, so I figured this would be a good way to do the long run for this week. While I was not hungover, I was definitely tired and lackadaisical after about the first mile. The Lipodrene was not kicking in and actually making me rather ill, since I had opted to do Lipodrene for breakfast again. I made it up to 25, turned around, and half-ass shuffled it all the way back. Sad ass run, if you wanna call it that.


SO THE PARTY MUST GO ON HOLD....
No motivation, no fire, no nothing. You know why? Because drinking and fucking and Ironman training do not mix. I realized today that doing an Ironman is not simply saying "Hey, I'm gonna do longer workouts now. No biggie." It's not Matt the 21-year-old frat boy going to the gym and sweating off his Vodka Red Bulls and ecstasy from the night before. It's fucking serious shit, and a full life commitment.

I'm not saying I'm going to quit drinking until November 7. That would be near impossible. I'm also not saying I'm going to celibate for the next 5 months. That would just be stupid. But the partying needs to be cut back, and perhaps saved for special occasions.

What I realized is that in every decision I make between now and Panama City, my first consideration needs to be "How is this going to affect training?" Like most guys, my first consideration in every decision up to this point had been "Is this going to get me laid?" But as of now, that needs to change. As of now, before I decide to go out drinking, or go home with someone, or invite someone over, I need to consider whether or not it will adversely affect my commitment to the Ironaman. It may well succeed where so many girlfriends have failed.

I also need to prioritize sleep and eat good meals at night. The burger and fries I had at the Midtown Sports Bar last night does not qualify as a good meal. Again, I'm not turning into a salad eater. That's just not me. But I will make sure dinners and whatnot are substantial if I have a long workout the next day. I'll also be ordering some vitamins this week.

Today, I learned that the Ironman is no fucking joke. It's a life commitment, not just a time commitment. I'm glad I learned this on a relatively-short run in week 20, because now I know that this has to take top priority for the next 5 months. I've partied enough, or at least enough for a while. It's time to do something different. Then, once it's over, if I still want to, the party will rage again.