burn-out.

Two years ago September, I was scared to death. Going into my first Ironman, in Kona of all places, I wondered if I was training enough. I wondered if I would even finish. Everyone I met told me his or her horror story of walking 26.2 or getting blown off the road..

Last September, I was just having fun. I was training with Katherine and Amy, had a couple of Ironmans under my belt, and was confident that I could finish and hoping to better my time. I was enjoying every minute of it.

That brings me to this September. Kona will be my fifth Ironman in a little under 2 years. My ninth marathon in that span. If I could do the training right, I think I would be loving it. But I am over it. All of it. Enough chronic injury. I am done with S! tabs and Infinit and Powergel. I am sick of everything going wrong. People have always called me lucky. I have always believed that I make my own luck. So is it something in me making my luck so terrible lately? My right leg works intermittently. The road rash kept me up all night, more painful than the day it happened. Conveniently located at each joint on my left side, the big raw patches refuse to heal and hurt with every move. I gave up at 4 am and went to do the speed workout. You know that girl Katherine I said I can do all my training with because we're always the same pace? Well, we're not the same pace anymore. I can't keep up.

Which is why Friday's Kona trip is well-timed. Last year Katherine, Amy and I covered the course in two days:

This year it's just Katherine and I, and we'll do the same. First flight over Friday morning, ride out to Hawi, stop and enjoy the town for a little bit, since we don't do that often, ride back and run off the bike. Then Saturday we'll lay out our aid stations and head to the Energy Lab & back. When we're feeling recovered enough, we'll swim the course.. or our best clueless approximation.

Perhaps the trip will remind me of all that I love about Ironman Kona and the fun I have there each year. And if it doesn't, then sayonara Kona. Racing in Kona is a luxury, not a requirement. If things don't start to come around, I'm going to slip Wee my Timex jersey, glue some braids to her head and send her out there to stand in for me.

I thought about asking Sky if she had any pearls of four year-old wisdom about Kona and whether I need to stop and consider that perhaps everything is stacked against my racing for a reason. I thought maybe she could help me adjust my attitude with her innate, sweet happiness. I looked over to where she was standing just as she held a diet coke can to her crotch and said to Wyatt: Look at my big weenie! and decided I had better not interrupt. Or listen to her about anything important, ever.