Of Mars And Venus

I've become obsessed with interested in reading Ironman and Half-Ironman stories on blogs. And I have a confession to make. (No, I'm not signing up for one. I can't imagine setting my sights that high. (Yet.) A sprint distance is out of my reach at the moment and the Olympic distance I'm training for? It scares me probably the exact right amount for a race that is six months off.) No, my confession is this: I get seriously put off by the seeming maleness of the whole endeavor. Almost flat out repulsed. Ironman, the acronym HIM, the battle language (or sometimes even homophobic/borderline hate language pretending to be humor), the discussions of gastro-intestinal disturbances, etc. I have been unhappy to find myself feeling disheartened and oversensitive after reading the gory but usually triumphant race reports of first time male ironmen.

I've been trying to determine what exactly bothers me so much. I don't think it's simply a matter of either being left out or grossed out. It's not that I'm a girly girl who wants it to be all kittens and unicorns. I get inspired by stories of how tough it is. It's not that I don't need to hear about the earthier aspects that arise. I, too, have bodily functions that impact my training/racing. (And making light of them and sharing ways to overcome them is as good a way as any to deal with them!) It's not even that I am unused to the uglier, macho aspects of patriarchal institutions. For heavens sake - I was in the Navy, worked for the church, and am a longtime NFL fan! I also can't use my old excuse of "I just don't understand boys!" anymore. Even though it's true that I was only around girls growing up (between prep school and an all female household) - I now have a fabulously manly partner (John), FOUR sons (three of whom are teenagers already) and a male dog (well, sort of male after that trip to the vet). Boystuff is often still weird but not mysterious to me the way it once was. No, it's not any one of these layers specifically but maybe the accumulation of all of them in one place - there at the edges of what it means to endure.

I think endurance sports are about finding edges, then pushing them and yourself. I grok that there is an inherent hostility about that process. But the distilled negativity I feel after reading men's stories leaves me discouraged while I feel inspired and challenged by women's experiences. The raw male hostility seems to get transmuted into beautiful, crystalline strength on girl blogs. Why on earth is that?? I can't puzzle it out. They have similar ingredients. Women write about chafing lady bits, disgusting infections, intense rivalries (with the clock, other competitors, themselves), setbacks and triumphs. I can't come up with a concrete, rational explanation for my perception shift.

I've been wondering if it would be the same if I could read a report with gender references removed. Could I transcend my own narrowness? Would I still have this hang up? I've been wondering if it's something I'll grow out of (like my sensitivity to coconut) or be stuck with (like my unfortunate allergy to raspberries). Or maybe it's something to know about myself and to work around (like the way I can't eat raw onions 'cause they upset my stomach, but perfectly carmelized onions on a salad are like manna from heaven for my whole self.) I don't know. I think for now I'm going to take the fellas' blogs in smaller doses and concentrate on the nicest seeming ones at that. I think I'm also going to immediately go find some healthy calories. Look at how my rambling about the relative merits of estrogen vs. testosterone laden race reports drifted right over into food parallels! (See how my mind has to be the one to tell me I'm hungry?) So, I'll leave off the confessions and ponderings for now - but if anyone has some ideas or links to great iron-reads, please send them my way. I'd love to get over my limitations! Chow! Ciao!
PS - STRONG 25 minute run today. Alone. With Madonna. "Those who run seem to have all the fun."