As athletes, we dedicate enormous time and energy into getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. Pain becomes a normal part of being. It's not just a tool in the athlete's arsenal; it becomes a riding companion, a training buddy, a friend we love and hate at once.

But what happens when that uncomfortable feeling never leaves? When it has manifested itself into intense fatigue, and hours later you still feel lackluster, un-energized, eager to plop down on the couch and sleep?

Backing off training is difficult. No matter the athlete or situation, we mentally equate backing off with slacking off. All athletes do it. That mental drive is what usually keeps us going day in and day out. It ensures we hit our training goals versus trading it all in for some Netflix and chill. Backing off feels like defeat, and goes against our competitive nature.

But sometimes, it's a necessary part of training.

Woof. That one hurt. #sarahfrysrunselfie #dohardthings #trainingpic

A photo posted by Alisha Shutler (@snazzyrayoflight) on Aug 22, 2015 at 10:01am PDT

In music, it is sometimes said that the most important part of a musical phrase or composition are the rests - the pauses in-between notes - which speak volumes to the listener with so little silence, accenting a melodic crescendo, heightening the anticipation before the climax, or gradually lulling our senses down into a relaxed state. 

Rest for an athlete is as equally essential as the training - the two go hand in hand. Without rest the training becomes too much overload for the body, and it cannot adapt to the stressors when not given sufficient time to do so. 

As I worked my way through my latest training block this past month, I was reminded of that old idiom, "It's always easier to give advice than to take your own." But remembering how important rest is helped me to finally reach another breakthrough - the one where I finally admit the need to change plans for a workout and give my body the rest it deserves, all knowing that my body will be the better for it, not worse.

And boy was I right.

It wasn't anything too special. I ended up changing just two workouts to recovery in the second week of my training block in order to give my legs sufficient time to adapt. The week prior had been amazing. Mile after mile repeat, interval after threshold interval, through an endurance day, through a brick day, and again when I capped off the week with hill repeats, I was convinced my legs had been replaced with magic. I nailed every single workout. Every. Single. One! It was a spectacular feeling. Then I entered week 2 - the same workouts but longer and/or with more repeats. By mid-week it was like a switch had flipped inside me. I could just about physically feel it. Happened right after I finished my third threshold interval that Wednesday...

CLICK.

I dragged myself back home on the bike. Almost literally. I had never felt so awful. I was drained the rest of the day. My hamstrings (of all things!) were in more pain than I had ever experienced. I pushed through a hard-endurance ride the next morning (you know the one - where you're riding fairly hard with the group but you have juuust enough downtime that your average power somehow remains in the top end of zone 2) and immediately regretted it after. By the end of the ride my hamstrings had actually become numb to the pain. I was supposed to cap off the day with a 6 mile run. I waited until the evening to attempt it. Chose a super-flat course that stayed in the crosswinds. Hydrated and rested all day. But I didn't even make it a half-mile before I realized that I had to quit. There would be no six miles that day. I finished the slowest one-mile ever and resigned myself to walking a couple more before heading home.

After discussing what to do with my coach that evening, we both thought I should see how I felt after my usual Friday rest day. Saturday came and went with an endurance run that was much harder than it should have been, and I realized I had to make the call. With trepidation I told Mark how crummy I was feeling and that I knew I would not be able to make the hill rep session. He told me to do a 2 hour active recovery ride instead. So Sunday morning I woke up, and instead of prepping my bike to head out to ride hills in Tulsa, I hopped on and rode out to Guthrie Lake instead, enjoying the sunrise with a couple of fishermen before heading home. I think it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

The next week I was at it again on Tuesday, building once more from the previous weeks. Only this time, when I reached Sunday, I was able to complete my hill reps. Not only did I do them, I did them with flying colors (and at significantly better power than I had the last time)! The following week I was still nailing it.

By admitting that I needed extra rest, and peeling back just a little, I had given my body the time it needed to adapt to the new training, and it was now responding beautifully.

I contrasted this to a time only a few weeks before Nationals in June... It was Memorial Day, and I was tired of all the lonely hours solo training can bring, so I decided to hop in on one of the day's big group rides instead of staying steady and aerobic (and probably alone) as instructed. As Big Group Rides tend to be, the fast guys showed up and pushed the pace at the front, and instead of a nice, steady aerobic ride, I pushed hard, really hard, for 3+ hours, just trying to hang on to the tail end of the group. I was at the end of training block and already fatigued, and instead of giving my body the adequate rest it needed to set up for the final few weeks before my big A race, I sent my body into yet another over-reached and over-fatigued state. I almost didn't recover in time. In fact, the very day before the race, while I was previewing the course, I was still coping with a bit of fatigue and soreness in my legs... BIG MISTAKE.

So I'm glad that this time around, I'm showing growth and learning to watch the signs and signals that my body gives me. I consider it a mental breakthrough more than anything, but one that can lead to deep physical gains if listened to properly.