LIFE LESSONS; To Be Continued
Today as I crossed
the finish line, earning the 70.3 title, I crossed it a wiser person than I had
been at the start line. This morning,
waiting in my wave to head into the water, I was filled with fear and uncertainty. If I was honest with myself at the lowest
common denominator I was afraid of failing and in fact had verbalized this
several times in the days leading up to today’s triathlon. I am not sure how I could have defined
failure, mostly it was a vague cloud hovering over me. As I headed into the water this morning, the
only thing I could think of is wondering what the hell I was doing there.
I was given the gift of several lessons today though. Or perhaps I re-learned the lessons. I was
reminded of what finishing and winning
means, and also was reminded about who I am in this sport. I have always been quick to point out that I
am not a triathlete and I am still
uncertain about my ability to make it to the start of Ironman in September. Ironically enough, my IM goal was sparked
while running 220 km across Africa which should be an indication of what it is
that I love to do, versus what I am doing.
I waited at the start of the swim today, looking at the buoy’s
and although I am sure I had thoughts, I
couldn’t tell you what they were. Primal
fear was the only emotion I can recall and I am sure any thoughts I had were
related to the fear. Let me be clear on
how much I despise swimming and how completely uncomfortable I am with it. My
swimming is always one step shy of desperation and completely miserable. Most times I can settle into a somewhat calm
feeling after the initial waves of panic.
Today I couldn’t find it and fought my swim and fear the entire
way. 1.2 miles is a hell of a long way
to fight and by the time I got out of the water I was exhausted.
Coming out of the water, I had two thoughts. First relief it was over and a sense of pride
I had done it. It wasn’t pretty but I
did it. I was reassured by the thought that cycling would be easier, although I
have also yet to have a great ride this year.
I have been plagued by an inability to find a fit that doesn’t result in
screaming pain from my back all the way down my legs. With a recent bike fit, and new components I
was feeling confident today would be a better day on the bike. Within 5 minutes on the bike I was filled with
dread. My back was hot with pain in the
first few minutes and with 55.5 miles to go I realized there was a chance the
finish line would not be in my future today. Looking back I am not sure how I
managed to finish the bike, other than sheer stubbornness. A few weeks ago it
was pointed out as a criticism that I was stubborn, and thankfully yes I am. I
will admit that the pain was so bad that I literally spent miles crying on the bike.
I had one driving thought the entire time and that was to get off my bike and
just be done. I am not sure I why I
didn’t, why I stayed on.
The two memories I will have of the ride is the pain and the
rainstorm that popped up with winds that moved me sideways. It rained so hard
it sounded like hail on my helmet. I tucked
in as far as I physically could at that point and I remember just laughing and
thinking “well we do need the rain”. The
winds were strong enough I thought I was done as it blew me from one side of
the road to the other. I had about 2-3
miles left to go when the storm popped up.
I could hear thunder and see lightning and despite spending
hours fighting the urge to get off the bike and quit, I felt desperate fear
they would close the race down. My
immediate thought was that no matter what I was going to run my 13.1. WHAT??? It was an automatic thought and even as I thought
it I wondered why the hell I wouldn’t wish for them to close the course. There is no more dignified way out than if
you are not allowed to finish right? I wish I could explain it to you, because
it doesn’t make sense to me either. It
didn’t make sense to me last month in Utah either when I had a chance to run
the half marathon instead of the full.
For a brief moment I was overwhelmingly relieved at doing a shorter
distance and then although it would have been so much easier in many ways, I
realized that I was going to do the full no matter what it took.
I do understand though, my physical urge to get off the bike
and quit was just that. A physical urge,
disconnected from who and what I am. Isn’t
this true for anyone doing their own race, from a 5k to an Ironman. Our bodies recruit our nerve endings, enlisting
a relentless campaign to somehow stop the pain.
My finish line is really about the ability to override the constant
battle. I imagine they will have to pull me from a course before I ever raise
the white flag. It has less to do with
pride or stubbornness, and much more to do with knowing what it feels like to
not be able to move my body.
My second lesson today came on the last part of the race,
the run. It is no secret running is my
love and it is what makes my world right many days. Having made it through the swim and the bike
and feeling more beat up than I ever remember, I came out of transition
wondering how I would possibly run 13.1 miles. My body was on fire, the pain and fatigue were
overwhelming and despite my love of running, 13.1 seemed completely impossible. I headed out onto the run and the first half
mile is a solid uphill climb. I was
pretty sure I was not going to make it and yet like on the bike I also knew it
was not an option to quit. Ever. One foot in front of the other, I kept going
and watching people finish the run as I was just heading out which added to my
defeat. Adding to my misery I knew I had
to do two loops, which is always a form of mental cruelty in my opinion. Well-meaning volunteers would yell out encouraging
words of “almost there” and I wanted to scream at them that I was just starting
my $#@! run! Thankfully words took too much energy at that
point and I just kept moving.
My epiphany came somewhere around the 6 mile mark. Despite being on the course way longer than I
had wanted to, despite the brutality of the first two events and despite the
heaviness and fatigue in my entire body I realized I was loving the run. The trails are home to me, I know every inch
of them and I felt peaceful and happy being there. Although it had been hours since I crossed the
start line I felt happy. I found myself
thinking how great the day would be if it had been hours of running instead of
having to do the other two events first.
I have wondered if I would be one of the people who stood in
line to get a spot in IM 2013 when I get to Madison this year. I figured I would know when the time got
here, and maybe I still will. I realized
today however that although I have unbelievable pride in my ability to not quit
today, I am really not a triathlete. I
am a runner who is registered for a triathlon.
I came out of the first two events so defeated and tired. Yet, still I can say with all honesty that
even in the pain of the run I didn’t battle once with the thought of quitting,
nor did I curse the run as I did the entire bike and swim. This will be my summer to have an affair with
the triathlon world but in the end I have no doubt running will remain my true
love. The Dr. Suess quote "be who you are" comes to mind and I am proud to be a stubborn runner. Perhaps I will evolve over the
year to feeling like a triathlete, but I have a difficult time imagining the
peace and joy I did today when I finally got to run. I am determined to finish what I started and
will march toward the start of Ironman Wisconsin, yet in my heart I will get
through the first part so I can do the best part.
So many moments brought tears to my eyes and I walk away
today, proud of finishing. I am aware I
still have many obstacles in getting to the IM start line in September, and I
am grateful for today’s lessons. I was
brought to this journey by them, by women like me and by the fight to the finish
line. I am grateful in ways no words can explain for
every moment of today and I carried several ladies with me reminding me that to
be able to fight is the greatest gift we are given.
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