On the eve of one of the world’s toughest endurance events made much tougher by my recent life events, I could not have imagined this experience being so completely opposite from what I expected getting into it a year ago when I registered.
Last year as many people know, I set a goal of finishing three full Ironman events in the 2010 season – which, thanks to Norm, affectionately became dubbed “The Trifecta”. While there were several reasons I chose to do this, including some too personal to share, none of the reasons seem particularly relevant anymore.
In recent months the Ironman Trifecta disintegrated into the “Derailment Trifecta”. In mid-April, my formerly under-control blood glucose issues became medically serious and after a tremendous amount of testing, still remain undiagnosed. In late April, I injured my Achilles, significantly affecting my biking, and bringing my run training to a screeching halt for nearly 8 weeks. Then to bring home the hat trick, my life partner of nearly 18 years and I decided to divorce.
Unsurprisingly, my life has been an emotional fucking train wreck ever since. When it came to The Trifecta, I have vacillated between dogged determination, unapologetic apathy, to a rudderless “what the fuck am I even doing?” daily over the last few months. Often hourly. This Ironman experience has reflected life in many, many ways.
Most people don’t realize the hardest thing about finishing an Ironman is just getting to the start line. I am here, ready, and deeply appreciate the opportunity to start tomorrow. I am incredibly fortunate to have an amazing support team. My team has helped me navigate the challenges and kept me moving emotionally and physically. These are the folks that have willingly been on call for me when I’m out on a workout, those that have followed my experiences with interest and thoughtfully offered encouragement, and those who have listened or gave advice when needed, helping to keep things in perspective.
So I’m not in the shape I would have liked to be for this event. I don’t wake up every day ready to take on life either, but I do. I’ve never been much of a fan of Donald Rumsfeld, but one thing he said makes sense not only from an Ironman standpoint, but from a life standpoint: “As you know, you go to war with the Army you have. They’re not the Army you might want or wish to have at a later time.” In life, you show up each day the same way. You show up and work with what you’ve got. If you’re lucky, you can put something towards tomorrow to make things a little bit better for yourself or make yourself a little bit better to face tomorrow. You just keep putting one foot in front of the other and move along: to the finish line, to the next training ride, to the next event, to the next challenge, to the next day, to the next…
So what does it all really mean? It would be easy to position the Ironman Coeur d’Alene experience as a metaphor for personal triumph over seemingly insurmountable challenges and investing myself fully into the completion of the event. Alternatively, it would be easy to position the event as meaningless, since my life and priorities are so vastly different than from when I registered and committed to IM CdA and to The Trifecta. I’m choosing to position the experience as a process. It’s not about me crossing the finish line within the designated cut-off time, though that would certainly be gratifying.
It’s about getting on my bike because I love to ride.
It’s about pushing myself physically and the satisfaction of improvement.
It’s about being disciplined mentally and to stay focused and challenged.
It’s about being around people that add value to me as a person, whether they lend an ear or a shoulder, offer to be on call when I’m out training, or are out there sweating with me.
At this point, I am not currently concerned about IM Louisville, much less IM Wisconsin. They have nothing to do with now – I’m choosing to live in the present tense.
Those among you that subscribe to destiny or a deity probably believe that all these things have been aligned for me to fully understand and appreciate this lesson. Maybe no one else even sees an alignment. All I know now is that the student was ready and the teacher appeared (and punched me in the face while she was at it). 🙂
I’m here doing what I am doing because I want to; nothing more, nothing less. Which is really the only reason I should have been doing all of this in the first place.
