Michele & I had a long discussion last night about my post-IM malaise. I did most of the talking. Clearly I’m having a lot more of an issue with it than either of of us thought I did. She had believed I had gotten through it relatively unscathed. I suppose I’ve buried my problems or at least kept them at bay, but the gnawing is becoming more noticeable and painful.
I did IM to help stave off a mid life crisis and now I feel like I have accelerated the mid-life crisis.
A few years ago, me finishing an IM was absolutely inconceivable. It was an insurmountable physical, mental, and emotional test that not only would I never be able to pass, I couldn’t even comprehend attempting. I am ordinary, a mere mortal I not only can I not do IM, it is a joke for me to think about. Dismissed. Throughout the process I thought a lot about the fact that nearly anybody could “do” an IM. It was just a question of how badly you wanted to. A small part of me feels like the sheen of the
Like that exclusive club that you want so badly to get into only to be accepted and then realize “well if they let somebody like me in, they can’t be that great of a club”.
Michele thinks I’m doing a disservice to those that look up to IM by implying that anybody could do it. I understand her point. Not everyone can do an IM. They may have legitimate physical limitations, they may not be mentally cut out for it, whatever. I struggle with that…maybe anybody -can- do it. What makes IM what it is (whatever that “is” is) is that I -did- it. There is a chasm between “can” and “do” (or did). Perhaps I am downplaying the size of the chasm simply because I have been able to cross it.
I don’t feel like I am applying any of the great hard-earned lessons I learned through the IM experience to any of my life anymore.
I’m at a great place professionally right now and IM had nothing to do with it. That frustrates me because I’d like to attribute success professionally to what I’ve learned.
I wondered if some “serial IM’ers” do it every year because they are afraid of the hole that would be left. Kind of staying in a relationship because it would be harder to leave than to just stay put.
Michele asked If I was glad I did it and if I’d do it again. Far more difficult questions than they should be. As far as doing it again, I didn’t think so prior to and immediately after, but I could see myself doing it again at some point but I’d really want to do it for the “right” reasons and I don’t know how I’d determine those reasons right now. As far as am I glad I did it. The easy answer is “yes, of course”. I’ve been asked that question a lot and said “yes, absolutely” every time. This time was different, I really thought about it and I didn’t have an answer. It was far more complicated than yes or no. Based on all I’m currently going through, yes doesn’t seem like a honest answer. I expect that once I resolve all of this that I will be able to say yes and mean it.
During training I frequently thought about the expectation or some sort of conduct code for an Ironman. Like when your ass is really dragging and want to take the elevator but you know deep down that an Ironman would take the stairs. Even on the little things, that mentality really elevated my game. It wasn’t just physical things. I took more pride in more things I did at work and at home. I worked harder at relationships. I had better posture. Now I feel like a fraud. I’ve earned it and just let it go. Packed away like a shell picked up at the beach on vacation. Seemed like a great idea at the time, but now where the hell do I put it?
The tattoo.
The Mind Fuck. Its funny many people, including some of the experts that I read or listened to, talked about what I’ll sum up appropriately as the “mind fuck”. Interestingly it was always within the context of the event itself. Things along the lines of” there will be many dark moments during the event where your body is screaming to stop and you will ask yourself “why am I doing this”? . You gotta have an answer ready and its gotta be motivating enough to keep going. I remember talking to people that euphoric one minute and were reduced to a sobbing mess a half mile later. Oddly I never really went though any of that during the event. I never questioned whether or not I’d finish and I never got to a point where I felt like I could not continue. It was not because I had that much confidence. It was just a case of controlling what I could control and making do with the rest. What nobody ever talks about is the Post-partum IM depression. People don’t seem to acknowledge that beforehand. I didn’t believe it would happen to me, even after seeing what Michele went through. For me the aftermath has been and continues to be the mind fuck. A while back I had a casual conversation with my optometrist that had seen Michele the previous week where they had discussed some of the aftermath Michele dealt with. He had also had a friend that had done IM and had significant issues with the aftermath. After relaying the story about his friend and making the parallel with Michele, the optometrist throws up his hands and says “that settles it, I’m not going to do IM, its just not worth it”. Even though he was clearly not a candidate for IM and that’s what made the joke funny, it really struck me. I wondered to myself if being aware of the aftermath would actually deter someone from doing it. Not that they’d ever really know beforehand.
Did IM cause my issues? Did IM exacerbate or expose existing issues? Does it matter?
