IMCHOO 2015- Here We Go

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 
 
We are only a few days out from Ironman Chattanooga 2015 (IMCHOO).  Here we are facing the start line to this race.  My heart leaps, fluttering with excitement and nerves.  Some will tell me, “Don’t worry, you have done this before.”  But this does not calm my nerves; it does comfort me to be reminded that I HAVE done this before.  I try to build on this comfort platform to say I have done this twice before AND I have raced several tris before.  This process is not new.  This race course is not new.  This drive is not new.  But my nervousness is not new either. 

Being a working athlete who tries to have a social outlet or two and who is a wife to an athlete and raising four fur babies, life gets crazy and racing makes me crazier (while adding a weird calm).  So for now in this moment I look back at where I was, I look in the mirror for where I am, and I look forward to the finish line.

A Look Back

A year ago I could not believe Patrick and I were going to embark on this journey.  I thought several times, “Who does an Ironman?” I answered myself with images of athletes made of steel with wings on their feet.  But I would soon find out the reality was people like me do Ironman races.  People like me step up to the line and take a flying leap off the dock.  People like me walk and run and walk through the darkness.  People like me break down.  People like me walk across Ironman finish lines.  I learned a year ago that my body and mind will follow my soul.  And that my soul when pushed with a challenge will push back harder. 

It is funny looking back, though, because what I remember the most about that day is only two moments and while I clearly see the finish line it is not that image that stands in my mind.  The first memory was of a volunteer at about the 25 mile mark.  I had started to run again after the aid station, and stopped to walk while yelling at my body.  She ran up behind me (I honestly though tot tell me that I was going the wrong way), wrapped her arm around my sweaty, aching shoulders, and said to me, “You keep going.  You are going to finish.  You are going to be an Ironman tonight.”  I cry just writing it.  This woman did not know me, she could not see my internal struggle, but she knew I needed her.  She walked a few more steps with me then told me to “go” to “finish” my race.  I started running again and while I would walk again and again to the finish line her words in that moment pushed me harder than I could have pushed myself.

The second moment, which stands out the most vivid to me, was seeing Patrick walk up from the crowd to me.  You see after you cross the line at an Ironman, they hand you a medal and hat, they usher you to a photo spot, they wrap a blanket around you and ask 100 times if you are okay, then a nice person writes down your times and hands it to you.  As she was writing down my time I was asking if she would look up Patrick’s information, she basically begged me to be patient and that she would.  She gave me his last check in, my heart sank.  Then a few moments later, after hugging my parents, I started to track him on my phone, no check in.  We waited with no news.  I fought everything in me to not go back out on the course.  Then there he was walking towards me.  I ran and hugged him, he smiled.  HE SMILED!!  I could tell he was disappointed and still trying to process, but he smiled.  In that moment everything that I had known about my husband was truer than it had ever been- he was and has always been the strongest person I know.  He put his heart into that race.  He pushed and pulled others.  He smiled.  The details of why he did not finish are hidden in the details of this race- long bike, short time, time adjustments, no adjustments to cut offs.  But it is not the details of what didn’t happen that night that is most important, what I hold tight in my heart was his smile.  Patrick showed there is comfort in pushing hard, there is achievement in accepting the challenge, and there is joy in knowing there will be other opportunities bigger than this one.  Patrick didn’t quit or give up.  He didn’t say it was too tough.  He didn’t moan over a broken rib or sore foot.  Instead he was there with his head high having pushed as long and as hard as the race details would allow him all with a smile.  Everyday I love him more and that day was no different.

These are the moments from that day that stand forward in my memory.  These are the moments which offer me calm and comfort.  These are the moments that I play over and over each night as I race my race before falling asleep. 

But these are moments of the past.  They have given me lessons but where am I now.

           

A Look In The Mirror

A year after racing IMCHOO for the first time I stand before the mirror and at first look I appear no different than what appeared here a year ago.  However, the subtle changes are there.  When I think about giving up on something- work, personal, or athletic- I step back and remember I alone pushed myself to that finish line.  It really does set in your head, “If I can do an Ironman, I can do this.”  I know there are bigger challenges out there but for me the experience of mind, body, and soul, all coming together for one day was inspiring and energizing. 

In the mirror I see someone who grew that day but continues to find new adventures.  In this year we raced Escape from Alcatraz, a race on our bucket list.  A race that seemed unrealistic to even get into, but there we stood on that boat, together.  This year we raced IM New Orleans 70.3.  The first long race that we did “mostly” together, I could not imagine having more fun on that course.  This year I finished a second full Iron distance in Ocala, with the support of Patrick, who was m run support late into the night.  This year we raced.  But we did so much more.  We got closer to family.  We forged new friendships.  We grew not only as athletes but as people.

So who is looking back at me in that mirror?  A person who through the sport of triathlon has taken a year of focusing on improving at the core- I am working on being better at being social, at being open to new people, and at being a better spouse.  I see a woman ready to take on challenges, even those day to day ones where we have to face ourselves.

On race day the woman in that mirror will be strong, strengthened by the love of family and friends. On race day the woman in the mirror will be humble, graced by the support of others.  On race day the woman in the mirror will be confident, empowered by the encouragements of the past year. 

On race day the woman in the mirror will be better than she was any day before.  

A Look At The Finish Line

For some a finish line is just another line, but for me it is more.  During the hours on the course I think about everything and nothing.   The finish line is a level of peace and accomplishment. I don’t know exactly what I will feel but I hope to see that line and feel the energy—I want to imprint that moment and take again that love!

This journey is long, I will trust in training but out there I will be lifted by love and support.

I am continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 

I've been blogging for a while now. If you enjoyed this one, you may enjoy others. Look though the Blog Archive on the right, for more of our experiences and random thoughts. 

Thank you for your ongoing support of our adventures.  

Please feel free to share our blog.