I’ve just completed 16.8mi (that’s 6 laps of green lake, but who’s counting…) and feel good. Tight, but good
It’s thanks in large part to a shot of confidence from my new friend and comrade Jay, who is 47 and has completed six Ironman events (one just last week, in fact) and works with clients who have had strokes or brain injuries or other setbacks, had this to share:
Life is astonishingly short. Feel as alive as you can as often as you can. Be aware. This is an beautiful planet and we live in an incredible country and we are wildly fortunate to be able to do something as blatantly self-indulgent as training for an Ironman.
That, and reminding myself, that one need not be perfect, but we must continue to get better: evolve, adapt, repeat, if you will.
This week I was up late and up early which had me back on my heels, and aiming to do the same 14 miles as last week to ensure I didn’t lose any ground. But I knew after the first step that only 16.8 would make me feel like was making progress.
And so I sought inspiration from all the folks I saw at the lake: some limping, others using a walker, “because I can” was my mantra, followed quickly by “because so many others can’t,” e.g. my pal who’s husband is staring death in the face, or other friends sidelined by injury or even those who wish they could but have a household that simply isn’t set up to be conducive to this kind of training.
Reminding myself at every turn, I asked for this: the privilege to compete and spend my time accordingly. So I channeled this by smiling at every person I recognized, in an effort to convey just that: we are so fortunate!
Thanks to Bob, who reminded me that it's time to start *acting* like an Iron Man, Lisa who created a header for this blog (which I'll post shortly -- I promise) and to Scott, my training partner, who serves as an endless source of inspiration by somehow managing to fit all this in around a demanding job and homelife.
As my cycling coach and mentor Carl, who always said, “Don’t tell me about the million reasons you can’t do something, just give me the one reason you can.” In other words, it really *is* about giving that last 20% that sets us apart.