Don't call it a comeback

The great thing about quotes in the form of internet memes is that you can read the same thing over and over again but think it's new information just because there's new font or a different background photo. That's sort of how it feels to live in my brain. I often have No Shit Epiphanies that I quickly come to realize are common sense, and/or a quote from Abraham Lincoln. (Did you know that most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be? True story, honestly.)

For the past few days, I have been slowly processing my DNF at Mass State, and what that means for the Timberman 70.3 half ironman triathlon which is now just one month away. I've been on a roller coaster of emotions, ranging from complete clarity and serenity to preemptive devastation that I would NOT be doing it. Then when I'd think I WOULD do it, I felt everything ranging from anticipation and a bold sense of commitment, to absolute fear, self-doubt and insecurity. There were plenty of lessons learned from my DNF, and I've had a lot of epiphanies in the days since, and I think all of them already exist as internet memes. I stole alot of them from facebook, and oddly enough, I had previously "liked" almost all of them. It's a little like groundhog day up in this blog, but you probably already knew that. Big Ben, kids. Parliament.

The conclusion I came to about my DNF was that it was all mental (duh.)  

In this case, my mind only quit once, and my body was like "Ok!" I basically just threw a little hissy fit because I was dead last (p.s. I wasn't) and decided I wasn't having fun. Well, guess what?

One of the reasons that I let my mind get in the way is because I was comparing myself to everyone else. I let pre-race facebook comments from superstar triathletes psych me out. I looked around at who else was competing and I decided I didn't belong there. That's all bullshit, but I let it get to me.

I had never, and still have never, done an olympic distance triathlon. If I had completed the race, it would have been one of my biggest accomplishments to date, and I robbed myself of that because instead of measuring my own progress, I was measuring the distance between myself and the leaders and telling myself I wasn't good enough to be doing this.

So what if I was dead last? An email from my coach put it into perspective for me. She said, "Nobody looks back on, oooooh, say…Timberman and says 'remember in 2013 when Beth took 900th place and so-and-so was 1st?' Nope. When everyone looks back on the race its always like 'Remember how hard that day was and how we kicked butt?' Last place, first place, DNF….who cares. It's the process and how we deal with the ups and downs that matters!" The woman is a genius, I tell ya. 

So this all sounds like it's a clear cut decision, right? Not exactly. I had plenty of people in the opposite camp telling me that I shouldn't do it -- the leader of those voices was my own. 

As I mentioned, I had complete clarity and serenity when I decided I wasn't going to do Timberman. Suddenly I was sleeping better, eating better, imagining my social life was better. It was great! But the funny thing was, when anyone else said I shouldn't do it, I started to feel like John Locke.

But I also felt that same defiance when anyone told me to buck up and get back on the horse tomorrow (no one actually used those words. I'm not friends with any 70-year old cowboys.) One of my cousins sent me this meme...

...and I told her that the only thing about that image that resonated with me was the abandoned bicycle. Then she wisely said that maybe it wasn't that I reached my limit, it was that I learned that this isn't my thing. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Clarity and serenity flooded in, the stars aligned, the message was clear! Until I woke up the next morning and really felt like going for a bike ride.

At one point I decided that I would continue to do triathlons, but maybe I didn't need to do a half ironman distance. Nothing wrong with a Sprint distance! When I did my first sprint distance triathlon which was just last September, you might have thought I did a half ironman distance by the way I strutted around afterwards, feeling like a rockstar. Yes, I'd just do a sprint. I'd change my registration from the half ironman on Sunday to the sprint distance on Saturday. Then I imagined how I might feel on Sunday, knowing that I trained for the half ironman distance, and that my training hadn't been derailed at all. I wasn't injured. I was capable of doing the distance. Would I feel the same way I feel now, that I had robbed myself of an opportunity to try to do something great, just because my mind said I couldn't do it?

Thinking back to what my coach had written, I don't want my legacy to be, "Remember in 2013 when you trained for the Timberman half ironman and then didn't do it?" No, that is not how I want this story to end. I say that with absolute clarity. The serenity isn't quite there yet, but I'm working on it, one day at a time.