Perspective

In 72 hours, I'll be lined up on the beach getting ready to start my Timberman 70.3 experience. I'm hoping I'll be excited. I'm hoping I can turn Beath Mode On. I'm not even worried about Sylvia (the negative voice that lives in my head), because I realized this week she is just a peon in a much larger, more sinister network whose mission it is to sabotage me, destroy me, kill me. If I didn't have somewhere to be on Sunday, I'd check myself into the loony bin. It's that bad.

Here's what I will repeat to myself on Sunday:

Don't Despair.
(Thank the negative voices in my head for sharing) and Do It Anyway.
Just Keep Moving Forward (a reminder that I'm allowing race officials to pull me off the course, but I'm not allowed to pull myself off the course.)

I will not compare myself to other athletes who will be finished with the entire race before I am off the bike. I will rejoice in the fact that I am all alone out there on the course. I will accept that I'm not an athlete, I'm a blogger who has been sent on assignment to participate in something that is way beyond my comfort zone.

That all might sound really depressing and counter-productive. I had really inspiring visions for my last triathlon, and I ended up dropping out because reality didn't live up to my expectations. I'm preparing for reality to suck, and I'm preparing to not despair, and to do it anyway, and to just keep moving forward.

Above all, I need to be grateful -- grateful that I am able to do this, no matter how slow, and no matter how complete. 4 years ago it was not even a question. My idea of a triathlon was chips, pizza, and ice cream. I have no problem remembering who I was. If anything, I need to be reminded that that's not who I still am.

Summer of 2009 & Summer of 2013

My fear isn't that I won't finish. My fear is that I will finish, because then who am I? I suppose I'll be the same person, but one who did something difficult for 8 hours one day. I guess it's really not that big a deal after all.