Wake me up NOW its all over!

Feeling my way through the darkness

Guided by a beating heart

I can't tell where the journey will end

But I know where to start

A week ago today, at this time, I was heading out on the marathon portion of my Ironman Lake Tahoe experience.  As this week has passed I've read blogs, posts, threads, comments, etc about the day, the challenges, the experiences, etc.  It was cold.  It was hilly.  The day was long.  We are crazy. I finished. There are probably hundreds of race reports that can give you temperatures, percentage grades, elevation changes, interesting anecdotes about naked people outside changing tents, the impact of cold water on virile men, food faux pas, bathroom events, etc.  I saw it all, could tell it all, but have a different goal for this recap.

I have spent most of the week thinking about why I signed up in the first place, what it meant to me and why I really have no need to tackle that distance again for a long time--maybe ever.  There are three circumstances under which I can see doing it again..but they are very specific and very concise and better saved for another discussion.

So why?  Why sign up for a fifteen hour day of exercise?  Yes....a day of exercise.  To call it a race, unless you are a pro who's paycheck depends on it or an elite who stands a chances of being tapped for a "no" expense paid trip to Hawaii, is a bit of a stretch.  For every athlete that stepped up to the beach to enter the water on that brisk day, there is a unique and individual reason for doing such a thing.

For me,  it was to remember how tough I am and that perseverance was not something I lost in the divorce.  To remember that I could once again start something and follow it through to completion--a skill I felt I had lost a bit in the last two years.  To trust in myself again and my abilities.  A friend and fellow athlete messaged me prior to the race after reading a post or blog entry I made and asked me..."how could you doubt what a badass you are Jeanne Jones?"  Perhaps at one time I believed I was...although badass probably not a term I would choose. But I had a confidence about my abilities, my skills, what I offered in this world and to my family that was fairly unflappable.  I missed that feeling and wondered where it went.  Perhaps it fades after a process in which everything you knew to be certain or unshakable gets shook and all that you banked on for much of your lifetime (twenty four years) was no longer the same.  It rattled things up a bit and with it my sense of my own "badass"edness dissipated.  So....instead of reading a self help book I decided to do an Ironman.  Not because of the day itself, but because I knew in order to show up at the starting line, the work I would have to do to get there would take me on a return trip to "badass".

I also had a desire to reunite with a community that I had felt separated from--the Fort Worth triathlon community.  After spending years establishing myself as a coach and athlete over in Dallas, I wanted to come "home".  I left my old triathlon world in June of 2012 (ironically about the same time I signed up for Ironman Lake Tahoe) and purposefully went looking for a group I could just train with, be social with and recapture my love of the sport and the lifestyle.  Never to compare HR files, Power outputs, nutrition logs, or any of the metrics that had been ingrained in all I did....but to just train.  To swim for the love of it, ride with friends and run because it made me feel free.  I found a mosaic of training partners--most of whom were NOT triathletes or Ironmen but found encouragement and progress along the path from all.  I did more yoga than weights, had one long bike ride at 90 mi, I only went to Mount Scott once and I NEVER ran longer than ninety minutes--and that I only did twice.  I played racquetball and tennis, skied and went tubing on a boat.  I ate good food, drank great wine and enjoyed myself along the way.  And yet....I finished...and finished strong. Perhaps not fast, but this was never about fast.  And while I only coached one other IMLT athlete (who I must add also finished..and finished strong) I watched my friends beat themselves to a pulp with training, riding, climbing, running, traveling in a way I knew wasn't necessary....but this wasn't about that either.  ;) They didn't ask and I wasn't offering...just making my own journey.   I had trust and comfort in what I knew to be true about training, taught to me by my first coach and echoed in the methods of my current coach and utilized in the way I coach my athletes.  With that trust and faith came the ability to enjoy the process and the people I brought along the way with me and keep the rest of my life in balance:  time for Abby and Aidan, Cass, family, friends and work.

My "whys" carried me through a challenging day but I never felt like I was wrapped up in the overall difficulty.  I took it step by step, stage by stage, probably leaving a fair amount of my emotional uncertainty along the way out there on the course.  With each level accomplished I felt stronger and stronger. I had a check list that I kept ticking through:  1) Survived the swim (holy shit...who gets in the water in 30 degree weather surrounded by snow capped mountains), 2) survived loop one on the bike (Martis Camp-the "unknown" variable sucked..no other way to put it), 3) survived the second loop on the bike (kind of like the movie Groundhog's Day), 4) made the bike cut off and onto the run 5) first half of marathon done...by 8pm.  It was at that moment that I knew, in my heart and the core of all that I am that I would be an Ironman finisher that day.  I had over four hours to finish the event and was running at about a 10min pace--so really only needed about 2:15 hrs.  Even if I slowed down and chatted with friends along the course, even as I stopped and hugged my kids and my mom and dad, even as I danced Gangham Style with the volunteers at the aid stations(and YES, I did dance).....I was going to finish.   And at that moment, I remembered.....I am a badass!  The last thirteen miles were the freest I have felt in three years---free from pain, doubt, fear, regret, uncertainty.....all of it.  I could just be me.  I was Just Jeanne.

I crossed the finish line triumphant--hearing Mike Reilly shout my name--into the arms of my children who put my finisher medal around my neck.  I got a hug and a kiss from my father who's eyes were misty with tears of pride and relief.  I hugged my mom who was equally teary but tried to hide it behind her camera as she snapped countless photos.  Sure I was an Ironman...but more importantly, came a return of all my confidences in me and what I still have left to do in this world in this lifetime.  I know...a lot for just one race, but really three years in the making and part of the process.  Mission accomplished.

Some people sign up to do something "hard"--I don't know that I can say it was "hard"  The course was difficult and challenging, but not "hard".  I consider myself pretty lucky that I really don't have an intimate relationship with what is "hard".   Failed relationships, lost friendships, job challenges, financial "pinches", disappointments, humiliating circumstances.... these things are not "hard".   Sorry to be the balloon buster....but they aren't.  Burying a loved one who is the father of your children...that is hard.  Losing a child...that is hard.  Sending your spouse, sibling, child or friend off to war to defend our country...that is hard.  Watching someone you care about struggle through cancer...that is hard.  We exercised for a day, had help along the way from volunteers (mostly strangers) and got a t-shirt, a hat and a medal at the end.  I am super proud of my accomplishment but think part of why I made it through the day was I never got wrapped up in it being "hard".  But hey....that's just me. As I sit and type that, I am overwhelmed with the thought of that's just life...you keep putting one foot forward, despite not feeling like going on, you just do.  Your life isn't hard...its just your life!

So tomorrow starts the next chapter---lots to do:  get a job, wrap up some house projects, resume my healthy lifestyle, share it with my kids, Cass, his girls, my friends and family.  I feel different.  I feel lighter.  I feel more peaceful.  We can do anything, handle anything and accomplish anything.  Its just in how we look at it and how little we decide its "hard".

I miss Michael Jordan....JUST DO IT!!!

Anyone up for a bike ride--just for fun?

I tried carrying the weight of the world

But I only have two hands

Hope I get the chance to travel the world

But I don't have any plans

Wish that I could stay forever this young

Not afraid to close my eyes

Life's a game made for everyone

And LOVE is the prize

I CAN

I still remember when I first learned about Ironman and learned about Team Hoyt almost 10 years ago....I decided to go back this morning and watch the first video I ever saw of this amazing team.   I find it inspiring (who wouldn't) but also serves as a reminder as I enter these final days before the race. That remembrance is that 'I CAN".  I can do all things...... Its been five (5) years since I tackled Ironman and can say this time around was very different.  Motivated by different goals, different set up support networks, different ability to focus on the work at hand....and yet somehow, race day is still upon me and whether or not I think I am ready...its time to start believing that I am and that I CAN.  

To say I love my kids is the world's greatest understatement....ever.  They are the foundation of just about everything I do.  And while I love them equally, they each have brought to my life lessons they may or may not even realize, lessons about how we live and what is possible.  I hope I have taught them a little along the way as well, and like Dick Hoyt, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for them.    

Abigail is my lesson of unending courage--she's braver than she knows.  She is braver than most of the world knows.  Of course, I suppose it started as I watched her navigate her illness (for those who don't know-she was diagnosed with MD at the age of six (6)--was told she may not see her 15th bday)-- doctor visits, hospital stays, medications, needles, biopsies, tests, etc.  Always a smile...even through those chubby cushingoid cheeks as the effects of her medications took their toll on her little body...but always a smile.  And a gratitude...as she watched her dear friend struggle with even more serious issues she would often comment, "Mommy....aren't we so lucky!"  

"Yes, Abby.  We are." 

Even today, as clearly that one doctor was wrong--she'll be 16 in January, she exudes an outer strength that I know overcomes her inner fear.  She pushes forward.  Hits it head on.  Always a smile--even if its manufactured until an authentic one shows up.  I take from her courage because I have fear and trepidation about the race.  I worry about the temperature, the course, my ability, the time cut offs....all of it.  Fearful.  But, I look at Abby, I remember what courage and strength look like and I say...'I CAN' As we were booking our flights and lodging for Tahoe, she sat by my side, excited about the trip (and a couple days off school!) and said, with that same childish innocence I saw when she was six, "Mom...aren't we lucky!"

"Yes, Abby...we are."

Aidan teaches me the lessons of laughter and levity.  She literally lights up a room when she bounces in--and I do mean bounce.  She is carefree, energetic and kind.   She defines "Carpe Diem"!  I have been told by many she is my mini-me and I'm never more aware than when the highs switch to lows and then back again.  I watch (sometimes in frustration) and think....why would you be down or low at a time like this--we have so much to be thankful for....just ask your sister!  LOL.  But I do the same....so I learn through observation.  She has struggled lately with the change of school, difficulty in course work, returning to routine after summer, etc. but more often than not can find the joy in the things she does.  I've been a bit grumpy lately as well on many fronts.  Grumpy comes from worry and worry causes fluctuations in the optimistic outlook we all strive for....and I seem to spend more time on worry, stress and fear than an Aidan-like "in the moment" outlook.  I forget the "fun"--sometimes its easy to do.  And it never feels good when she reminds me, "I'm not always the fun Mom"!  So as I watch her....I remember to find mine!  I do triathlon because it is fun.  Maybe not all the time (what is) but more enjoyment than anything else....so FUN!  I do this because I CAN!  

My girls will be with me on race day, along with my parents and my Iron-Angel Heidi Moore! Without them there, it would be pointless.  And while Ironman has changed the rules about the finisher chute and they can no longer cross the finish line with me, I will make sure they know we all crossed it together in spirit---because when we are together, there is nothing the three of us CANNOT do--and I want them to remember it as well.  

This Ironman started out with the plan of being my "comeback" race.  LOL....comeback from what I'm not really sure...comeback from derailment, comeback from laziness, comeback from sadness, comeback from ....... ???  I thought I would return to the athletic shape I was in when I raced 06-08.  I thought I would log every calorie, every mile, every power file, every swim, bike, run I put out there.  I didn't--maybe too much stress, too little time, too much Darryl-ing,  but what I did accomplish was return to my love of the sport, my love of the people in it (well most of them), and my love of pushing my limits to remind me that there is very little I CANNOT do....and a whole big world of things I CAN do.  Its one day.  Its one race.  Its one reminder that in all things...I CAN.