Living the Life Phase 1 - Mission Accomplished

01 Oct 2009

6 AM…I try to shake the cobwebs out of my head as I grab my transition bag out of the van so that I can catch a quick shuttle to set up my gear before the race. Aside from the several thousand triathletes making their way to the city, like ants following a food trail, the city is quiet and unsuspecting. As I step onto the bus, I look into the eyes of a few fellow racers and notice that we’re all nervous, but too proud to show it…the thousand yard stare prevails.

It’s 6:45 AM and I’m trying to make sure I’ve got everything I need. From my last experience with this distance, I know I’ll be starving by afternoon, but my slowly firing synapses are making it hard for me to ration my food and gels properly. Should I put the gels in my jersey pocket so I won’t forget them, or should I just place them next to my shoes? Too many decisions to make, especially for a race day! To make matters worse, the announcer won’t stop telling me that I need to hurry up and get to the river. “Shut up, I hear ya already” I say, half jokingly, but the reality is that I’m already nervous enough without his help and the constant pre-race chatter always ups the ante.

7:30 AM now and they just played the star spangled banner, I’m zipping up my wetsuit and getting ready to jump into a 69 degree river, that is full of debris and run off from last night’s rain. I’ve been here before, I know what this feels like, but every time feels like a brand new experience. Still, this is why I’ve been training all spring and summer. I’m as ready now as I’ve ever been. There is a lot more than a few months of training riding on this experience…there’s a part of me that feels that I’ve been building up to this since I’ve been born…

I grew up full of hopes and aspirations. I spent most of my days listening to Smashing Pumpkins or Pearl Jam, trying to find my own place in this world. I knew I’d do something special, I just didn’t know how long it would take. I was all set to tackle the world, but then, when I hit my 20’s, something happened. The world beat me down and I soon lost hope of achieving my dreams. I learned to just be satisfied with making a living and having a place to live…noble goals if you’ve never had that chance, but still not what I had hoped for…not what many of us have.

I spent ten long years trying to rediscover my identity…trying to regain my courage and dare to dream. For ten long years I looked long and hard into my soul, hoping to find a spark that would light up mankind…but it had to start with me. It wasn’t until I turned 29 that I found that spark. Something lit up in me and at the time I didn’t see it, but looking back I can watch the entire drama unfold. It started with a friend that led me to start running. From there, I started changing my life for the better. The fear was gone and I felt like I could take on the world. That’s when I remembered my dream of becoming a triathlete, more specifically, an Ironman.

Whooosh!

The gun goes off and I’m swimming down the Savannah River, trying to dodge a few hundred pairs of hands and feet as I swim towards the 1.2 mile finish. From there, I’ll try to avoid falling over as I slip out of my wetsuit and get my wobbly legs strong enough to climb on the bike for 56 miles of 80-90 RPM’s at around 22 miles per hour. From time to time, I hear the sound of another rider coming from behind, but most of the time I try to focus on not tuning out and making sure I drink often and eat before I get tired. Part of me wants to yell “Mdot baby!” (the nickname for the Ironman logo), but the other part of me realizes I might scare my fellow riders with such an outburst.

I’m watching my Garmin slowly tick towards 56, and as I get close I start to feel a rush of excitement at being so close to the end. As we ride down the street to the bike racks, the lines of cheering spectators give me goosebumps and looking at my time I’m feeling great about my potential to end the day on a high note. I make my way through the 13.1 miles of downtown Augusta, full of friends, family, and local residents that are having just as much fun watching as we are racing. The vibe is beyond energetic and those sponges bathed in ice water they have at the water points are oh so wonderful. As I make my way to the finish, I hear a familiar “go daddy,” and I’m flooded with emotion. Sure, I feel battered and broken, but now I know what accomplishment feels like.

The Epilogue

First, here’s the truth: I’m not an Ironman…at least not yet. But I’ve come a long way from buying my first road bike. Besides, that’s not what phase 1 is about. Phase 1 is about getting off the ground running and making significant progress towards your goals. My goal is to make Kona (Ironman Championships in Hawaii), but that is going to take me years of hard work. But, the key there is that I’ve already decided that I’m going to do it. You know what the funny part is? It seems that the more goals I set for myself and make public, the more the naysayers come out and tell me that I’m crazy. To think that trying to live the life that you design could be so offensive to others! How dare we dream!

I’m going to spend the next week chilling out and enjoying my 5:39:38 Half Ironman achievement. The competitive nature in me is eyeing a better time next spring in Orlando, but for now I’m going to rest easy having capped off one of the best years of my life with a strong finish in Augusta. I’ve still got a lot of work to do for you…on this blog, in my business, and as an athlete, but we’ll get there.

As for you, I hope that you can find some sort of inspiration from my story. My Ironman is your book deal, home based business, or first marathon. Our lives don’t have to match line for line, but I wanted to show you that you can go out and hunt down your goals. Write down your bucket list and go after it. They won’t make it easy, and there are times when you’ll have to be tireless, but you can have anything that you want badly enough. I hope we can all go out and take on the world together. What a mighty Army we would be.