Keeping the Sabbath

I try to rest on most Sundays. I tend to reserve that day for some church, visiting my hospice patients, and some quiet time with my family. However, this past Sunday it was time for me to attempt my first postpartum triathlon. This was triathlon #9 for me, but #1 after giving birth, losing 70 pounds and reminding my body what it was like to swim, bike and run in succession.

I have fallen in love with triathlons. This is funny because I am not athletic. I am not a fast swimmer or runner, and I am kind of a clueless biker (read on...). I am also the most uncompetitive person on Earth. I don't get into arguments or debates. I hate games and any sport that involves a team or a ball. So how can it be that the training and racing are worth it? Because I love to push limits. I love to think about what my body and mind probably cannot do, and then do it. ALL of our limits are self-made. If you open your eyes to see the ordinary people around us breaking their limits every day, you would agree. Take 7 minutes to watch Team Hoyt here, and I promise you will never forget what you see.

Also, triathlons scare the crap out of me and I try to do as many things that scare me as possible. Again, limit pushing. Trust me, I wish that simple breathing and working and consuming would be enough for me, but I was mis-wired while being built. I get a lot of Wows! about doing these things that scare me, like triathlons and visiting the dying, but I get a lot more you are a freak looks and comments. Oh well. I do not do these things to impress anyone or reserve some sort of comfy spot in an afterlife that I could care less about. It is this life that I am supposed to love, and these things remind me how to love it well. I promise, after I complete the Ironman, I will take up knitting.

Here is my triathlon recap:

Swimming is the worst part for me. I love to swim in a pool, but triathlons are a bit different. This video clip does not exaggerate a bit. I was kicked and tripped as I entered the cold, murky water of Lake Erie, and when I began to actually swim I was quickly reminded what that water tasted like. Imagine dishwater that has been sitting around for two weeks. So, I spent most of the swim calming myself down because my only other choice was drowning or clinging to the nearest rock. About half-way through the swim I realized I was okay. This is what I trained for! I kept it strong and steady, and I was so proud.

Biking is usually the part I love. I have a brand new, beautiful bike this year. I know nothing about this bike. My faithful readers (both of you) know that I had a few minor bike issues last weekend during the MS 150. I failed to do an appropriate bike check before this race, and this resulted in what felt like riding through quicksand. For 14.3 miles. I was upset for a minute because I knew there was something wrong that I did not know how to fix. I now know that it was something simple, of course. There must have been something in that lake water that caused me to shift gears (ha, ha) mentally. I started thinking that this wasn't so bad...true, I was putting about 4 times the effort into this biking, and I was now WAY behind the field and would probably finish last, but there was so much that was going right. I was doing triathlons again. I survived the swim. The sun was coming out. I was going to see my daughter and husband later. My best friend from New York was visiting and waiting for me at the finish line.
My quads and calves were bursting at the seams, but I grunted onward.

I was happy to re rack my bike and put on my shoes for the 5K run. I forgot that legs don't like to run after biking. Especially injured legs (see MS 150 post). By this time, I was way behind and most of the runners were running in the opposite direction, towards the finish line. No problem. I was only out there for me anyway, so I did the only thing I really can do well: smile like an idiot and breathlessly cheer people on as they ran past me.

My friends were all waiting at the finish for me. Michelle (super triathlete), Brian (rookie triathlete) and Meredith (faithful supporter from New York).

It is so easy to have the body or your equipment fail you during a triathlon. I feel so lucky that I was able to draw on an important lesson from a great teacher, Dewitt Jones. Celebrate what is right with the world instead of focusing on what is wrong.

Did I come in last? I am not sure, I have not even thought to check the race results yet.
In the game of learning how to reframe circumstances to see them differently as a way to push my limits, I blew away the competition...my attitude.