I won’t lie, it has been a rough two years. With my son being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, and the roller coaster that followed I must admit I stopped believing in myself as an athlete. I was in the midst of training for my first Ironman that was to take place in Chattanooga in 2016 when our lives were turned upside down. But just like we preach to our boys, I had to pick myself up and keep moving forward. That fateful night, when I was pulled off the run course in my first full Ironman Triathlon, I mentally gave up. I never give up on anything in life nor did I ever give up that night but I lost a part of myself when the three little letters were next to my name on the athlete list. DNF.
I mourned my DNF for a couple of days, then immediately jumped back into the game and set out to settle the score. I signed up for another Ironman. This time I was going to race a different course. Ironman Maryland seemed like a more suitable course, as it is flat, flat and more flat. But the catch is swimming in the Choptank River, and fighting the big headwinds on the bike. My mind was made up and I felt it was destiny to race almost exactly one year later from my DNF in Chattanooga.
As soon as I got my confirmation that I was “in” I was pumped, but as time marched on, I started to doubt myself. This has been one of the hottest summers that I can remember. Living in Florida, and the intense heat paired with super high humidity, was not a good mix for training. It has been brutal to say the least. Fatigue set in early in the months of training, and self-doubt started to take over. Why was I doing this again? When did riding on a road bike for five and six hours become fun? And not to mention running in the intense humidity and heat! 3 am wake up calls to start long rides in the dark while it was cooler got real old really fast.
I missed my family. I missed hanging out with our friends. For the second summer in a row, my life revolved around training. I started to question was it really worth it? To add to this crazy mix, my two younger sons were also training for their big race at USAT Nationals in Ohio. So between taking them to swim team practice at 6 am each day, and shuffling them to their own triathlon training sessions with their coach, I was mess! I am wife and mom first and foremost so my boys lives took center stage ahead of mine.
Training has not been what I envisioned it would be. Finding balance has been tough.
My breaking point came during a training camp in Cambridge, Maryland, the day we were out riding on the bike course. It was brutally hot, more of a dry heat hot. My lips were chapped, I was sucking down water like I have never done before, and I was riding alone. There were others out on the course, but I was a lone dove with the exception of others passing. Much of an Ironman race is mental. I know this and can say I usually have a good handle on this end of things, but on this day, I was literally losing it. Riding along on a long flat road in the middle of nowhere and hearing shot-gun shots going off, having someone fly by you in a truck then chucking coins out at you from the window as they passed, fighting a brutal head wind and being all alone is not my idea of fun. I missed a turn and only realized this when I was almost back to where I started. My 112 mile bike ride was cut short by my mere mistake and I only biked 70 miles of the course.
There is no crying in Ironman, but I cried like there was no tomorrow. I felt as if I was at the threshold of hell. I felt like a failure. I kept thinking to myself, how am I supposed to finish this race when I hadn’t even started yet? It was an awful moment but a pivotal one.
In my moment of questioning it all, a couple of texts came through on my phone. Messages of hope, reminding me how to persevere through the dark place I found myself in. No truer words were spoken by my 14-year-old type one diabetic son. He made me a paper to keep next to my bed, so when I was doubting it all, I only had to look at this:
This boy knows what it’s like to be in a bad place. I feel like he must feel defeated often, living with diabetes, giving himself injections all day long while pricking his finger countless times. Luke does not let diabetes define him, so how can I quit before I have even started? Someone very wise told me this at that moment:
“Suck it up buttercup! You’ve got this. Your body has got this. Get your mind in line. It hurts, it is a gut check but you have this. I know you can, you know you can! Just do it.”
Another great mantra that I will let you figure out, that another friend reminded me of:
“IOTB!”
This was the day I started believing again. I was hundreds of miles away from my kids, and friends but at this moment, they were there with me, sitting under a shady tree. Sometimes we only need to be reminded of the simple things. I had to go down this dark road to get to this spot where I am today.
I believe I can. I believe I am strong. I believe I am an overcomer.
I simply BELIEVE!
Organic Sport Chic 