Only Human

This post has been awhile in the making. It’s easy for me to sit down and write a race report or a week recap for training. It’s factual. It follows a nice linear progression and tells you exactly what happened. It’s also predictable for the most part - for multisport there was a swim (we hope) a bike, a run, and this year....probably a train.

It also tells a pretty similar story if you know me at all. Namely, I swam comfortably, but not fast, didn’t bike hard enough, and swooped in for the PR or win in the run (That's not a humble brag,  I can't believe I just typed that.  Hello 2022.) Sometimes there’s an element of surprise in there, like racing on the surface of the sun or in a deluge (especially if Ken shows up), but it’s usually a nice easy, fun read, like a beach novel, that’s
cozy and you can smile at the end, knowing our hero (again, always me) pulled it off.

I’m still working on those stories now that it’s time to plan for 2023. There’s the element of looking at the expected plot and keeping the bits you like and probing at the pitfalls to see if you can’t minimize or eliminate them to get to an even better outcome.  (Yeah fine, you can teach me how to swim.  Who actually wants to?) I am so excited to do that. 

But this one’s not a race report. It’s a life story. And while I am getting pretty good at looking at my athletic life through an objective lens, I’m not always the best at it when it comes to my personal life. 

I took a few days off last week to figure some stuff out. I’ve been feeling pretty crappy the past few weeks and it was time to figure out a way to get beyond it. It’s not abnormal for these sorts of feelings to get to me around this time of year…summer is over, the lighthearted play is winding down, it gets dreary, and the back-to-school doldrums settle in (yes, this is a thing even as a grown up that’s not in the education setting).

 Fall running is amazing, but it’s not the same as multisport race season in the summer. Goals are discussed for 2023 but still far away and harder to get enthused by. The dirty talk of “off season” comes into conversations (not that I listen, I’m not that bright). Play dates are harder to come by. Everyone, including myself, seems to be caught in adulting and has less time to enjoy life....and almost seems to a point where they seem to enjoy bitching about it.  Including me.  It's toxic.  And annoying.  And so draining.  

 I couldn’t really figure it out.  I looked back to last year - well, it appears I signed up for a race in October. Look at that.  And the year before...well, that was COVID so we don't count that.  And I can't really remember life in BC (that's Before Covid) except I'm positive it was hella more fun, or at least my rose-colored glasses tell me so.  Hindsight is so....oh we did not fucking go there.

Well, I've already signed up for a race this fall, so that wasn't it.  (Yeah, for those of you that don't follow this train wreck in person, Greg gifted me entry to the Philly marathon for my 40th birthday - on November 20.  Either he wants me to BQ or die - jury is still out, but I'm gonna go down swinging for the former!).  There's only so many times you can invent a midlife crisis (even though I just hit that big 40), so I stepped away from the hair dye, resisted the urge to cut some bangs, and just took some time alone.  Some of it was filled with ice cream.  Some of it with sunshiny or rainy miles.  And admittedly, quite a bit with sad ass old songs from the 90s that I listened to while whining about boys in my teen years, complete with a couple of good cry fests.  I'm not sure what I was looking for....or my way out of.  To be honest, I'm still not so sure.

I think part of it is this concept of reaching.  The past few years have taught me that there really is no limit for what I want - there might be stumbles along the way, but as I keep dreaming up new dreams and trying new things, it's really easy to look back and see the accomplishments and overlook the jagged path to success.  I wasn't necessary full of amazing days "back then" but it sure seems like it sometimes.  And I'm not afraid of stumbling, or failing.  But I do sometimes wonder what the definition of failure is, or how many times I'm willing to either try to learn the lesson or fall flat on my face again....and if I can keep dealing with that pain. 

I think you have to ask yourself how many times you’re willing to put yourself out there, unabashedly, and be the
person you are without apologies. Whether it's trying a new skill, shooting for a goal, being around new people, or anything else. To jump headfirst into life with no reservations and put yourself out there knowing it might be amazing but also knowing you might just totally fall on your face, and hoping you have the courage to go to bat again when that inevitably happens. 

And if you do, does that mean you should relearn a lesson and do it differently next time? Or do you stand up, dust off, and be the best you that you can be all over again without losing those parts of you that make you the person you are? These were some serious hard questions to answer - and even harder while reminding myself that I can't control anyone's actions but my own.  Lately, to be honest... I feel like the only place I'm killin' it is on the race course - which, of course, makes those race reports even easier to write.  But what about the rest of my life - about work, about my kids, about my family, about my friends?  I don't know.  There's been so much in turmoil lately - some of it I am a part of, some of it I'm a bystander, and some of it I'm the person they turn to in order to fix it.

It's tough.  And it's even tougher for me to step back and say - what do I want?  Is this something that I can live with the way it is long term?  And am I doing what I can do on my end to either help the situation or walk in the best path - even if that means walking away?  

I don't know all the answers, but I am still about that balance.  And I'm coming to terms with the fact that maybe sometimes I don't need to know all the answers and that some of these things are around so that I can either learn from them, walk away from them, or use them to appreciate the really good areas in my life, knowing that there always will be areas in your life that fall below the "line of suck". 

This morning I went out for a run (because that's news for you, right?)  It's getting chilly out, so even though I am still full on in my protest of pants (I wore shorts, relax), I did wear a long-sleeved shirt.  It was from Musselman 2009 - a race I'll never forget.  On paper, I have never DNFed (did not finish) a race - but in my mind, this race was about as close as a failure as you can get.  I got kicked in the head during the swim and got super dizzy, floundering my way for a mile before they pulled me out with .2 miles in the swim to go.  I sat in medical for 20 minutes, crying, when the RD at the time came over and asked me if I was okay.  Physically, I was fine.  Mentally, I was absolutely crushed.  He got down on my level and said - go bike.  go run.  Do it for you.  Do not cross the finish line - I can't count you - but YOU will have known you've done it.

And so I did.  With my slowest time by an hour, I went and rode the bike.  I ran the run.  And I did not care one iota what those results said - in my mind, it counted.  I might be a DNF but I was going to dust myself off and keep fucking going.  When I got to the finish line, that same RD was there and I stopped two feet short of the line and started to go around it.  He looked me dead in the eye and said - YOU did this.  Cross it. You are a Musselman.  So I did.  And after the race, during awards, he called me out by name for being so determined and I found myself with a brand new $600 wetsuit.  A day - and a race - and a lesson -  I'll never forget.  There's always a way.  Even if it looks bleak.  Even if it isn't what you wanted, or what you expected.  

The shirt is threadbare.  It's seen season after season of hard things and days that I did not want to get out of bed and "face the thing".  I'll never get rid of it.  And this morning, as I ran pre-dawn to start my absolutely shitty day full of meetings and hard things, I got those miles in, and I did them well.  And I reminded myself that I don't need to figure it out all right now.  I just need to remember where I've come from and how back in 2009- I would kill to be where I am now.  And when I'm struggling and not sure about life, sometimes the answer is - just that one step.  Just that one text.  Just that one reach out to a friend who ends up listening to me cry like a baby about all of it. (Thank you, by the way, friend - in a world where I am usually the rock...I needed you.  More than you will ever know).  Just that one text to a friend who needs that from me.

Perspective. Imperfection. And the grace to admit that it's not all wrapped up with a pretty bow - sometimes it's a grey shirt that reminds you that you have made it through every hard thing so far.  And you will.  One step at a time.