I have a problem.
I wrote in my previous post that I am well-aware that there is nothing I could have accomplished without my incredible family. My parents will be the first to tell you that despite their unwavering support, my greatest weakness is my unwillingness to ask for help. I don’t like when other people see my shortcomings and am fairly convinced that the more people get to know me, the less they’ll want to do with me.
There is a distinct polarity about triathlon. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt stronger while simultaneously feeling so vulnerable. I have no choice but to lean upon others in order to grow, and because of them, I am able to do things of which I never dreamed. I hate these people not only because I love them, but because I need them.
I did the vast majority of my training for Augusta by myself. However, it was really special to have so many people that I know racing not just there but at other sites. When I wasn’t praying for mercy on my own soul, I found myself praying for them. Both the starting and finish line hugs were incredible.
Look, y’all. I had taken full Ironman off of my bucket list. 3M, The Mentor, Coachie – all three of them can attest to the fact that I was a hot mess all of August. Of course, as I was tapering I was looking to races for next year. “Maybe I could become an Ironman in another country! Switzerland! Austria! Mexico! Ich bin und Ironman. Soy un Ironman. Pretty sexy. All the crap leading up to it notwithstanding.
Then – I stopped to linger on the crap. I’ve seen my friends make giant sacrifices to earn the title “Ironman.” Each of them expresses their indebtedness to those around them. While one person earns the title, there is no one that does it without MAJOR help.
I need help. A lot of help. So I’m going where the people are.