Sunday was the Labor Day Triathlon.  My redemption day!  The day where if the swim went well, it would provide me the proof that all this training I do, all the failures I experience and push past are worth it.  The day where I would finally know that I can do this sport, all three parts of it.  Well, that didn’t happen, and hanging my hat on the thought that it would be easier to accept failure if I expected failure, didn’t work either.

The morning of the race, I was feeling ok.  Kind of excited.  Excited that this might be the day I actually swim right.  I was hopeful but didn’t have high expectations because I know that what I feel before hitting the lake and what I feel in the lake are two very different things.  The one thing I did know, was that either way I could finish.   The distance somehow looked shorter to me this time.  It didn’t seem like that unachievable feat it has in the past.  When it was my wave’s turn, the gun went off and I was feeling good.  I started out in great form.  I was swimming freestyle and breathing every stroke.  I was about halfway to the first buoy when all the sudden, my chest felt tight and my head came popping out of the water.  It’s very hard to explain, but the only thing I can relate it to is how the body reacts when it thinks it’s in danger.  Instincts took over and I literally could not put my face back into that water.  I swam a bit like that, telling myself to just give it a minute.  I hit the first buoy and flipped onto my back.  I was hyperventilating again.  This time was different though.  As I swam backstroke I tried to take inventory of what was going on.  Was I afraid? No.  Was I physically drained like in the past? No.  Why couldn’t I get my breath to calm down?  Why couldn’t I do this?  I tried again and again.  I realized quickly that I was just wasting time.  I was going to be way behind as it was, so I had two choices.  Keep trying to swim it “right” or just go on my back and swim it faster.

I decided to go for faster, knowing that I definitely didn’t want to miss the cutoff.  That’s a move that today, the day after, I regret.  Time in that lake is limited to races.  You can’t swim there when there isn’t one.  I really wish I would have taken the time to figure it out.  I wish I would not have concerned myself with times, or what other people think.  I wish I could have stopped worrying about inconveniencing everyone else, holding people up and just took the time to figure me out.  I wish I would have taken the time to sit in that water, and find out what made my body react the way it does.  Instead I took the quick route, thinking that if I got the swim over with, I could enjoy the rest of the race.  I was dead wrong.

In the past bad swims, I spent the entire time trying to fight the instinct to quit.  All my energy went to just moving forward and completing the swim.  I always felt free after I got out of the water.  I was always exhausted, but relieved that I didn’t quit and ready to get to the fun parts.  I had planned this race no differently.  I told myself that whatever happened in the swim, I was going to enjoy the bike and run and really push myself.  I was going to leave it all on the course.  This time was different.  I got out of the water and felt nothing.  I walked into transition, didn’t even try to jog.  I couldn’t care less about the bike.  I got my gear on and walked my bike to the mount line.  I rode at a fine pace, I didn’t push myself nor did I just cruise along, but my head wasn’t in it.  I did my two loops, dismounted and walked my bike into transition.  Maybe the run would be better.  Maybe crossing the finish line would boost my spirits. Nah, who cares.  I am going to finish because that is what I paid to do and didn’t want it to be a waste.  I crossed the finish line and collected my medal.  I had hoped for some feeling of excitement, relief, something but all I felt was like getting home and getting a shower.  My head was throbbing,  and I felt like the day was a loss.  I just wanted to wrap it up and head home.  I decided to give myself the day to have a big old pity party.  As we were headed home, I decided to look at my times.  I pretty much expected this to fuel my pity party.  My times would be the barbecue grill on which I roasted myself.  Much to my surprise, I had my fastest race ever!….even in the swim.  My original race has always been my best up to this point and it took me 1:36.  This time, it took me 1:27, and that was with me moping into transitions and not giving it my all on the bike or run.  Huh,  not much fuel for the pity party anymore.

While I very much did have my pity party, I woke up the next day feeling so much better.  I started to realize that what I was afraid of most was feeling like I was just going to want to quit the sport.  I was worried that this would be the nail in the coffin and I would just feel like I was not cut out for it, like it wasn’t worth the effort.  I was afraid that I would just not want to do it anymore.  After all, how many times can you fail at something before you start to think that maybe the universe is trying to tell you it just isn’t for you?  During the swim, I felt empty and numb, but now I see that it wasn’t because I failed again, I was empty and numb because I am so used to pouring all my energy into not quitting that I didn’t know what to do this time. The thought of quitting never once entered my mind.  The thought that I could not finish never entered my mind.  Yes, I was really disappointed that it wasn’t going to be my inspiration for the next race, my confirmation that it was the right thing for me.  It wasn’t going to be my redemption.  I think that at some level I was waiting to have to fight those feelings of quitting for good.  I was going to have to convince myself to try to train for the next race.  I was going to have to convince myself that I could move forward.  I waited for all those things so I could pour my energy into that, and they never came.  I realize now, that I have improved leaps and bounds.  Not just because of the times I achieved, those were nice, but because I didn’t have to use energy to fight myself and keep from quitting anymore.  I didn’t know it at the time, I really wish I had.  I know I didn’t give the rest of that race my all, if I had, my times would have even been better.  I woke up the following day ready to train and determined to improve.  I’m looking forward to executing my coach’s plan, which is going to really kick my butt next week.  I’m excited for the next race and I know I’ll be ready, for even the swim.  I won’t quit, I won’t even think twice about it, I’m done with that.  This is what I want to do.  This is my sport.