I was listening to a podcast while walking Hera the other day, and the main guest was a triathlete.  I don’t remember who it was, but during the podcast he stated that he felt one of the most important things was to “know your why.”  He said that without knowing the why, you may not really find the “how.”  By that, he meant that if he didn’t have his “why” in the back of his mind, then he could not push himself as hard.  He could not accomplish his goals without knowing why they were his goals.  It got me to thinking about my own reasons for why I do a lot of the things that I do.  Some are simple and very easy.  I work, for example, to make money and pay the bills.  I try to do the right thing to set a good example for my son.  I try to eat healthy because it makes me feel better.  Other things are a little more difficult, which really surprised me.

I excitedly asked myself to list my “why” for training and doing triathlon and I didn’t really have the amazing gut response I thought I had inside.  I really didn’t know.  What does that mean? I asked myself.  It would be easy to say that I do it because I want to show my son that he can do anything he puts his mind to.  It would be easy to say that I was bitten by the bug and have such a passion for this that I cannot imagine life without it.  Those would be lies.  The truth is, I’m really not sure there is that one “aha-why” I do this.  That freaked me out a little.  I kept harping on this in my own mind.  Why don’t I have a “why”?  What does that mean?  Is that bad?  Then I got this crappy cold.

I have been sick for weeks, and finally went to the doctor.  During the exam, he asked if I exercise regularly as part of the questioning they do, to which I answered yes.  “What do you do?”  He asked.  “For work?”  I responded, thinking we moved on to another question.  “No, for exercise,” he said.  I told him that I mostly do triathlon and strength training right now.  “How much?” was his next question.  Six days a week, was my response.  He gave a hmph sound and plopped the thermometer in my mouth.  After the exam, he told me I needed a prescription and could fill it there.  Then he turned to me and said… “You say this cold won’t go, have you rested?”  I told him I rested a couple days but started back as soon as I felt better but the cold just kept coming back.  He proceeded to tell me to stop training until I felt good for at least 2-3 days.  He also said that I have some room in my BMI and I should eat a little more to help get myself better, and then said “you love that, huh?”  I said yeah, and left his office.  It got me thinking about the whole “why” thing again.  Would I really say I love it?  Is that why?….

No.  Damn, I still don’t know why I do it, but I do know this….. It does make me happy.  I took those days off, eagerly awaiting feeling better so I could work out.  I was miserable.  Maybe because I was sick, but it felt like it was because I was not training.  My body wanted to sweat every morning, but I slept in.  My body wanted to move, but I laid on the couch.  My stomach wanted my primal shake, and fuel but I ate carbs and garbage.  Days passed and I felt a little better, but still not what I would call good.  I was feeling really low and having a pity party for myself.  I shared with Darin that I was totally annoyed because I felt like I was not getting anywhere and was miserable.  He told me to work out if I thought it would make me happy.  I told him I didn’t want to risk getting so sick that I would end up having to take even more time off.  I sat it out the next day, and again was miserable.  I decided that was it.  Tomorrow, I was going for a run, regardless of how I felt.

The next morning, I was wide awake at 4 am, excited to get going.  I wanted to wait for some light so I updated my training plan and then went out for a run.  It was cool out, and seemingly the perfect weather.  That was, until it started raining.  Most of the run was that misty rain that wets you just enough to make it  little uncomfortable but not enough to stop and turn back.  Then came the sun showers and I got pretty wet.  Well, I thought, I may have just sealed my fate and am gonna get pneumonia or something.  I didn’t care in that moment, I felt so good.  I had a hard time staying at the slow pace on my training calendar, but did my best.  I was just enjoying myself so much in that moment that it didn’t matter what my numbers said.  I embraced the rain, Hera’s pit stops, and the duck crap all over the greenway because I was running and I was happy.  I got back home to a nice big towel waiting for me, and took a warm shower.  I felt so good.  I still had a bit of the cold, but I didn’t care.  I knew this was my medicine.

I just knew that the next morning I would wake up eager for my one hour bike ride.  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  When my alarm went off at 4:30, I turned it off.  I felt horrible.  I felt like I could not move.  I wasn’t sore, just not feeling good at all.  I fell back asleep knowing it was the weekend and the day could start whenever I wanted it to.  I got out of bed at 5:30 and decided to just get into my gear and get on the bike, hoping I would get that enthusiasm after I got changed.  No such luck.  I knew if I got on the bike in that moment, I would suck.  Not the kind of suck that is ok when you tried hard, the kind that is just from lack of even trying.  I didn’t want the day to be this way.  I felt like I would never be rid of this cold, that I would never feel really good again.  I decided that if I was going to have this cold forever (drama queen, I know) then I would have to figure out how to work around it.  I took some preparatory action.  I popped two Motrin, shot up some sinus spray and decided to test out a new fuel that you take 30 minutes before working out hoping it would give me some energy.  I also decided to watch the Ironman World Championships while I digested.

The show was great.  It featured a lot of the top pros, of course, but it also showed some age groupers with great stories.  The triathlete that I have seen often at local events was on there.  This is the gentleman who has no arms.  There is a woman who will be the first to represent Iran, covered the entire race except her face and hands.  There was a woman who suffered burns over 60% of her body.  There was a father and son who had a story similar to Jim and Michael.  Some of the stories made me well up, for others I almost cheered out loud.  As I watched, I thought about the fact that, right now, I would not have the mental fortitude to achieve something like that.  There’s nothing wrong with it, I think it’s another part of my training.  I never thought I could run a half marathon.  I had to build up the confidence and will to push, even when it hurt.  This is maybe what that triathlete was referring to.  These people’s “why” is so much greater than themselves that they no matter what, the figure out “how” to make it.  There is no quitting for them, it never crosses their minds, likely because of their “why”.  I felt a little sad knowing that I really didn’t have my big “why” moment.

Darin was up and asked how I was doing.  My answer was “I am trying to be the best me I can be with the way I feel right now.”  “Ok, that’s good”, he said.  He is made of awesome, don’t know what I would do without him and his support.  He deals with all my crazy and never blinks twice at it.  I told him I wasn’t sure what I was going to do yet.  The late start, the back pain, the stuffed nose, the cough…. They are all good excuses not to train and to rest.  But how would I feel if I did that?  More miserable.  How would I feel if I at least gave it a shot?  Better.  How would I feel if something clicked inside and I kicked butt at my training? Amazing.  I told him I was tempted to bring the bike trainer over and ride while watching the rest of the Kona race.  The next think I know, he has the bike and trainer set up for me.  (See, made of awesome.)  I started to feel a little excited.  The ucan was sitting well, and while I was not sure that I would perform at a stellar level, I knew I could crank out the hour.  I hopped on the bike and watched the winners of Kona cross the finish line.  I teared up when they stated that the father and son didn’t make the bike cut off.  I teared up and cheered when the 80 something year old man, who missed finishing by 6 seconds last year, crossed the finish line.  I was keeping pretty good cadence and heart rate on the bike..  It was not an ideal trainer ride, but I was quite happy with my effort.  The workout ended.  How did I feel? Amazing.  This is definitely my medicine.

So, when I come back to this whole “why” thing, all I can tell myself is that while I don’t have that one mind blowing reason why, I have a million little reasons and I am starting to be ok with that.  I do this because it makes me happy.  Maybe not every race, or training session, but overall.  I do this to feel good.  I do this to be healthier.  I do this because sometimes, a friend will tell me I inspired them to workout that day.  I do this so that I can sometimes have the honor of pushing an amazing person in a race.  I do this so that I can be the best version of me that I can be.  Along this journey I just might solidify that big “why”, or maybe it will remain made up of a million little ones.  I will train to build up on the “how” so that one day, I have the fortitude to hear the words: “You are an Ironman.”  I don’t have some amazing story of overcoming adversity or making history, but I don’t need that.  All I really need is a life filled with happiness and love, and I am so very blessed that I already have that.