Courage Means Moving Forward-- not without Fear-- but Despite it.

Does this sound familiar?  I urge my children to try new things while I sit safely on the sidelines and stick to my routine.

I've wanted to complete a triathlon for over 20 years!  

Here are my various excuses for not doing a Triathlon:

* I'm afraid someone will knock my goggles off and I'll lose my contact lenses, swim in circles, and have to be pulled out of the water.
* I'm afraid I'll have a flat tire on the bike and have to walk.
* I'm not fast and don't know what I'm doing.
* Triathlon sounds expensive.
* I don't know where triathlons are held.
* I don't know anyone who does triathlons.
* I don't swim fast.
* I don't run fast.
* I don't bike all that fast-- and sometimes I crash.
* I'm afraid someone will knock my goggles off and I'll lose my contact lenses, swim in circles, and have to be pulled out of the water.

These reasons sound a lot like the reasons my sons give me for not wanting to participate in various sports or attend summer camps.  The reasons make sense and yet they are excuses built on fear and apprehension.

Some of my fear has a sound basis-- I've been a lifeguard.  I have watched people nearly drown.  I felt the panic of drowning while trying to rescue a hysterical thrashing victim who was bigger than me and in over his head.  He kept hugging me around my neck and I was afraid he was going to kill us both.  I had to kick him in the stomach to get him off  me so I could pull him to safety.

So for two decades I continued to run and practice yoga and not really think about a triathlon-- even though whenever I watched Ironman competitors cross the finish line, I cried.

Then, nearly a year ago, I read a little book by another Atlanta area mom and attorney.  Her name is Meredith Atwood, and the book is Triathlon for the Every Woman: You can do it.  Yes.  You. Despite being overweight and overwhelmed, Meredith trained for and completed a short triathlon. Then another.  And another.  She completed the Ironman distance.  Her story was empowering.  She was not a superstar athlete with endless financial support.  Instead, she was . . . a little like me.  She was a busy mom with financial constraints.  She was kind of slow.  Never going to win.  Just in it for . . . what?  Something deeper.  Me, too.

Last September, I began my triathlon journey.  I read every book I could find.  I swam.  It was harder than I thought.  I biked.  It was more fun than expected.  I continued to run because that has long been a source of joy and peace for me.  Weeks and months passed.  And finally the day came.

June 4, 2016  Blalock Lakes Tri the Parks Sprint Triathlon

                     600 meter swim                           14.7 mile bike                         3.1 mile run

After months of training, I was almost sure that finishing would be a piece of cake.  This was my warm up triathlon for all the Ironman distances I was sure to complete.  Ugh . . . Surprise.

Do you know what's challenging?  Swimming in a churning, frothing lake of green water.  Swimming with arms and legs bumping you and no real room to put your head down and swim without risking The Fear: someone will knock my goggles off and I'll lose my contact lenses, swim in circles, and have to be pulled out of the water!

For the next fifteen minutes, the thoughts in my head ran something like this: "Oh my God, I can't breathe!  Keep going!  Keep going!  Where are the buoys?  Okay, there is a buoy.  Put your head down and swim like you've been practicing  . . . Oh, my God, I can't breathe!  I'm swallowing water.  Why am I swallowing so much yucky green water?  I can't get my breath!  Head up, then.  Go.  Just Go."

That was my thought process as I followed the froth of purple capped swimmers.  And finally, my hands touched lake bottom.  I stood, and I ran for the bike.  At least, I thought I was running.  (Check Photo to see truth!)

The bike was a JOY.  No one passed me on the bike.  Spooky and I love each other, and we flew over the 14.7 miles at a faster pace than we'd ever ridden before.  Thank you, Spooky.

The run, however, was unwelcome.  My legs simply wouldn't move very well, and my tummy was ready to reject the lake water now.  For the first mile, I was in a state of confusion and disbelief as I tried to understand why this little 5K was so HARD.  Thankfully, after a mile and a half, I was able to change directions.  Lo and Behold, we had been running uphill for most of the first half.  No wonder it was so challenging! On the last mile, I began to relax into the race and shouted encouragement to the other women around me.

After blasting through the finisher's chute (okay, maybe more like trotting with enthusiasm), I could finally say it, "I am a triathlete."

It was harder than I thought.  Don't underestimate the shorter distances.  A sprint triathlon is NOT a sprint.  I didn't see anyone sprinting!  But you know what?  After it was over, and I could breathe normally again; I felt like a superhero.  Triathlon clothing even looks a little bit like a superhero suit; don't you think?

I can't wait to compete again.  And I have something new to work on.  A new fear to conquer.  The open water swim.  The green, dark, open water swim . . . I'm going to do it!

Message from my youngest son when I arrived
home from my first triathlon.

Competing in a triathlon-- my fears released from the shadows.