Wednesday, June 27, 2012

the race was a perfect metaphor for life...

To say that the triathlon was a challenge would be an understatement.  The swim was fine - if you like that kind of thing!  Which means the swim portion of a tri is my least favorite.  The bike was okay.  It was an incredibly hilly course that could have been fun if I'd practiced more on hills than I had - duh! 

The run on the other hand...now that's a different story!  It was brutal!  The only race that I can remember being as challenging was the Adirondack Marathon.  Which makes sense.  You're running in a mountain range.  I could never have imagined such consistently rolling steep hills in south Georgia.  To show you how hard it was, I rarely run a 10k portion of a triathlon in over 60 minutes.  I can usually eke out a 10 minute mile pace.  On Sunday I finished in 1:15 and and change.  That's how demanding it was.

I spent as much time walking up the hills as I did shuffling down them!  And all the time all I could think about was writing this blog!  Okay, that's a stretch.  I was thinking about the chapter of my book, 'This too Shall Pass.'  I'm convinced that we are always on a journey of some kind that has a beginning a middle and an end.  And no matter how much you believe it's never going to end, it always, always does.  The crappy relationship will end.  The horrible boss will leave one day.  The fat belly you've got will be gone one day.  Of course the caveat to those observations is that although the journey you're on may just end by itself but to ensure that it does YOU have to make the right decisions and take the right actions.

The big difference between the race and life was the fact that I was afforded the opportunity to see the beginning, middle and end of each hill I encountered.  And knew exactly what I had to do to get to the top of said hill.  And knew what the potential outcomes of my actions would be immediately.  If I keep my legs turning over I'll make it to the top of this hill which will go down until I reach the bottom of the next hill I have to climb...until I cross the finish line.  Or, I can quit.  Stop moving towards the finish line.  And have someone drive out on the course and pick me up.  Those were my only options.

Life is a little different.  You can't see the top of the hill.  And although intelectually you know it's there, sometimes you give in because it's just too hard.  Meanwhile you might have been a foot from the top!  And seconds later would have been careening downhill with a smile on your face! 

So there you have it.  The race is over.  It was brutal.  Thankfully I could see the top of each hill and keep chugging slowly up the hill.  Now it's time for me to do the same with my life.  Time to get my head down and keep my legs moving.  Because I don't want to have someone drive out on the course and pick me up!

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