Worth a Thousand Words

Ironman was a little over two weeks ago.  So I've been obviously been meaning to post about it, but I've just been sort of busy doing all the things I wasn't doing when I was training for Ironman - like working and sleeping, for example. And I just couldn't really figure out what I wanted to say.  I was trying to set aside time to write a really lengthy description of every minute of that day.  But then I got my pictures and realized that wasn't really necessary.  Because this one says it all. 

I got kicked in the head, the lip, and the ribs during the swim.  It was freezing and choppy and scary.  I loved every minute of it.  I was on the bike for 9 seconds shy of 8 hours.  That's a long f*ing time.  I ate poptarts and shot bloks and applesauce and oreos and watermelon and cookies.  (All of which fueled me perfectly much to the surprise of many)  I didn't get sunburned at all thanks to the amazing volunteers who literally bathe you in sunblock.  I followed my plan for the run and did 9 minute run, 1 minute walk intervals for the first 22 miles, and then I just ran.  I laughed, I smiled, I talked to people.  I enjoyed being outside and just playing all day.  Being healthy and alive enough to be there in that moment on that day.  There was not one single moment when I thought about quitting.  Not one. 

I did this race exactly how I wanted to - smiling the whole time.  Nothing else really mattered.  And I loved every mile - all 140.6 of them.  Every hour - all 14 of them.  Every minute - all 23 of them.

It was perfect.