Moving Forward

I was playing in the beginning...the mood all changed.

I'm back.

I woke up today with a fire. An excitement, and an element of productive anger. Not the kind that maladjusts, but the kind that clears and focuses. And now it's on.

What did I think was going to happen? That I'd head out for a cheery 17 hour stroll in September only to reach a pleasant but anticlimactic finish? No. I signed up because it's hard. Because men of Iron do not choose the path of least resistance. Because a previous me could not do this. I stood there in 2003, soft and overweight and among the wreckage of a life so far ruined and made a conscious decision to do the most difficult thing I could think of, partly in an effort to wake myself the hell up. To feel again the rapture of being alive. I've done that, and the finish line at Ironman absorbs so much more than 140.6 miles.

So let the sometimes anguish also extend beyond those 17 hours. Let it come. Let it be thrown at me so that once I absorb the blow; next time I deflect it or duck its approach. Let it be hard. Let me learn from my opponent - who is me - until his tendencies are boring they're so well known. So like so many cheesy movies I stand again at unlikely hour, face bloodied and body exhausted, and begin my pummel with unanticipated force. Let the price be high for Becoming. It's supposed to hurt. But hell. I've been through worse. Much, much worse.

You all speak wisdom, every one, in your comments and private emails. And I appreciate that nobody was simple minded in this - you seemed to understand how it was complicated for me. Thank you.

I choked. Jordan didn't make every buzzer shot either - but he always wanted the ball in his hands. I know now how it feels to go all Anakin Skywalker on the joint and just give in to anger and its influence. Good enough. Lesson learned. Understood. Certainly it won't ever happen again.

More important is another weapon in the arsenal. Another deposit into the account. I get it. I know how it feels. I know what not to do. Seemingly simple lessons, but like in life, sometimes they're expensive as hell.

So I race the Half Iron distance again next weekend. Consider it unfinished business. I'll be entirely solo - no support crew whatsoever. Which is as it should be this once.

Enough of this, then. Let's get on with playing this simple game. Let's get back to the business of Becoming Ironman.

So I'll take the first step of a million more
And I'll make mistakes I've never made before
But at least I'm moving forward
At least I'm moving forward
At least I'm moving forward.