Almost exactly one year ago, I was in this same room, same time, same goal. Ironman. Last year I was here for the opportunity to race. This year I'm here for the race. Ironman. Last year I was not the same person typing this out. I was not the person I have grown to know and love over this last year. In fact, that person doesn't exist anymore. This journey started out as a dream, to chase a goal. To cross a finish line. To have the glory, the bragging rights, the tattoo, the confidence that goes with such huge achievements. It was a self-serving, look-at-me, train hard, race harder, go, go, go kind of attitude. And Ironman changed all of that for me. Ironman changed my entire life. When I show up on Sunday, I am not bringing a year of training. It's not about that. It's not about the time, the splits, the physical part. For me, this is the end and the beginning of a journey. A journey that showed me who I am. Who I am capable of being. Who I want to be.
If it wasn't for Ironman there is a chance my cervical cancer would have gone undiagnosed until it was more advanced than it already was. But because of Ironman, it was found and it was treated. Twice. In six months. And in those six months I learned a lot about myself. I found Reiki. I found out how to just be. How to exist in the moment, because that's all we have. I didn't care all that much that I had cancer. I cared that it might detour me from Ironman. But after the second surgery, I did let go of Ironman for a while. I thought that maybe it wasn't meant to be. But I bounced back and it led me right back to my training. Ironman gave me that reason to push through it.
I never knew how strong, yet weak I could be. And I never realized how beautiful that combo is. Weakness isn't weak, it's human. And it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to rally the troops and have a cry-fest. It's okay to break down and be broken. And then it's even more glorious to realize that you can fix it all, and find strength in that.
Ironman became my lifestyle. It is what I breathed, lived, ate for a year. I had every frickin' obstacle thrown my way, and I overcame each one. One by one. With courage and grace. And each obstacle made me stronger, and brought me closer to Ironman. So this race is not just a race, it's so much more than that. I feel like I know who I am now. Like, if someone asked me if I know who I am, I could say with certainty, "YES!" And, honestly, the answer a year ago would've been different.
More than anything, I never knew how much I could be loved. I started this a year ago, and I told everyone that would listen, thinking that no one would really care about this journey of mine. After all, it is Class A Crazytrain. But you all hopped on board when you realized how much it meant to me. I have never. Once. Ever. Felt so much love, so much support, as I have on this journey. I can't even begin to write about all the nice things everyone has done. Every single thing, big and small, led me to this moment. And I am so grateful. So humbled. SO dang proud of everything and everyone who came along for this crazy Ironman ride. Thank you. It's the journey, not the destination so in my opinion, I haven't crossed the finish line yet, but I'm already an Ironman! See you in 140.6 miles.
