I wasn’t going to talk about Ironman 2018. At least not a great deal. Last year went so smoothly, as did this fall and early winter. The difference, I decided, between this season and those prior, was my relative privacy about it all. “Don’t speak, just do”.  And I did. Since October 1, I had the most consistent training to date, with the biggest gains of my tri life.

Then,  I opened my big damn fingers. Shortly after my last blog on January 7, a big pot of life that had been simmering for some time came to a boil and bubbled over. Family, work, business, health. It happens, and sometimes it happens all at once. Sometimes you push through, and then sometimes your higher power says it’s time for a break and doesn’t give you choice.  It really pisses me off when that happens. Like, A LOT.

My personal health took me fully out of training for three weeks (and I’ve been reduced to extremely modified training since then–but I will be BACK soon), and mentally, I feel like a big pile. Of something. It feels like I’m starting over and it’s everything I can do to not let myself slip back into the “PTSD” of the aftermath of the February Vertigo of 2016.  I mean, February in the Midwest is pretty much always drain on the system, I guess.

And this, friends, is when discipline becomes key. Thank God for the discipline I’ve built in the last year, because motivation is nowhere to be found. This becomes the time to just show up, and do what you can TODAY. We all find ourselves drained, served with an overdose of life, and out of touch with ourselves–physically, mentally, emotionally. When the mind isn’t fit, for the love of Pete, don’t quit. Quiet your mind as much as possible and just move the body while listening to it.  Likely the mind will catch up.  And eventually, the mind will repay the body by being the pilot when roles are reversed.

Life doesn’t stop. Life doesn’t stop for Ironman. That’s part of what makes this journey so beautiful. Getting to the start line truly is a gift, all on its own. I didn’t used to get that. I might have said it, but I didn’t get it.  Every day of ability to train is a gift. To toe the start line is a gift. To finish will be a treasure beyond measure.