Yes, my impending Ironman is all I'm blogging about lately. Not sorry.
As I get ready to toe the start line in less than 12 hours, I've gotten pretty introspective about this whole thing and what it's taken to get here.
I signed up for Ironman Wisconsin a year ago. I stared into my laptop at work, tapping furiously at the keys as soon as registration opened. I remember pausing when all the information was filled out and taking a deep breath. I wondered if I was ready, sweating thinking about the intricacies and expenses of the next year. It's like having a final project in college - it's constantly looming over you as you try and go about your life.
My life has changed significantly in the past year. But the fact is, no one can tell from the outset what could happen in 12 months time.
I could have moved to another country.
I could have gotten pregnant.
I could have broke a leg.
I could have lost my job.
I could have been diagnosed with something terrible.
I could have gone back to school.
Any number of things could have happened. Some great things happened. Some things I wish hadn't happen did. I trained through it. I cried into my goggles and pedaled a rented road bike 80 miles through Texas hill country. I ran through streets when sidewalks didn't exist and tripped over rocks in back alleys in Mexico in pre-dawn hours. I gained weight through my turmoil and spent nearly every day of the past year awake at 5 a.m. to lift heavy things, swim alone, run in the dark and pedal in the garage towards nothing.
No one can tell what lies in the waters ahead. Smooth sailing is unlikely, and doesn't make for a good story anyhow. Give me murky. Bring on choppy. I don't mind swells. This is where I learn and where I triumph. This is the stuff of cocktail party stories. This is where I prove what I'm made of.
Ironbitch was born a long time ago with a spark of excitement watching an Ironman race on YouTube.
Tomorrow, Ironbitch will be christened with fire.