There's No "I" in Team
Monday, April 23, 2007
The other morning, I was rubbing my eyes awake when I felt something that's never, ever there: eyebrow stubble.
It shocked me to find, looking in the mirror, little stubs of hair coming in where they shouldn't. Shocked me to discover that my eyebrows looked like poorly-trimmed hedges. It shocked me because I am a fastidious plucker. Plucking my eyebrows is a part of my daily routine, like brushing my teeth or shaving my legs (which I do daily, or sometimes if warranted, twice daily). It relaxes me. Gives me a sense of self-satisfaction. I like doing it so much, in fact, that I haven't had my brows waxed in years. How many, I'm not sure. It's been that long.
So how to explain that I've let my eyebrows go to this point? Easy. It's the circus that is the Ironman. Or, more accurately, the circus that is my life because of the Ironman.
I have no time to go to the grocery store, no time to clean my apartment, and no time to do laundry. I rarely have time to talk on the phone, and conversations are either a) short, b) en route to swimming or back, or c) while I'm logging 4+ hour bike rides in my living room. I barely have time to work, what with all the working-out. Meeting up with people for drinks or seeing a movie is so far down the list of things I don't have time to do that I can't even see them.
I always knew this would be the most miserable part of it all. It's nearly impossible to have a life when you're working on becoming an Ironman. It's all part of the hard-ness of the experience, I think. Ironman, after all, isn't just about race day. It's about all of the sacrifices that are made each hour, each day, each week, and each month leading up to race day.
But these aren't just my sacrifices.
There's a reason why, when you watch an Ironman competition, that you see group after group of families and friends lined up in all sorts of weather, cheering on their Ironman-to-be with a mix of smiles and tears on their faces. It's why you see that same mix on the faces of the competitors. The smiles come from a sense of community and spirit, the tears from pride at what is being accomplished...together.
The thing is, no one does Ironman alone. It's impossible to do so. I always watched fathers and mothers running across the finish line at IM Wisconsin with their brood of kids in tow, wondering how in the world they did it all -- being a parent, being married, working, and training?!? What I didn't know was that it was because of their little clan -- not in spite of -- that they were able to accomplish all they did.
I'm not married. I have no brood. But I do have my own team that helps me keep on keeping on.
There's my "Chief of Stuff" who has all but taken responsibility for my life by doing the following at times:
- Grocery shopping;
- Cooking;
- Laundry;
- Doing long runs and sprint workouts with me;
- Keeping Leonard company and entertained;
- Helping me with barn chores so I can finish and start my Sunday long runs sooner;
- Letting me listen to his Ipod on long runs when mine quits because I forgot to charge it;
- Massaging my feet when they hurt so badly after post-weekend workouts that I contemplate taking Vicodin to curb the pain;
- Buying my favorite flavors of Cliff Bars or Gatorade when available;
- Bringing me food I can eat on my bike (namely, quesadillas), when my workout spans dinner;
- Planning social outings around my schedule and (the best part) planning them for me; and
- Never once complaining about the time this endeavor takes up and how bone-tired it makes me all the time.
I also have many Deputy Chiefs of Stuff -- my sister, brother-in-law, mom, dad, aunts, uncles, friends, and bosses/co-workers -- who, even though they aren't in close enough proximity to assist in the day-to-day operations of my life have been indispensable on this journey so far. They have provided and continue to provide support, encouragement, kind words, and an unyielding patience with my schedule. They worry about me. They watch my buddy, Leonard, and make sure he's happy. They send me articles or tips they've heard that might be useful, and hook me up with others who have undertaken this crazy race. They come and visit me, or are understanding when I can't make a proposed trip, because they know I just can't finagle any visits for the foreseeable future. They tell me they are proud.
Yesterday I was finishing up a run after a 3+ hr bike ride (a workout that was cut short from what it was supposed to be) while my Chief of Stuff was at the grocery store stocking up on food for a cookout that night -- a cookout we were having so I could pretend I had a bit of a social life...food that would already be prepared by the time I was out of the shower and the first guests were rolling in.
That this undertaking is a selfish one is not lost on me. I think about it often. Every single day, I am humbled by the patience of the people around me, by the sacrifices that they've made on my behalf. I am humbled and I am grateful.
Only a bit over four months to go on this journey. So far it has been difficult, but manageable and good -- and for that, I have my team to thank.
Posted by Erin 7:38 AM