InnerTeub

I was up in New York last week for Ironman Lake Placid. My husband and three of our very good training buddies were all competing in the race. In 2010, the same crew got together when we all did Ironman CdA, and I remember it as one of the more enjoyable vacations I’ve taken, despite the fact that there was a grueling triathlon taking place smack in the middle of it.

2012 IMLP Crew (racers in the middle)

Sunday night, as we gathered around the table post-race, the finishers telling war stories of what had happened that day, my friend Chris asked me about the difference between spectating the race and doing the race.

Obviously, they are different. With one, you are triathloning for 12+ (in my case, ++) hours, getting sunburned, living off manufactured sugar and sweat, and in the other, you are drinking champagne in the middle of the day in the shade. They are not really comparable experiences. I can say that I felt fine with my decision to not register for IMLP last year, and had no delusions that I would be doing this race (I’ve swum probably four times all year, and let’s not even discuss when I was last on my bike), but it was still hard to see my friends go off and do something without me, something that used to very much include me.

2010 IMCdA

Having said that: I enjoyed spectating. I like being around the race atmosphere. I was so proud of my husband and friends, each having a great day on a tough course, and I liked that I knew exactly how tough their days truly were, having ridden that exact bike course myself, and having gutted out 26.2 miles on my feet after swimming 2.4 and riding 112. I get it, and I got it that day, and I was so happy to be there with them, even if it was on the sidelines.

Watching athletes come up “Mama Bear” – one of the harder climbs of IMLP

It was hard, though. I didn’t register for IMLP last summer (you register for Ironman races a full year before the race) because I was quite certain we’d have a baby this summer. At the very least, I was sure I’d be pregnant during the 2012 race. So it was hard to be there, no baby, no pregnancy. While catching up with our training buddies this week, I was surprised at how little moments of anger would creep in, how broken I felt, being there as a former Ironman with no “good” excuse for not doing the race. Which is silly, of course. There are many good excuses for not doing an Ironman. Hell, “I don’t wanna” is a perfectly good excuse for not doing an Ironman. But that wasn’t my excuse, not really, and, well, I was pissed about it.

There are so many things about an Ironman you can’t control. You can’t control the weather. You can’t control other people hitting you during the swim. You can’t stop your bike from getting a flat tire or a wheel from blowing a spoke. In fact, one of the most commonly repeated motivational phrases in the days leading up to an Ironman is “The only thing you can control is your attitude.” I found myself, this past week, being reminded of that. Of the multitude of things I cannot control about getting and staying pregnant (which is…basically everything), I can absolutely control my attitude about it. When I look back on this year, I don’t see it as a waste. In many ways, it’s been one of my favorite years of my life. And I don’t want to look back at the spectating experiences of IMLP 12 as a waste of race. It wasn’t. It was a great week with good friends. The gang is signing up for another IM in 2013 and I’m looking forward to that, too, regardless of whether I show up to race or spectate. Either way, I’ll be smiling.