Either you do it or you don’t. Life is so rarely defined by such a boundary, and yet, in an Ironman, or a marathon, or a distance event, we have a clear beginning of a goal, and a clear end to a goal. Seldom are we given such a clear measure of what will make us successful. The starting line is on a beach in
It is the wonder of these ultra-endurance sports that we find our greatest satisfaction. Often we are asked “why?” Part of the purpose of this blog is to discover that for myself. Yet rarely is it easy to explain to a non-runner. And this is not because I am a rude, selfish guy, but because in truth I can’t answer that for myself. I’ve written over 50 entries in this blog and I still don’t know for sure. Ask the mountain climber why he climbs a mountain, and the answer becomes “because it is there”. Pretty unsatisfying answer if you ask me. And yet that’s all I can really say too. I don’t know why.
But part of the answer lies in how it is simply a goal with a beginning and an end. I crave something to conquer, definitively.
Albert Camus said “We are at home in our games because it is the only place we know just what we are supposed to do.”
How many of us ask THAT question? What am I supposed to do?
Will a career path make me successful? How will I know? Will a relationship make me complete? How about money? A family? A house?
Now, all these are worthwhile pursuits, and help create a sense of purpose, but they are not the purpose. Nor is the Ironman itself. It’s not a purpose either (shock to admit that). But, in all of this, we have 140.6 miles of distance to cover, through water, over highways and mountains, and in a prescribed order. It’s a place where I know what I need to do.
Of course, I recognize that the training itself has many positive side effects. First of all, running has always been a way for me to release and transition to a new mindset. I no longer can wait until the evening to get my run in. On Tuesdays, I try to get that run in as soon as work is over. That way I can feel good about the rest of the evening and about my day. This is not a cure for depression, but it is certainly a positive outlet to flush out, mentally and physically, and gain a new perspective. So, when someone asks, I can say “I don’t know. I just like to run…” but that still doesn’t answer the question “Why THIS crazy race? Health and fitness are one thing, but this is excessive.”
Again, why play a game? Why play Solitaire? Why a video game? Why a basketball game? All of these escapes offer conclusions we can digest. Even a television show or a movie gives us that sense of denouement or finish. Beginning to see why the Ironman yet? Me neither. One answer I find whenever I take a look at one of my cats. He always begs to go outside. When I say “begs”, I am talking about an unrelenting shriek of a meow, that will go for hours until he is appeased. The thing is, he just wants to go outside and explore. No matter how many times he’s been out, he still follows me around, begging me to let him out again. It’s not for hunting, or to go to the bathroom, or to have sex with other cats (I presume since he’s been “adjusted”) or to sleep, all these instinctual animal needs that we think of. He just wants to go outside. The adventure, it seems, is worthwhile in itself.
Thinking of my pursuit of Ironman, I begin to understand my cat. Or is it, thinking of my cat, I begin to understand my pursuit of the Ironman?
“My fair cousin; if we are mark’d to die, we are honored by our country in its tragic loss. And if we live, the fewer men, the greater the share of honor.
God’s will, I pray thee, not one more man. For I am not covetous for gold, nor care I for material flourishments. But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, will stand a tiptoe above all others. Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, but he’ll remember, with advantages, what feats he did this day. This story shall the good man teach his son, and forever their flowing cups will it be remembered; from this day to the ending of the world!”
This is an excerpt from the famous Shakespeare’s King Henry V, a rallying cry to his soldiers before the battle of
In Ironman, we share a unique bond with the few, the happy few, who have attempted and completed the distance. It’s not that it’s exclusive, at all. It’s that you cannot fake the Ironman. You can’t wake up on Saturday and say “tomorrow I’ll do that race”. You have to get there, you have to work, and you have to respect that you will be tested, and tested, and tested again. And you will lose hope at some point, be frustrated, and you could be on the side of the road, battered and bruised. Sounds like fun, eh?
In the end, though, you sit around a banquet – somewhat reminiscent of the victory banquet in a kingdom – and tell your “war” stories, wearing the marks of the feats of the day… If you don’t buy that, I defy anyone to show me a person who doesn’t wear their finishers medal in a marathon or Ironman, or their race t-shirt, etc. after the race.
140.6 miles…. Think about it.
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