In the week since the race, I have found myself repeating the same phrase over and over. Every day, I am saying the same two words more than ever before in my life. The words: Thank you. I have never experienced such an outpouring of support and encouragement than in the days leading up to the race and in those that have followed. EVERY person in my life has reached out to support and congratulate me on my journey to Ironman. I am incredibly grateful to ALL these people and all the support and love they've given.
My heart is full of gratitude. Gratitude for the experience and the change I felt within. Gratitude for surviving the day injury free. And, most importantly, gratitude for the MANY MK supporters out in the world! I can never express to them how much their support means to me.
Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!!!!!
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Race Day!
August 29, 2010, (aka race day) was officially one of the longest days of my life!! It was so amazing in so many ways, and it's hard to really put into words all the mix of emotions and thoughts that filled the day.
The official rules of the Ironman include that it starts at 7 am and individuals must finish by 12 am. The Louisville IM is a little different because it has a "time trial start" instead of the normal "age group start." Typically, competitors are grouped by age and sex and each person starts at the same time as everyone else in her age group. However, at IM Louisville, competitors form one line and enter the water one at a time. Essentially, it's a first come, first serve style where people get in line and wait their turn. Like typical fashion, my two friends and I were in the port-a-potty (eh!) when the gun went off and sought the end of the line after the official start of the race. By the time we found the end of the line, we were at least half a mile from the dock and behind approximately 2,500 people! So, by the time we entered the water, it was around 7:35. This meant that we would have only 16 hours and 25 minutes to complete the race. Knowing this made me a little uneasy, but my two friends quickly assured me that I would be fine and wouldn’t need more than 16 hours anyway.
The 2.4 mile swim was okay, considering how much and for how long I had dreaded this part of the race. The water was warm so wetsuits weren’t allowed. We began in a cove, swam upstream at least a mile, and returned by swimming downstream to transition. It took me 1:48:03. I looked at my watch and thought, “Oh wow. Longer than I expected.” Shame. Entering transition, I saw few other bikes and knew that, with my late swim start and my slow time, most people would be much further ahead of me on the bike. Oh well, I like having the bike course to myself anyway!
Starting out on the bike, I knew the longest part of my day was just beginning. Knowing this weighed on me, and I spent a fair amount of time quelling those concerns and reminding myself that this race was something I elected to do! The 112 mile bike ride would be the longest distance I had ridden, considering that none of my training rides passed 100 miles. However, the distance did not concern me as much as knowing that it would take me a looooong time to complete it. The sun grew hotter as the day went on, and the hills seemed never ending. Race organizers set up a viewing area at miles 38 and 68, and I was SO happy to see my friends and family there on each pass! It really kept me going!! All along the way, there were so many people off their bikes, laying in the grass, and appearing as if they couldn’t continue. Each time I passed one of these individuals, I was thankful that I had not yet encountered any distress myself! I stayed as low as I could and pedaled as fast as I could, while at the same time tried to not destroy my legs for the marathon that lay ahead. Finally, I finished the ride in 7:50:58. Wow!! Almost eight hours.
When I got off the bike, it was almost 5:30 pm and it hit me that I only had 6 and a half hours to finish the marathon! On a good day, I could clear that easily. But with the way I felt after 114 miles and 10 hours of activity, I was concerned. I knew I could finish. But exhaustion begged my body to move as slow as possible. I wanted to walk and knew I could walk 26.2 miles any day. But, the unfortunate truth was that there was no way I could walk the distance in just six and half hours. I would have to run quite a bit (even if at a slow pace!) if I wanted to finish. Thankfully, two great friends found me and ran with me, encouraging me, and feeding me certainty. Each mile was consumed with dueling thoughts of considering the consequences of missing the 12 am deadline and KNOWING that I would finish. My run turned out to be my best split all day, and I finished in 6:18:38.
There were SO many incredible and amazing people I shared space with on that day!!!! First and foremost were my two dear friends who raced with me. One has been my best friend for over fifteen years, and I could never, ever imagine going through this journey without her. She pushed me and believed in me from day one! Happily, I’ll always call her best friend and teammate. The other friend and I haven’t known each other for as many years, but she is a kindred spirit nonetheless. She always had time to listen and was quick to reassure any fears or concerns I had about the race. Knowing that these two incredible women were out on the course with me kept me going. We each had our own race to finish, but I knew they could do it. And they knew I could as well. It was incredible to share the dream of Ironman with them and to watch the change in us all as we made our dream come true!
Second, my number one supporter was always my L. He was by my side from the first time I mentioned that I “might, some day, maybe” think about signing up for a race of this distance. We speculated about the time it would take and all the changes we “might” have to make to our daily lives. We had absolutely NO idea how much time training would take and how much it WOULD change our daily lives. He was ALWAYS supportive and was willing to do whatever he could to help me reach my goal. This support meant even more to me considering how busy his own schedule was as a medical student. All I can say is I’m absolutely the luckiest girl in the world!!!
Third, the presence (physical and spiritual!) of SO many friends and family members on race day meant so much to me!! Many took off work, traveled long distances, and went on no sleep just to cheer me and my two friends on. My parents, my brothers, members of my extended family, old friends, new friends, and best friends. They were all there, and it meant the world to me.
In the end, I finished the race at 11:52 pm, 16 hours, 17 minutes, and 55 seconds after I started. With eight whole minutes to spare, I crossed the line of IRONMAN with no hope to return. This day was a defining moment in history for me, and I know for years to come I will begin sentences with “The day I became an Ironman…”
They say that life is about the journey, not the destination. I say that’s true. But with just one caveat. The journey can be grand, it can be long, and it can change you along the way, if you are willing. But it is only upon arriving at your destination that you truly understand and appreciate all that was “the journey.” August 29, 2010, marked the end of my journey to race day but also the beginning of the longest and most difficult challenge I have undertaken. Here, the journey was the destination. Despite the difficulties of the day and the mental struggles I faced, my smile never faded. I was constantly mindful of the amazing opportunity I was living. All the hours of training, the injuries overcome, the fears refused, and sacrifices made were worth it. This journey was worth it all, ten times over. And, in fact, I realized some where along the road that day that the journey would have been worth it whether I made it before midnight or not. But it was soo much sweeter because it ended with:
“Meredith Kimmel, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!!!!”
The official rules of the Ironman include that it starts at 7 am and individuals must finish by 12 am. The Louisville IM is a little different because it has a "time trial start" instead of the normal "age group start." Typically, competitors are grouped by age and sex and each person starts at the same time as everyone else in her age group. However, at IM Louisville, competitors form one line and enter the water one at a time. Essentially, it's a first come, first serve style where people get in line and wait their turn. Like typical fashion, my two friends and I were in the port-a-potty (eh!) when the gun went off and sought the end of the line after the official start of the race. By the time we found the end of the line, we were at least half a mile from the dock and behind approximately 2,500 people! So, by the time we entered the water, it was around 7:35. This meant that we would have only 16 hours and 25 minutes to complete the race. Knowing this made me a little uneasy, but my two friends quickly assured me that I would be fine and wouldn’t need more than 16 hours anyway.
The 2.4 mile swim was okay, considering how much and for how long I had dreaded this part of the race. The water was warm so wetsuits weren’t allowed. We began in a cove, swam upstream at least a mile, and returned by swimming downstream to transition. It took me 1:48:03. I looked at my watch and thought, “Oh wow. Longer than I expected.” Shame. Entering transition, I saw few other bikes and knew that, with my late swim start and my slow time, most people would be much further ahead of me on the bike. Oh well, I like having the bike course to myself anyway!
Starting out on the bike, I knew the longest part of my day was just beginning. Knowing this weighed on me, and I spent a fair amount of time quelling those concerns and reminding myself that this race was something I elected to do! The 112 mile bike ride would be the longest distance I had ridden, considering that none of my training rides passed 100 miles. However, the distance did not concern me as much as knowing that it would take me a looooong time to complete it. The sun grew hotter as the day went on, and the hills seemed never ending. Race organizers set up a viewing area at miles 38 and 68, and I was SO happy to see my friends and family there on each pass! It really kept me going!! All along the way, there were so many people off their bikes, laying in the grass, and appearing as if they couldn’t continue. Each time I passed one of these individuals, I was thankful that I had not yet encountered any distress myself! I stayed as low as I could and pedaled as fast as I could, while at the same time tried to not destroy my legs for the marathon that lay ahead. Finally, I finished the ride in 7:50:58. Wow!! Almost eight hours.
When I got off the bike, it was almost 5:30 pm and it hit me that I only had 6 and a half hours to finish the marathon! On a good day, I could clear that easily. But with the way I felt after 114 miles and 10 hours of activity, I was concerned. I knew I could finish. But exhaustion begged my body to move as slow as possible. I wanted to walk and knew I could walk 26.2 miles any day. But, the unfortunate truth was that there was no way I could walk the distance in just six and half hours. I would have to run quite a bit (even if at a slow pace!) if I wanted to finish. Thankfully, two great friends found me and ran with me, encouraging me, and feeding me certainty. Each mile was consumed with dueling thoughts of considering the consequences of missing the 12 am deadline and KNOWING that I would finish. My run turned out to be my best split all day, and I finished in 6:18:38.
There were SO many incredible and amazing people I shared space with on that day!!!! First and foremost were my two dear friends who raced with me. One has been my best friend for over fifteen years, and I could never, ever imagine going through this journey without her. She pushed me and believed in me from day one! Happily, I’ll always call her best friend and teammate. The other friend and I haven’t known each other for as many years, but she is a kindred spirit nonetheless. She always had time to listen and was quick to reassure any fears or concerns I had about the race. Knowing that these two incredible women were out on the course with me kept me going. We each had our own race to finish, but I knew they could do it. And they knew I could as well. It was incredible to share the dream of Ironman with them and to watch the change in us all as we made our dream come true!
Second, my number one supporter was always my L. He was by my side from the first time I mentioned that I “might, some day, maybe” think about signing up for a race of this distance. We speculated about the time it would take and all the changes we “might” have to make to our daily lives. We had absolutely NO idea how much time training would take and how much it WOULD change our daily lives. He was ALWAYS supportive and was willing to do whatever he could to help me reach my goal. This support meant even more to me considering how busy his own schedule was as a medical student. All I can say is I’m absolutely the luckiest girl in the world!!!
Third, the presence (physical and spiritual!) of SO many friends and family members on race day meant so much to me!! Many took off work, traveled long distances, and went on no sleep just to cheer me and my two friends on. My parents, my brothers, members of my extended family, old friends, new friends, and best friends. They were all there, and it meant the world to me.
In the end, I finished the race at 11:52 pm, 16 hours, 17 minutes, and 55 seconds after I started. With eight whole minutes to spare, I crossed the line of IRONMAN with no hope to return. This day was a defining moment in history for me, and I know for years to come I will begin sentences with “The day I became an Ironman…”
They say that life is about the journey, not the destination. I say that’s true. But with just one caveat. The journey can be grand, it can be long, and it can change you along the way, if you are willing. But it is only upon arriving at your destination that you truly understand and appreciate all that was “the journey.” August 29, 2010, marked the end of my journey to race day but also the beginning of the longest and most difficult challenge I have undertaken. Here, the journey was the destination. Despite the difficulties of the day and the mental struggles I faced, my smile never faded. I was constantly mindful of the amazing opportunity I was living. All the hours of training, the injuries overcome, the fears refused, and sacrifices made were worth it. This journey was worth it all, ten times over. And, in fact, I realized some where along the road that day that the journey would have been worth it whether I made it before midnight or not. But it was soo much sweeter because it ended with:
“Meredith Kimmel, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!!!!”
Friday, August 20, 2010
108
I got my bib number today. 108. I'm pumped that it's an even number! More importantly, getting the number, and knowing that I'll be picking up my race packet in one week from today makes me realize that this idea is a reality! The road has been so long, but the end is finally near. It's so exciting!! But also scary, and my heart has been racing all day, keeping time with all thoughts going through my head. I hope I have done enough, and I hope that I am thankful all day for the tremendous opportunity I am living and breathing.
Monday, August 2, 2010
My Old Kentucky Home
Throughout my training, I've seen many cardinals, which is the state bird of Kentucky (also Virginia and several other states it turns out!). Each time I see one, I think of how much this bird has meant to my family and how often I've seen his image during my lifetime. My grandmother, my grandfather, my parents, cousins, and so many others have shared their love and pride in this bird and their home state. It makes me feel a great sense of "rightness" with the fact that my first Ironman will take place in Kentucky.
My parents were both born and raised in the state, most of my extended family still lives there, and much of my childhood was spent within its borders. In a way, I really feel like I am coming home. This gives me a great sense of calmness and peace when thinking of the 140.6 journey I'll undertake on August 29. Because, while it will be a long day and it won't be easy, I will be home, traveling across land I've crossed so many times before. The eyes and hearts of all my family members will be on me and with me that day. And I know that there will be points in the day where knowing this will mean all the difference.
My parents were both born and raised in the state, most of my extended family still lives there, and much of my childhood was spent within its borders. In a way, I really feel like I am coming home. This gives me a great sense of calmness and peace when thinking of the 140.6 journey I'll undertake on August 29. Because, while it will be a long day and it won't be easy, I will be home, traveling across land I've crossed so many times before. The eyes and hearts of all my family members will be on me and with me that day. And I know that there will be points in the day where knowing this will mean all the difference.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Songs of the Season
As most who know me could tell you, I love music. Music moves me like nothing else, and I am always singing to myself whether it's out loud or just in my head. In all the silent hours of this training season that I have had to myself, I have found that music always keeps me company and keeps me moving. Here are a few songs that always make their way into my head's rotation:
When I swim, I always think of a Raffi song that I learned as a child called "Baby Beluga." The song's full lyrics escape me, and I find myself repeating the same lines over and over.
"Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,
Swim so wild and you swim so free.
Heaven above, and the sea below,
And a little white whale on the go.
Oh Baby Beluga, Baby Beluga, oh Baby Beluga"
Never fail, each time I swim, my head plays this song. There's something organic about the song that brings me back to my love of the ocean. I envision that baby whale gliding through the ocean's waters without a care in the world, feeling alive and happy just to be. For a moment, I am envious of that whale, and my heart longs to feel as carefree and at home in those wild waters as the baby beluga does.
On the bike, I often think of another song from my childhood. This one being, "Coming Round the Mountain."
"She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes).
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes).
She'll be coming 'round the mountain, she'll be coming 'round the mountain,
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes)."
When I was about eight years old, I had an almost life-sized doll named "Cricket" that had a tape deck in her back and moved her mouth to the music she played. This was by far the coolest toy I ever owned as a child! She came with me everywhere, and one of my favorite stories she told was the one including the "Coming Round the Mountain" song. So, now, when I'm peddalling hard, all I can think is "She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes..."
The song never speaks of when she actually gets there, it simply tells of how "she is coming." This is me, on all those rides that I thought would never end, where the only thought I clung to was to just keep going. The moving forward is the experience, and arrival is the end. Naturally, then, "she" is always "coming" and never "there."
Running is home to me. I began this journey as a runner, and nothing makes me more at ease than running. It's almost like meditation and is where I do some of my best thinking. For those reasons, it's no suprise that the most often song that comes into my head while running is "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson.
"I'm Gonna Make A Change,
For Once In My Life
It's Gonna Feel Real Good,
Gonna Make A Difference
Gonna Make It Right . . .
As I, Turn Up The Collar On My
Favorite Winter Coat
This Wind Is Blowin' My Mind
I See The Kids In The Street,
With Not Enough To Eat
Who Am I, To Be Blind?
Pretending Not To See
Their Needs
A Summer's Disregard,
A Broken Bottle Top
And One Man's Soul
They Follow Each Other On
The Wind Ya' Know
'Cause They Got Nowhere To Go
That's Why I Want You To Know
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, And Then Make A Change
I've Been A Victim Of
A Selfish Kind Of Love
It's Time That I Realize
That There Are Some With No Home,
Not A Nickel To Loan
Could It Be Really Me,
Pretending That They're Not Alone?
A Willow Deeply Scarred,
Somebody's Broken Heart
And A Washed-Out Dream
They Follow The Pattern Of
The Wind, Ya' See
Cause They Got No Place To Be
That's Why I'm Starting With Me
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change"
The song epitomizes how I feel about so many things and in so many ways. There is so much in the world that could be better and needs change. The only thing within your control is yourself; therefore, the best place to start is with you.
Who knows all that will go through my head on my fourteen hour race day, but you can bet your bottom dollar that these three tracks will be there at some point, feeling like familiar friends who have been with me all along.
When I swim, I always think of a Raffi song that I learned as a child called "Baby Beluga." The song's full lyrics escape me, and I find myself repeating the same lines over and over.
"Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,
Swim so wild and you swim so free.
Heaven above, and the sea below,
And a little white whale on the go.
Oh Baby Beluga, Baby Beluga, oh Baby Beluga"
Never fail, each time I swim, my head plays this song. There's something organic about the song that brings me back to my love of the ocean. I envision that baby whale gliding through the ocean's waters without a care in the world, feeling alive and happy just to be. For a moment, I am envious of that whale, and my heart longs to feel as carefree and at home in those wild waters as the baby beluga does.
On the bike, I often think of another song from my childhood. This one being, "Coming Round the Mountain."
"She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes).
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes).
She'll be coming 'round the mountain, she'll be coming 'round the mountain,
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes, (when she comes)."
When I was about eight years old, I had an almost life-sized doll named "Cricket" that had a tape deck in her back and moved her mouth to the music she played. This was by far the coolest toy I ever owned as a child! She came with me everywhere, and one of my favorite stories she told was the one including the "Coming Round the Mountain" song. So, now, when I'm peddalling hard, all I can think is "She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes..."
The song never speaks of when she actually gets there, it simply tells of how "she is coming." This is me, on all those rides that I thought would never end, where the only thought I clung to was to just keep going. The moving forward is the experience, and arrival is the end. Naturally, then, "she" is always "coming" and never "there."
Running is home to me. I began this journey as a runner, and nothing makes me more at ease than running. It's almost like meditation and is where I do some of my best thinking. For those reasons, it's no suprise that the most often song that comes into my head while running is "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson.
"I'm Gonna Make A Change,
For Once In My Life
It's Gonna Feel Real Good,
Gonna Make A Difference
Gonna Make It Right . . .
As I, Turn Up The Collar On My
Favorite Winter Coat
This Wind Is Blowin' My Mind
I See The Kids In The Street,
With Not Enough To Eat
Who Am I, To Be Blind?
Pretending Not To See
Their Needs
A Summer's Disregard,
A Broken Bottle Top
And One Man's Soul
They Follow Each Other On
The Wind Ya' Know
'Cause They Got Nowhere To Go
That's Why I Want You To Know
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, And Then Make A Change
I've Been A Victim Of
A Selfish Kind Of Love
It's Time That I Realize
That There Are Some With No Home,
Not A Nickel To Loan
Could It Be Really Me,
Pretending That They're Not Alone?
A Willow Deeply Scarred,
Somebody's Broken Heart
And A Washed-Out Dream
They Follow The Pattern Of
The Wind, Ya' See
Cause They Got No Place To Be
That's Why I'm Starting With Me
I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change"
The song epitomizes how I feel about so many things and in so many ways. There is so much in the world that could be better and needs change. The only thing within your control is yourself; therefore, the best place to start is with you.
Who knows all that will go through my head on my fourteen hour race day, but you can bet your bottom dollar that these three tracks will be there at some point, feeling like familiar friends who have been with me all along.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Three Questions
This morning I went for a run down by the canal towpath in Georgetown. The canal is one of my favorite areas to run in for many reasons. It's flat, made up of dirt and gravel, and surrounded by trees. Travelers can always find some shade, and even on the hottest days, its proximity to the Potomac makes it a few degrees cooler than the rest of the city. In fact, the whole scene can be quite enchanting. There are animals of all kind, and as the path winds, you feel like you’re running through the woods on a forgotten path to nowhere.
Today I saw a turtle resting against the bank of the path, with only his head poking out of the water. And, I couldn't help but imagine the little guy coming up to look around and just taking it easy. He reminded me of a book I read last night to L (the three year old I babysit) called "The Three Questions." It's based on the short story by Leo Tolstoy and features a boy asking "What is the best time do things?" "Who is the most important one?" and "What is the right thing to do?" The boy comes to learn from a wise, old turtle that the most important time is now, the most important one is the one you are with, and the most important thing is to do good to the person you are with.
I really enjoyed my run and felt strong the whole way. I began to wonder about the many ways we take care of the one we are with and also how often we forget to do that exact thing. In every circumstance in life, there is always another that we are “with.” And I’d have to agree with Tolstoy that taking care of that one is the most important thing. Not necessarily because we love that person or even know that person but simply because he or she shares in our humanity.
One of my favorite quotes has always been the following by John Wesley:
Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all times you can,
To all people you can,
As long as you ever can.
This is our calling. But it is up to each of us to discover our own destinies in fulfilling this calling. It is amazing to me to think that an Ironman is part of my life path, and I am awestruck with this realization every time it hits me. The most important time is now. And I have so many incredible people "with" me on this journey that I can only hope I am doing my part to take care of them along the way. I certianly could not do this alone and am deeply grateful to those who continue to take care of me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Today I saw a turtle resting against the bank of the path, with only his head poking out of the water. And, I couldn't help but imagine the little guy coming up to look around and just taking it easy. He reminded me of a book I read last night to L (the three year old I babysit) called "The Three Questions." It's based on the short story by Leo Tolstoy and features a boy asking "What is the best time do things?" "Who is the most important one?" and "What is the right thing to do?" The boy comes to learn from a wise, old turtle that the most important time is now, the most important one is the one you are with, and the most important thing is to do good to the person you are with.
I really enjoyed my run and felt strong the whole way. I began to wonder about the many ways we take care of the one we are with and also how often we forget to do that exact thing. In every circumstance in life, there is always another that we are “with.” And I’d have to agree with Tolstoy that taking care of that one is the most important thing. Not necessarily because we love that person or even know that person but simply because he or she shares in our humanity.
One of my favorite quotes has always been the following by John Wesley:
Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all times you can,
To all people you can,
As long as you ever can.
This is our calling. But it is up to each of us to discover our own destinies in fulfilling this calling. It is amazing to me to think that an Ironman is part of my life path, and I am awestruck with this realization every time it hits me. The most important time is now. And I have so many incredible people "with" me on this journey that I can only hope I am doing my part to take care of them along the way. I certianly could not do this alone and am deeply grateful to those who continue to take care of me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The journey continues
Yesterday I printed John Wooden's Pyramid of Success from the Internet (http://www.erhoops.org/pdfs/John%20Woodens%20pyramid%20of%20success.pdf) and pinned it to my bulletin board at work. Wooden's famous pyramid is the product of 14 years of work towards perfecting his ideals on what "success" is and how to obtain it. His cornerstones feature "Industriousness," explaining "there is no substitute for work. Worthwhile things come from hard work and careful planning;" and "Enthusiasm," saying "Your heart must be in your work. Stimulate others."
My dad is one of the smartest and most humble people I've ever met, and for years, he has had this same Pyramid of Success hanging in his office. This shows me one key thing: the Pyramid works. If your heart is in it, you show up, you work hard, and you keep at it, you will be successful. My dad is the greatest example of this in that he makes it his business to do everything he does "the right way," and he has achieved greater success than he probably ever dreamed. I can't imagine that he has ever laid around, looking to the sky, questioning his lot and asking for favor. Instead, he has always set goals for himself--high but within reach--and worked steadily towards them with the persistence of the best endurance athletes out there.
What I am learning more and more each day is that Ironman training isn't that much different than the life training we naturally get as we walk the Earth. There are times when the course is flat and smooth, others when it's rolling, and still others that test the very extremes of what are made of. The journey is long, and often times, there is no end in sight.
The components in Wooden's Pyramid are ones that will lead to success in physical contests and also in life. My dad has shown me one life's picture of "success" and what one man can shape himself into when he only cares to do so. So much of my Ironman training is cathartic and fills an emptiness that has developed in other areas of my life. I believe that the skills, confidence, and success I have gained through my training are transferable to other parts of my life. Like the muscle memory that my body has developed over hours and hours of physical training, the awareness of strength is becoming ingrained in my mind. And my heart and soul are beginning to see what I am made of.
My dad is one of the smartest and most humble people I've ever met, and for years, he has had this same Pyramid of Success hanging in his office. This shows me one key thing: the Pyramid works. If your heart is in it, you show up, you work hard, and you keep at it, you will be successful. My dad is the greatest example of this in that he makes it his business to do everything he does "the right way," and he has achieved greater success than he probably ever dreamed. I can't imagine that he has ever laid around, looking to the sky, questioning his lot and asking for favor. Instead, he has always set goals for himself--high but within reach--and worked steadily towards them with the persistence of the best endurance athletes out there.
What I am learning more and more each day is that Ironman training isn't that much different than the life training we naturally get as we walk the Earth. There are times when the course is flat and smooth, others when it's rolling, and still others that test the very extremes of what are made of. The journey is long, and often times, there is no end in sight.
The components in Wooden's Pyramid are ones that will lead to success in physical contests and also in life. My dad has shown me one life's picture of "success" and what one man can shape himself into when he only cares to do so. So much of my Ironman training is cathartic and fills an emptiness that has developed in other areas of my life. I believe that the skills, confidence, and success I have gained through my training are transferable to other parts of my life. Like the muscle memory that my body has developed over hours and hours of physical training, the awareness of strength is becoming ingrained in my mind. And my heart and soul are beginning to see what I am made of.
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