I know I’ve been a little quiet as of late. Perhaps you haven’t noticed. It’s been a rough several months for me and my family. I’ll try not to dwell too much on the things that have gone wrong, however, I think mentioning them helps me keep focused on moving forward, with brief pauses for reflection.
Things started to unravel back in November when the health of my mother in law and father in law began a slow and steady downhill spiral. For several months they bounced back and forth between home, the hospital, a nursing care facility, and finally hospice. The family met frequently to discuss future plans and needs which addressed all areas of concern and covered solutions for all possible outcomes. While the meetings were very necessary, the mere fact that they were needed placed additional stress on everyone. We didn’t want to have those conversations, but we knew we needed to. All of this was happening while we were also regularly visiting my 90 year mother in her nursing home. We knew she didn’t have too much more time with us, but we weren’t too concerned with her immediate health.
The spring brought a rapid fire onslaught of loss and despair. In April we lost my father in law. In May we lost my mother in law. And then in June, after an abscess developed requiring surgical removal, we lost my mother. In less than 70 days, we became the oldest generation of the family. Couple that with life’s normal struggles and stressors and let’s just say that things took a toll on me, and the rest of our family. It was a dark and painful time, and one we are still trying to navigate through.
Through good times and bad, fitness, and locomotion have always been very important to me. Movement has been my therapy, my happy place, and my chocolate. Movement has been my therapist, my guru, my counselor, my teacher, my mentor, and my inner voice of reason. Fitness has been able to lift me up when I needed a boost and provide a healthy escape from some of the demons that can haunt us. Unfortunately, fitness also took a little bit of a hit during these past few months. In many cases, I was just too busy attending to the much more pressing issues at hand. But even when I did have time, motivation suffered and training was difficult. I salvaged enough to keep me afloat, but not without feelings of inadequacy and shortfall. I was forced to back out of a couple of races due to family priorities. Believe it or not, that made me question who I was or possibly even who I used to be.
It’s taken some time, but I seem to be working my way out of the hole, little by little. I’ve come to the self-realization that I still AM what I was. I needed to take some time to heal, and the process is nowhere near complete, but I still AM. I’m still that same person inside. Events may have left a mark on me and slightly changed my perspective on life, but in spite of everything that has happened I’m still sitting here writing and in (relative) control. In my book, that translates to me winning this battle.
While the summer hasn’t gone exactly as planned, life has given me many hidden blessings that I will embrace for the silver linings that they are. On the racing front, I am quietly and unassumingly reloading my attack on Ironman Maryland. I’ve still got a few key races on the calendar before the end of the year; hopefully these will help keep some of the air in my sails. As I’ve always said, I prefer quiet and subtle accomplishments. I’ve been racing long enough to be able to live with my accomplishments for what they are. In my years of racing, I’ve learned that it’s pretty easy to dedicate time and energy to a race, have all of the stars align, and turn out a good experience. The challenge is doing all of that when the stars are colliding into one another, and colliding into you.
The size of your footprint is far more important than the sound of your footsteps.
Be proud, but be humble.
When Life Happens, and Then Doesn’t
I know I’ve been a little quiet as of late. Perhaps you haven’t noticed. It’s been a rough several months for me and my family. I’ll try not to dwell too much on the things that have gone wrong, however, I think mentioning them helps me keep focused on moving forward, with brief pauses for reflection.
Things started to unravel back in November when the health of my mother in law and father in law began a slow and steady downhill spiral. For several months they bounced back and forth between home, the hospital, a nursing care facility, and finally hospice. The family met frequently to discuss future plans and needs which addressed all areas of concern and covered solutions for all possible outcomes. While the meetings were very necessary, the mere fact that they were needed placed additional stress on everyone. We didn’t want to have those conversations, but we knew we needed to. All of this was happening while we were also regularly visiting my 90 year mother in her nursing home. We knew she didn’t have too much more time with us, but we weren’t too concerned with her immediate health.
The spring brought a rapid fire onslaught of loss and despair. In April we lost my father in law. In May we lost my mother in law. And then in June, after an abscess developed requiring surgical removal, we lost my mother. In less than 70 days, we became the oldest generation of the family. Couple that with life’s normal struggles and stressors and let’s just say that things took a toll on me, and the rest of our family. It was a dark and painful time, and one we are still trying to navigate through.
Through good times and bad, fitness, and locomotion have always been very important to me. Movement has been my therapy, my happy place, and my chocolate. Movement has been my therapist, my guru, my counselor, my teacher, my mentor, and my inner voice of reason. Fitness has been able to lift me up when I needed a boost and provide a healthy escape from some of the demons that can haunt us. Unfortunately, fitness also took a little bit of a hit during these past few months. In many cases, I was just too busy attending to the much more pressing issues at hand. But even when I did have time, motivation suffered and training was difficult. I salvaged enough to keep me afloat, but not without feelings of inadequacy and shortfall. I was forced to back out of a couple of races due to family priorities. Believe it or not, that made me question who I was or possibly even who I used to be.
It’s taken some time, but I seem to be working my way out of the hole, little by little. I’ve come to the self-realization that I still AM what I was. I needed to take some time to heal, and the process is nowhere near complete, but I still AM. I’m still that same person inside. Events may have left a mark on me and slightly changed my perspective on life, but in spite of everything that has happened I’m still sitting here writing and in (relative) control. In my book, that translates to me winning this battle.
While the summer hasn’t gone exactly as planned, life has given me many hidden blessings that I will embrace for the silver linings that they are. On the racing front, I am quietly and unassumingly reloading my attack on Ironman Maryland. I’ve still got a few key races on the calendar before the end of the year; hopefully these will help keep some of the air in my sails. As I’ve always said, I prefer quiet and subtle accomplishments. I’ve been racing long enough to be able to live with my accomplishments for what they are. In my years of racing, I’ve learned that it’s pretty easy to dedicate time and energy to a race, have all of the stars align, and turn out a good experience. The challenge is doing all of that when the stars are colliding into one another, and colliding into you.
The size of your footprint is far more important than the sound of your footsteps.
Be proud, but be humble.