Shifting Priorities

I gave up racing triathlons last year. My last race was a half Ironman in Tempe, AZ. It was the perfect swan song – I PR’ed by 20+ minutes and finished (barely) under 6 hours.

The decision to give up racing was not a purposeful one, per se. I did an Ironman last April. For someone who needs to constantly up the ante on one’s accomplishments there isn’t really anywhere else to go after an Ironman. Sure, there are double and triple Ironmans but I am not that crazy. By the end of each tri season I usually have the next season’s races planned out. You kind of have to – they fill up quickly. By the end of the 2007 season I had nothing planned and I couldn’t even visualize myself doing another race. It was unfathomable.

Following the Tempe race I went to Amsterdam for nearly two weeks. I’ll spare the details here but it could have been a better trip and it certainly could have ended better. Three days after returning to the US I crashed my bike and broke my right elbow. It didn’t occur to me until nearly a month later that it really was the perfect time for a break, pun intended.

I worried at first – Will I get fat? Lose fitness? Be bored out of my mind? Find another sport or hobby? Sell my equipment and become a couch potato? None of these things happened. After recovering from my elbow I took my time getting back on the bike, into the pool and on the road. For the first time in my life I gave myself a break. I let myself heal. I rode all summer but I made room for other things too – friends and trips and dating and museums and exploring and movies and life. I wasn’t bored in the slightest. I wasn’t as stressed out as I usually am. I did a lot of long hard thinking about what I want out of life. I had more than one epiphany.

When I did get on my bike I enjoyed myself. I love to ride but I don’t love every ride. Everyone has bad days on the bike, myself included. If I had a bad day on the bike – c’est la vie. I slowed down, changed gears, cut the ride short and rewarded myself with a good lunch and moved on. I didn’t beat myself up for days thinking “Oh I’ll never be ready for X race.” Or “I should have gone faster, harder, longer, etc.” After a bad ride I was usually on fire for the next one.

For the longest time triathlon gave me an identity. I was “a triathlete.” I sacrificed a lot of living to keep this identity. It wasn’t worth it and I see that now. Giving it up is like letting a part of me die. I still think about it but I am stronger for it.