Last Wednesday I met a Brazilian ex-professional skateboarder named Roberto. I learned about ten minutes into our adventure together rolling through the concrete jungle of Los Angeles, that he recently traded his “wood on wheels” for the smooth, plush, and classy ride of a white Mercury, Sable. I am certain that the ninety minutes Roberto and I spent together sharing and delving into each other's life experiences equaled a minimum of eight hours of paid therapy, so even though it was an expensive Uber ride, that long evening drive with my new favorite Brazilian was worth the hefty price tag.
During the eight hours before I met Roberto, I was working at my favorite hotel in downtown LA, the famed Westin Bonaventure, meeting and shooting photos and video of my friend Melanie, and a handful of other entrepreneurial speakers at the Small Business Expo.
Two of the inspiring Small Business EXPO speakers, Michelle and Melanie.
It was a fun and eye-opening day, but the most meaningful part did not have anything to do with the work itself, rather it was when I took a minute to check my email while listening to the headline speaker, and read a message from a woman who I consider both a good friend and role model, that jolted awake my lumbering life purpose.
Later that night, about twenty-five minutes after Roberto’s tail lights faded in the darkness, I hopped on my trainer in the garage and pedaled for nearly two hours pondering that powerful email.
The next morning I woke up feeling like I slammed into a brick wall. I had the energy level of a rusted battery.
I had workouts to complete and images to organize, but my main focus was eating, (a needful activity I barely accomplished the day before), and responding to my friend’s thoughtful email. Writing those words in my reply forced me to stare into the ever present, “What am I doing with my life?” theme that had been stuck on repeat in my mind for the last few weeks. I have been feeling guilty about making my athletic goals a priority for so many years, and questioning why I cared so much for so long? If I still should? And if I did, what else could I possibly hope to accomplish that would justify the time and energy investment I would have to make?
All day Friday, I felt numb. Then during an unscheduled, yet necessary Hail Mary mellow evening run, my legs came alive, and I felt the familiar rumble of goals starting to stir.
I woke up before my 5:30A alarm blared on Saturday morning, (always a good sign), loaded Simone into my Jeep, and drove to my favorite place, Malibu.
Before my ride....
Hillary assigned a fun and challenging ride, followed by my favorite run workout, a failsafe combo to align my head and heart, and put them back on track.
Not quite sticking the landing of my "post run" jump.
The fact is, what I have been struggling with, but at last feel has reconciled, is accepting that my life is different than most women my age. I don’t have young kids anymore, I don’t have a normal job, (neither does my husband), I can’t wear heels, (hammer toe), I can’t even locate my hair dryer, but I can find a soundtrack for any occasion, (IG Stories), and I can train hard everyday in the pursuit of personal records and personal satisfaction.
I got up just fine, and ran fourteen hilly miles the following Sunday.
So, do I plan to continue to train and race “balls to the walls” in triathlon deep into my forties and beyond? A question many people have asked me recently, and I have asked myself? The answer is...
Yes, I do.
Honestly, I am the most efficient and proficient in every other part of my life when I am focused on a triathlon goal. For example, after my soulful training day on Saturday, I finally hunkered down and edited the footage I shot at Ultraman Canada, and made a movie I hope Kat, Mark, and Melanie will cherish of our epic adventure together, and that all of you will enjoy.
The song choice this week is one of my all-time favorites, a tune I teased on Sunday, the classic from Heavy D and The Boyz, “Now That We Found Love.”