I love the 4th of July. Not so much for the late night fireworks that blast incessantly well past midnight, but because it is a clear sign that we have tipped over into the second half of the year. I like January through June, but I love July through December. It is the time of year stacked up to be action-packed with the pursuit of BIG goals and finished off with the promise of a well-earned Holidaze.
Although I have been running and riding quite a bit the last couple of months preparing for a solo 10K on the track (quickly approaching) in a couple weeks, and building some bike fitness in order to hang with Heidi during her loooong training weekend in Flagstaff in early June, (as well as just chipping away at becoming a stronger cyclist), the point of swimming has been unclear, which I believe is why there is one official late Summer event that took me longer than usual to sign up for this year.
It has been a seasonal staple the last five years. I assumed I would do it in January, but as the months ticked by, especially the last two since finishing Ironman St. George, I felt a consistent and overwhelming feeling that I just didn’t want to do it. I also didn’t think I needed to do it, that I would be fine without it this year, but the underlying meaning of participating in this particular event runs far deeper than the actual effort on the day.
Thankfully a thunderclap of clarity woke me up last Tuesday morning, and I finally felt the urge to sign up. I realized that I did need to do it for one reason, the only reason, because feats of endurance are my love language. I choose to take on physical, mental, and emotional challenges because doing so is the most authentic way I express love for other people, and for myself.
The goal is to always be a better and stronger version of myself every day, selfishly and selflessly, because if I can be the best for me, I can be the best for everyone else. But achieving the growth I am after requires discomfort. It often means choosing the hard way. And personally, the endurance flavor that is the hardest for me to swallow, to succeed in, and is the most uncomfortable requires two parts Hydrogen and one part Oxygen, that’s right, water.
Yadda, yadda, “I’m a terrible swimmer,” yadda, yadda. I know. I’ve said it, written it, and believed that ringing sentiment for years, I am a terrible swimmer, and *SPOILER ALERT* I still feel that way. In fact, that feeling of insecurity of never becoming a decent swimmer might not ever go away, but even more than being a somber defeatist, I am a stubborn Optimist.
Therefore, I will continue to sign up for the Dwight Crum Pier To Pier 2-mile swim every year they have it (swimsuit division) because it is hard, because it scares me, and because doing it is my way of showing my friends, family, athletes, coach, and myself that I will walk my talk (or swim my talk) and choose growth over comfort every chance I get.
And because love is stronger than disappointment.
Furthermore, I will continue to stare at this gigantic goal en route to swimming under 1:05 in an Ironman written on an index card I have taped next to my desk numerous times a day until one day it doesn’t make me shudder, but instead makes me smile.
Today is not that day.
But I still plan to do the work necessary every day until suddenly it is.
The song and video choice this week is a pick from Kelly Clarkson that hits on how I feel about swimming's role in my life.:) Enjoy.