The Venues May Be Different But the Race is Still the Same

Exactly a month since my last blog entry.  It is sort of like a winding down to nothing; a road seemingly to nowhere. The Corona Virus has all of us by the throat and it is getting worse.  The heat obviously has no effect on it as some had hoped. Event after event gets cancelled.  Nothing remains safe to look forward to, but yet, we must go on.  The heat and humidity here are oppressive which makes isolation and apathy that much easier to bear.   I would have  hoped for something more vigorous in the last years of my life.

It has given me time to work on my stories and my books I want to publish before I depart.  One book is entitled, Bends in the River depicting  early adventures along a large river and and those influences upon my life embracing nature in all its beauty and power.   One other book is called, A Day Unlike Any Other Day, which follows my triathlon and ironman attempting career to that final day of ultimate testing.  These are complete except for the editing and book design.

I will probably do hard copy and electronic publishing.  What seems interesting to me at least is the vast distances in those two subjects.  Digging deeper it might be said that there aren't that many differences at all.  The venues may different but the race is still the same for the participant.
So, it seems I have dramatically changed but in essence, remained the same.  I hope that makes sense as I hope these books do.  At this stage of life as I embrace the nearness of my  eternal future  in the presence of an uncertain,  foreboding future, on this earth, I feel closer to myself and to God in writing and editing them.    If for no other reason experiencing this peace within the storm  is all worth it.  It has been worth it all along.

Week 17 - Training for Ironman Texas 2020 - Blessed

Last week was OK; not great, not stinko, but a good plodding forward OK.  In plodding forward it is pretty quiet.  There are no cheering sections on my roads when I run or alongside my bike as I pedal.  In fact, my ironman journey is not a subject of conversation at all among family and friends, that is, except my number one fan:  my wife.  Most of the time I don't even take notice that my cheering section is quite silent or the absence of motivation or inspiration from other people.  I have grown accustomed to it as I would bet, they have grown accustomed over the year to my training for an ironman.  Understandably I can see how ironman has lost its value as a conversational piece.  ( The striving and failing at Ironman so many times will be in my book - A Day Unlike Any Other Day - coming out soon.)

And too, at my age, the people I used to be involved in athletic pursuits with have grown too old, become disabled, or died.  These people were not replaced and that was my choice.  It was my choice to live and train in by myself in a non-athletic environment.  Most people I know and am associated with have only a vague notion of what an ironman is.  Perhaps they have generally assumed that I have a mental problem but I am not dangerous so I can be tolerated well.

So my reflection - as I enter the 18th week of my training - is a realization of how alone I am in all this except for my wife and God.  My how things have changed; how I have changed; how motives, goals, and purposes have evolved. Growing older does have its advantages; there is so much you can leave behind that you once thought vital. And I find that at the end of the day what remains is love:  the love of my wife as she totally loves and supports me in this with genuine heartfelt cheers and inspiration.  I am blessed.  And undergirding this entire effort and every step in the journey is God; the "wind beneath my wings." His love and support are genuine, total, and sustaining.  I am blessed.