Haunted By A Ghost- Ironman Texas

 Yesterday and last night was Ironman Texas and I wasn't there.  I spent the day doing yard stuff and building fences., thinking about the event.   There is nothing wrong with yardwork or fence building.  I love yardwork and fencing but I say that only to provide contrast; a before and after view, so to speak.  

For some reason this year, Ironman Texas has haunted me like a ghost, before, after, and during.  Why?  Is God trying to tell me something?  Nothing has changed in life to provoke this almost unnatural chain of thought.  Perhaps it is because doing an ironman is so impossible for me now. May be this is the last holdout attempt to fight the realization that I am over the hill. 

But keeping an ear to the ground about ironman and the people doing it has enlivened my spirit in the process.  This enlivened spirit has added so much to the day.  The bad thing is that the word "maybe" crept into my thinking process.  The internal conflict goes something like this:

"No, it's over."  

 "But maybe."  

"No more maybes We have been here lots of times. It's over." 

"Yeah, that's probably true. I need to move on."

But I can't help it.  My version of "moving on"  is trending toward finding some impossible way to do this ironman.  Wrong thinking I know but I keep being haunted by  quotes like."

"The only impossible journey is the one you didn't begin." 

Or, " Live for the moments you can't put into words."

If this "impossible journey" is to "live for those moments I can't put into words. " If I keep being haunted by the "what if" and I can't resist the urge to "find the climb" then God help me before I hurt myself.

Training in the Dark

 

By now I see that I won't ever stop training.  Life events have taken most of the opportunities to compete but I seem to get up and go after training each day like there was a good reason for it.  I am training almost with the same purpose and intent as when I trained for events.  And I wonder: what is wrong with me?  

Perhaps there is a part of me that won't give up completely.  Maybe the training is the holdout in the process of complete surrender, and I just don't want to go there.  

And perhaps training has become so much of who I am that I can't give it up if I want to.  Perhaps it is my tattoo that I won't have removed no matter what.  Maybe age and circumstance have taken all except this, but I think I have drawn my line in the sand on training  Till death do us part, so to speak.  

At the same time, when I finish my workouts and feel proud and grateful to God for this ability, I am still saddened somewhat that I can't take the results of my training anywhere anymore.  Its strange but training makes me glad and it makes me sad, at the same time. No matter.  My gratitude outweighs my sadness.  And, I thank God for all the events and training I have done in the past and ask Him for more health and opportunity to train in the dark.