It’s not all about me

Training makes me selfish.

As the volume increases, the focus on “my” training increases as well. I open my eyes, and the first thought is that day’s workout. I close my eyes at night and think about what I did that day to get closer to achieving my goals.

Last week, I spent a lot of time brooding because I didn’t have a great week of training.

Physically, I wasn’t feeling so hot. I had tight hamstrings, general feelings of fatigue, and problems achieving my training targets on the bike.

Psychologically, I was starting to doubt my decision to run the Boston Marathon in the middle of my training for Ironman Lake Placid. John has decided to opt out of Boston so that he could pursue his goals for IMLP. Was I making a mistake? Would the taper and recovery time needed for Boston affect “my” goals for IMLP, too? With just two weeks to go to my first Boston marathon, these weren’t the type of questions I wanted to be asking myself.

Technologically, I had some trouble as well. In the middle of a tempo ride last Wednesday, the computer and the CompuTrainer lost communication with each other. I was completely irrational, freaking out as if someone had been maimed horribly by this brief blip in the technological infrastructure.

By the time the weekend rolled around, I was wearing a large pair of cranky pants, and I was ready for the week to be OVER. I had originally planned to run the Atlantic City April Fools 11k race on Sunday. However, after the week of training I had, it just didn’t seem to be the right decision. My body and mind were clearly communicating to me that it was time to CHILL OUT. So, I made the decision to opt out of the race.

Simply put: It just wasn’t my week.

As it turns out, I’m glad it wasn’t.

From left: Courtney, Wendy, Joanna, Erin, and Kelly
Courtney is bringing it home.

My friends Courtney, Wendy, Kelly and Joanna raced the April Fool’s 11k–their longest run yet. As I wrote in a previous post, I was lucky enough to help them with their training for the past 6 weeks.

On Sunday, I had the pleasure of watching them realize their goals, of watching their families look to them for the determined, strong and admirable role models they are. Last week was all about my friends.

I searched for them at the starting line among the large group of people assembled there. Thanks to their black and pink matching outfits and socks, they weren’t too difficult to find. I gave them a quick “good luck,” and then they were off.

When the time came that the first of my friends would be heading into the home stretch, I stood just behind the finish line, anxiously awaiting the succesful finish to this race for which each of them had worked so hard.

Kelly is all smiles at the finish.

As I stood there, I watched the various runners cross the finish (there was a 7k in addition to the 11k), some triumphantly raising their fists in the air, some gasping for air and letting the relief of finishing wash over them, some smiling and waving eagerly to friends and family who cheered them from the sidelines.

I weeped and cheered and clapped for the 800 finishers of this race, empathizing completely with the feeling of accomplishment that comes from the celebration of achieving goals that one has worked so very hard to realize.

As I saw my friend Courtney approach the finish line, I yelled to no one in particular, “There she is!” and proceeded to take a ridiculous amount of pictures. We high fived as she slowed to a stop.

“That was awesome! So fun!” She exclaimed. I know exactly how she feels. In that moment, her excitement washed over me. I am grateful that she let me share in her moment.

Joanna running to the end of the line.

Courtney was followed shortly by Kelly, Joanna, and Wendy, smiling, high fiving, and letting the wave of euphoria flow within and around us.

Each of my friends had their families standing close by–husbands and children–ready to cheer and congratulate “mommy” as she crossed that finish line.

I saw in the eyes of my friends’ children feelings of excitement, admiration for their mothers, and the notion that maybe–just maybe–they too might race in a race like this one some day. The kids raced each other around the boardwalk, showing their mothers they had moxy and mettle too.

Proud husbands talked about the hard work their wives had put in; they hugged my friends, told them how proud they were of their hard work and accomplishment.

After the race, we celebrated and I listened to my friends’ tell their race stories.

I reveled in re-living each moment with them: the nervous excitement of the starting line, passing other racers, feeling like they wanted to stop but pushing through it, the exhilaration of

Go Wendy! Woop! Woop!

the finish line, and the joyful celebration with friends and family in the endorphin-laden moments immediately following the finish.

They graciously thanked me for the advice I gave them. But, I am the one that must thank each of these special women for re-teaching me what running a life is all about: Community, camaraderie and celebration.

Cheers to you, my friends! Your friendship, your wisdom, your inspiration makes my life – and the lives of many others – so much better. And, that’s what it’s all about.

Courtney is bringing it home.