Breathe in
Breathe out
It feels good doesn't it.
The New York Marathon.
The year I was going to turn 30, I ran the New York marathon. It was November 1999. That day is still on my list of ALLTIME GREATEST DAYS OF MY LIFE!
That year, I set a goal. I turned 29 just days before the Marathon - I had decided that I wanted to run the New York Marathon before I turned 30 - or in my 30th year (I later added to that goal I wanted to run two marathons that year so I also ran the Marin Corps Marathon in October 2000 - days before my 30th birthday). I think back to why I decided to do it - and I know it was a ton of reasons. I was feeling worried and anxious. I had moved to a new city and had settled in. I had finished law school and had a great new job working for the federal government. I had fantastic friends and really fun and exciting social life - but what I really wanted was to be married when I turned 30. At the time, I was in a relationship for over 10 years with a guy, and I think I knew I wasn't going to end up marrying him - although I desperately wanted to. I think the marathon was one step in getting myself back, and preparing myself for what I knew was going to happened eventually - a big breakup - a huge change in my life. I don't think I knew that at the time - but looking at back - I think I was affirming myself to myself...
You know choosing a huge challenge and accomplishing it - that is affirming.
I picked the New York City marathon because it is my favorite city IN THE WORLD.
I trained for about 6 months with a whole group of really great friends. The weekend of the race I organized events all weekend with family and friends - from a big pasta party in Little Italy with our whole running crew and all our friends and family to the post race meetup at a local Irish Pub downtown - it was all planned and choreographed - and sorta resembled a "This is your life Heather" segment as I had friends from every part of my life - high school boyfriend to law school buddies and yes, even the then boyfriend for over 10 years - celebrating with me all weekend and along the marathon route.
It was NEW YORK CITY and the entire race was lined at least 5 people deep with people cheering you on. My dad got my little running crew race shirts with our names on them - so for a little over 5 hours people in every borough of the city where chanting my name. ECSTASY. The greatest moment was when I turned the corner onto first avenue from the bridge from Queens and you hear this roar of the crowd - JUST AWESOME. In that moment - I knew what it must feel like to be Madonna - and it felt great. I crossed the finish line and knew I did the race in under 5 hours - my goal - and I was completely and totally happy and blissful. Pure. Joy.
Fast forward 14 years later...
The Iron Girl.
As I look back now, when I decided to do the Iron Girl, I knew my life was changing. I ended the blog. Jocelyn and I had begun to talk about my going back to work. It had been an awesome but very hard year for us as a family, individuals and a couple. I think I knew life as I knew it was about to change. So I coped in a predictable way. I figured out a really tough physical challenge to affirm to myself that I can do anything if I commit to it - apparently this is how I operate... and I went for it!
I trained with a very small crew. I bought a bike. I planned to go to spinning classes at the gym - but that never ever happened. I swam most times alone in the pool at the gym. I had training sessions for strength training with my trainer at the gym. I ran most days alone on Connecticut Ave - often the same streets I ran 14 years ago with my buddies when training for the marathon. On Saturdays, we went for long bike rides and bricks (bikes rides plus runs back to back) with a few very good buddies. I did a timed TRI trial at the gym for a triathlon and did much better than I expected - I did it alone while Jocelyn's was home with the kids. I didn't really follow a precise training schedule - I sorta synthesized from a few books. I read a bunch about triathlons but not much about the one I was actually doing?!?! I had trained pretty hard core up until about 5 weeks before the race... then we had the big vacation, I got sick and we had tons of family and friends and holidays... so I diverted a bit from the training plan... and didn't do that much.
And then just like that, it was race weekend. This time race weekend was planned in a kaleidoscoping chaos sort of way. Jocelyn, Jonah, Vera and I left early Saturday, September 7 in the morning and drove the two hours to Cumberland, MD. We drove directly to the YMCA to pick up our packets. Jocelyn picked hers up to get her schwag even though she wasn't doing the race. I started to feel emotional at packet pick up. This was really going to happen...
Then we drove directly to the Rocky Gap State Park so that I could "rack" my bike - not that I had any idea what the heck that meant... in any real way. But it was easy. I found my spot and set up my bike. The park was gorgeous. I saw the lake. The kids ran around and had a blast. But then it was time to get back to the car for the family adventure... (you knew there was going to be an adventure right?!?)
We drove back to downtown Cumberland to the Western Maryland Train Station. They have this old steam train that is super cool that takes you to Frostburg, MD through the historic Alleghany Pass on the historic train tracks. Once there, the engine is disconnected from the train and put on the turnaround and you see how they turn the original steam engines around. The kids liked the ride (although I did not realize it is an hour ride) and it was super cool to see the engine turn around. Then we hung out in Frostburg and visited the bookstore and the ice cream shop and then back on the train. Kids were tired and a bit less interested in the train ride back. Once back at Cumberland, we hung out and played at the playground right near the train station and then headed to our hotel - a few blocks away.
We all took showers and ordered in pizza and pasta and watched TV. Everyone was exhausted and fell asleep pretty quickly. The internet sucked so I had to go to the lobby to use the hotel computer to figure out what I actually needed to do on race day - because you see I had figured out the train ride excursion adventure perfectly but had not really focused on the particulars of the race... I met a few people in the hotel and read everything from the website and decided I would take a cab to the race site at 5am and Jocelyn would meet up with me later with the kids. I did not sleep at all. Nerves I guess.
I was relieved to get up and get dressed in my newly acquired Tri-suit and go. The cab was 15 minutes late but it was fine. I was at the race site by 5:30am. I went to my bike and laid everything out - not that I knew what I was doing. I just kept talking to everyone - and everyone was amazingly nice and supportive and helpful. The race is an all women race. It is hard to describe but it was like being at an all women's club meeting where you were with your best friends and everyone was totally into ensuring you had a great time and succeeded... pretty spectacular. Plus, we were in the most amazing space ever. When I arrived it was totally dark. After getting settled in, I left the transition area and went and sat a bench and watched the sunrise. I meditated. I was so happy. I was so just there. It had been a crazy couple of weeks. I had had a few interviews and I knew I was close to getting a job offer for one and maybe two positions. I had a final follow-up interview the next day for one of the jobs. Everything was about to change in my life, but first I would swim one half mile, bike 16 miles, and then run 2.5 miles - by myself with my spouse and kids cheering me on. I was about to become an Iron Girl - if I could be there and do it. I cried. Not a crazy cry. A soft cry of relief. Of happiness. Of being proud and scared. Appreciating the sunrise and everything else. And I breathed. I could smell the lake. The Gatorade. The air. The trees. The vinyl swim caps. The sweat. It was all right there. I could hear everything - through the music blaring I could hear random kids laughing, water moving, breeze whispering, dogs barking, the air going into the bicycle tires and the coffee swishing in the cups. It was all right there.
I ate a piece of my honey cake from Rosh Hashannah and washed it down with my Gatorade. If not now, then when. This was my moment.
I continued to talk to lots of people: the 70 year old woman who began doing triathlons at 65 and said she has never felt better, the woman who told me I just could not wear my water shoes, "Are you crazy? Have you ever swam a long distance with those clunky things - ditch them now!" that is what she told me and I listened. The other woman who told me she was from Washington DC but had drove up twice before to bike the course. It is HILLY she said - with no flats at all. She told me I must use my gears often and that I should not brake on the downhills and must use all the momentum to get up the next hill! I listened. There were lots of "groups" of women who came together as friends or official teams crowded together, cheering each other on. It felt so exciting to be there.
Around 7am I borrowed someone's phone and called Jocelyn. I told her I would enter the water at 7:45 and there was a viewing spot right at the water exit so that she could see me when I got out. I told her she should be there about 8:15 to see me get out. The next 45 minutes went very fast, because soon enough the called the hot pink caps (how ironic)... that was me! It was time!
The Race.
SWIM
I had pictured myself running into the water or jumping off a cliff. That is not what this was. This was a walking into the water start and then lining up at the start line? As we were walking in the announcer guy screams for us to stop - and makes a joke how we all looked 25 but this was supposed to be the 40 and over group - We all really liked that! I was still a bit hesitant as I have never really been in a lake before. I was a bit terrified of swimming in a lake. I love swimming. I love swimming in the ocean and I have done laps in the ocean before - but lakes - ICK! They are dark. Stuff grows on the bottom. So I walked in - the temperature was perfect but I went to a spot I did not have to put my feet down. There was a ton of plants and stuff - yuck! The water was dark. I treaded water for about 3 minutes and talked to the group near me - again everyone was awesome. Then the gun went off and we started. I let most people go in front of me, that was my plan. I knew I wanted to stay on the inside. A woman had told me - keep the buoys on your left and you will be fine. The course was a weird triangle and I was worried about getting lost... I finally started to swim but each time I put my head under I got disorientated... which was weird for me - but it was because the water was so dark... so I would catch my breath, breathe and try again. I did it a few times and then took a deep breath and I decided to just be with it all. Yes, I love to swim. Yes, swimming is my thing. Yes, I am a bit anxious about putting my head in the water which is weird. Yes, I am going to swim this. I swam the whole thing with my head up doing the breast stroke. I was slow. I was not tired at all. I was in the race and totally there and in control of my race. I was OK. I was better than OK I was good. I knew next time I would be able to do it differently but for then, I was going to swim my own race that is what I needed. Before I knew it, I was at the swim out gate and once out of the water - there they were - Jonah, Vera and Jocelyn. I WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE THEM. I ran up and gave them all a huge hug and I knew what an amazing thing I had just done. I was so happy. To the bike!
BIKE.
I got to transition and I totally had to pee. This is funny because I never have to pee. But I had a Gatorade in the morning and I had to pee. I was wet and in my tri suit and I had no idea what to do. I stood near my bike and just pee'ed, right there. Standing up like I was not doing it - I just did it. Then I dried myself off, put on my helmet, socks and shoes, then I drank some more Gatorade and got on my bike. Just like that. I was an athlete. I was in a race. I was going to bicycle in a race. I was happy. I walked my bike out to the shoot and got on. I was off. The hardest part for me was going to be this bike ride. I bought the bike for this race. I did maybe 9 rides on the weekend and like I said before, I hadn't ever got myself to spinning class - so I knew I could do this but was not sure what kind of shape I would be in. I was ready.
The first part out was flat and straight and then immediately you are going on this steep hill and I see all these people walking their bikes? I think this gave me license to get off my bike which I did, but then I had to get on it at the top WHICH IS SUPER HARD?!?!? WTF Sidenote: the worst part of riding for me is getting on and off the dam bike - I decided forget that -I would rather ride really slow than get off the bike. So that it was I did. And there were no flats. To me, they were mountains not hills. Lots of people passed me. I only got off one other time at the turnaround. I switched my gears lots. I did not break on the down hills - which I had never done before. I had never ridden my bike as fast as I did that day going down those down hills and riding them half way up the up hills. It was soooo quiet. Most of the time I was riding by myself with someone within eyesight in front of me. Many people passed me. Lots of people said really great things to me as they passed. Did I mention how beautiful it was. It was 8 miles on a country road lined with red barns and farms. There were cows mooing at me. Corn stalks swaying and saying hello to me. Horses cheering me own. As in, this stuff was within feet of my bike. Fields and animals and trees and flowers. We rode right into Pennsylvania. It was incredible. And it was HARD. The hills were really hard. I spoke to myself out loud - I just keep saying, UP, UP, UP... and I did not get off the bike. But I went slow at some points. Sometimes, people who were walking their bikes were going faster then I was riding mine - but I was going. Finally, I got off at the turnaround had Gatorade and got back on. Eight miles back. But it was so much easier going back. I think it was because I knew what to expect and I knew I could do it. I felt good. I felt like I was really a person who rides a bicycle. It was real and good and I was totally there. I looked for Jocelyn and the kids when I got to the Bike In shoot but did not see them. I racked my bike and took off my helmet. Put my UTLAW baseball cap on and grabbed my phone. Drank a little Gatorade and I was off.
RUN.
I ran out of the shoot and I never felt happier to be running. I could do this. I have run marathons. I mean I could walk the 2.5 miles if I needed to - but I felt great. I knew I could run it. It was going to be a bit hilly - that is what people had said earlier but I knew it would be ok. I had to get my Galloway timer working on my phone. I set it up and continued - I run a minute and then walk a minute - it is called the Galloway running method and I love it! Then I realized I should call Jocelyn and let her know where I was. So I did that and she was good and said she would see me at the finish - then I had to reset my timer program - so the first few minutes were a bit distracted but then I settled in. I had a really good run. Not as fast as I would have liked. I didn't feel tired but my walks were a bit slower than usually but I felt good. I finally started passing some people and even bumped into a few other Galloway runners so that was cool. The final leg into the finish line was downhill which was great. I came into the run in shoot and saw Jocelyn, Jonah and Vera and it felt great - I was running fast and did not stop. I gave Joc a big high five and sprinted into the finish and put my hands up when I crossed. When I stopped after I was through to get my medal - the tears came out and all I could say was, YES. YES YES YES. I did it. I was an Iron Girl. And everything else: a daughter, sister, wife, mother, lawyer, cancer survivor, friend, stay-at-home mom, person who loves to eat, drink, laugh, dance, sing, do projects, and use her kaleidoscope... YES. It was all there in that moment. I finished 822 out of 900 or so people. I finished and I was an Iron Girl.
I walked through to the opening and Jocelyn, Vera and Jonah jumped me. We found a picnic table and they gave me their sign and kisses and hugs. We took the best picture ever sitting at that table. Then we did all this walking around to get the car and all my gear and headed back to the hotel. We didn't really hang out there - I had my moment and we were off to a family party with Jocelyn's family at Shady Shide... So we did everything and I took a shower and changed and we got into the car. Just like that. I was an Iron Girl back with her family going to a Sunday party with more family - and life goes on.
The Irony.
Here's the thing. The race changed my life. But my life was already changing. Because nothing stays the same.
We did Tashlisch (Jocelyn, Jonah, Vera and I- tashlich is a Jewish ritual of throwing bread crumbs into a natural body of water after the Jewish New Year but before Yom Kippur as a way of "throwing away your sins before the new year" - it was emotional and corny to do it but great) at Shady Side because the house is one the water. It was wonderful. The kids said they would behave more and wanted to be forgiven for making wrong choices. Jocelyn and I both promised to be better parents and spouses. It was quiet and beautiful and meaningful.
I went to the follow-up meeting for the job that Monday and got the offer. That was it. Just like that I was going to be a working mom.
Things change. Things stay the same. Sometimes things that are so different in every way and 14 years apart can actually be very much the same. How ironic.
These past few days (has it been exactly two weeks ago that I became an Iron Girl) I can not stop thinking about the NY Marathon and the Iron Girl. How much they are a part of me. How they are just these races and not much else - but how for me they were so much more. How on the surface they seem like two totally different completely opposite experiences - almost as if two different people completed them - but really how at their core - they are so similar. It is somewhat ironic.
I think what I have realized is simple.
Even when you are completely engaged with a group friends doing a group activity for six months in one of the biggest, noisiest, most amazing cities in the world surrounded by all of your family and friends for 5 hours along an amazing route of sights and smells that culminates in the roar of crowds of people that mimics a great rock concert - it is ultimately you that crosses the finish line on your own - alone...
and
Even when you spend most of the time training by yourself for a race you will complete by yourself, and the race is in the middle of nowhere and it is quiet and serene and your fans are cows, corn stalks and horses, when you cross the finish line, you are not alone but everyone who helped you in every little and big way - whether it was your trainer, your cab driver, your buddies, the babysitter, your kids, the guy at the store who helped you pick out your trisuit, your facebook friends who posts their runs, the women who talked to you before the race or your spouse who has supported you in a million different ways both small and large are right there with you when you take those steps across the line...
You are always alone. You are always together. It is just how you look at it. How you experience it. How you remember it. Irony.
It is more wonderful that each time I learned something about myself. I am sure I now see this because of the mindfulness work I have been doing. But these races were symbolic physical expressions of challenges and changse that I anticipated. They were/are ways for me to be with myself and distract myself.
I am an Iron Girl now.
Tomorrow, I go back to work - my first day at my new job, ironically for the federal government...
Life has changed - or has it.
Life is good, really good.
Life is hard, really hard.
Just keep breathing - in and out (and swimming, biking and running... and working...)
I was able to capture my stay-at-home motherhood in a moment after the race when my kids kissed me.
Tomorrow I begin a new adventure. I am grateful that the Iron Girl race gave me a place to put the anxiety, excitement, apprehension and anticipation of becoming a working mom that was bubbling inside of me.
I can do this.
I knew that. I know it.
But it was great to get a kiss and medal as proof.
Thank you Iron Girl.
Hello New Job.
I still have that kaleidoscope in my back pocket...
To be continued... (maybe once a month or so I will check in with you guys... it is good for my soul!)
Oh the irony...
PS I hope to do Iron Girl next year too - who wants to join me!
 |
| Me at the NY Marathon finish line - Nov. 1999 |
