Creating Momentum for a Change

Creating Momentum for Change

Sprint Ladies

Front row from left to right: (in pink) Melissa Bird,  Rose DuVall, Judy Kanagy,  Chris Beyer, Colleen Bracchi, Kay McCormack, Debbie Butkus, Back row from left to right: Sandy Venderstoep, me, Sue Scott, Casey Scott (wearing the crown)

Entering a triathlon had been somewhere on my lengthy, life-long bucket list. At sixty-six, and being more than a bit overweight, my participation seemed unlikely, yet the timing was right for me to enter a Sprint Triathlon, which covers about a quarter of the ground of their Olympic cousin. Typically, the sprint events involve an ocean, lake, or river 750-meter (0.47-mile) swim, 20-kilometer (12-mile) bike, 5-kilometer (3.1-mile) run.  An Olympic-distance triathlon remains a 1.5-kilometer swim, (.9 mile) 40-kilometer bike ride  (25 miles) and a 10-kilometer run (6.2miles).  Like all adventures in life, my goal was tested by some unexpected events.

I have always loved athletics but never considered myself an elite athlete. As a daily discipline of being loving to me for the last few months, I rose at sunrise, and headed to the swimming pool to churn through the water for forty-five minutes to an hour, thinking and organizing my thoughts.

One morning, I decided to sleep in a little and went to the pool a little later than usual. The day before, I had visited my long-term friend and doctor, prior to an upcoming international trip. Where I was traveling in India, there were no required shots, yet after factoring in my age, and looking at the location, my doc insisted that I receive four vaccines. The extra sleep set me up for a delightful surprise.

I ran into my friend Becky whom I had not seen for weeks, and we shared a lap lane in the local pool. I hadn’t swum with Becky before and remarked that she was a very strong swimmer.  I was curious if she had competed as an adult. She went on to share that she had participated in a masters swim program as well as completed the “Tri for the Cure” the summer before.  That conversation sparked my journey.

 “Becky, are you doing the Tri- again this year?” I asked with great anticipation of wanting to join her.

 She replied, “There’s a support party on Sunday. Do you want to join us?” She hadn’t decided whether she was entering, but promised to send me both an invite to the party and the registration for the triathlon supporting breast and ovarian cancer research.

It didn’t take much thought to follow through with this spontaneous decision, even though I hadn’t trained in anything but swimming. I didn’t own a bike. My husband, Sonny, would have turned seventy, on the day of the race. This was a special way to honor him. Not competing in this triathlon would leave me with deep regret. I really felt my soul calling me to accomplish this goal, my first triathlon, so I sent off my registration and the fee.

I recognized the hostess’ name as a person I knew over forty years ago. I smiled, as I realized that I was not going to be alone in this first Triathlon attempt. I had a support group. More importantly they would not all be strangers.

Mental preparations began with a list of things that needed to happen to complete this courageous goal.  I needed to borrow a bike, as I didn’t own one. Then there were bike shorts, bike gloves, and a water bottle to fit on the bike. I was trying to spend as little money as possible, as the entry fee hadn’t been in my tight budget. The list of what I was asking for grew.

During this time of making phone calls to borrow key items, and right after my swim with Becky, I realized I had been lethargic and running a low-grade fever. Assuming the fatigue and nausea was a reaction to my immune system from the four vaccines, I thought it would run its course in a day or two. My instinct was to keep a low profile of activity. I couldn’t even continue my daily swim as that appeared to elevate my fever. I was on a routine of reading, writing, and coloring in bed, keeping myself hydrated and immersed myself in positive thoughts about surviving the vaccines and the triathlon.

Believing the fever would pass, I continued calling my friends to find the basic necessities for the triathlon. The first call I made was for a bike and van that I had borrowed before, but they were both being used for a bike-riding weekend. I remembered I had ridden with a friend about eight years ago, so I called her and discovered that her bike was available. She also had bike shorts and a small fanny pack.

I hadn’t talked much about the triathlon with many of my friends prior to registering, as it was an impulsive decision. Calling friends as I gathered the things required to complete this challenge, I soon realized I had to be more selective in which friends to share my warrior attitude of going from the bed to a triathlon I had not trained for—particularly as my fever stayed with me for more than ten days. Some of these friends were saying, “Merril, you haven’t trained. You’re not ready to do this.”

Four days before the marathon, I still was running the low grade fever.  In the past, I might have heeded the messages of others when I really knew I should trust my own gut. I had done a lot of personal healing over the last year, and I was beginning to trust my intuition and myself, more and more. I knew the triathlon was right for me.

I also felt there were those “friends” who seemed jealous of me entering the race. In reality they were in better shape then me, and had always wanted to enter a triathlon but hadn’t for whatever reason. Their comments, about my health, and all the reasons why I shouldn’t enter the event were covering the undertone vibrations that they wished they had entered.  It reinforced my decision to quit sharing about my entry. I truly believed I could accomplish this goal and be loving to me. I wouldn’t run the risk of letting anyone else's opinions get in my way. I stayed on my own internal path, strengthening myself, my focus, and enhancing my intentions of finishing the triathlon. I felt totally empowered, and I had no negative toxic thoughts, or doubts. I had an opportunity to be loving to me while I did the race, and amaze myself. Putting my emphasis on my heart centered goal, and trusting my good judgment was all I needed.It was meant to be. I did have wonderful friends encourage me, and I was so grateful for the initial support of Becky and Jeannie, as their efforts were crucial in my ability to enter the Triathlon.

The time for Sunday’s party came quickly. The purpose of the party was to organize carpools, teach the newbies like me what to pack, and how to organize our stuff for triathlon transitions. I was assigned a van to ride in, that would also transport my borrowed bike, a time and place to meet for the carpool We were also given a list of what to bring, how to pack, and our group of twelve women’s phone numbers and addresses. I was now a member of this positive group of women. They had all been training together; the camaraderie was enhanced by everyone’s warmth and sense of humor. A highlight of the evening was the placing of the long lasting tattoo’s we wear to represent our group. As I put on my tattoo, I became an official Kay Belle, triathlete.

My Kay Belle tattoo!

(to be continued)