...don't call it a comeback

I've been feeling pretty bummed lately and haven't been able to lift myself out of the funk. I haven't even been writing because I didn't feel like I had anything to write about. I sort of felt like a fraud. Always telling people they can do anything when I proved otherwise. I haven't even looked at my bike since my DNF. I've continued running because that will always be my first love but I had completely fallen out of love with triathlon. My heart wasn't in it and I couldn't convince myself to just "push through" anymore. I even gave up my 140.6 registration after I had a come to Jesus moment with myself and realized I didn't have what it takes to tackle that goal this year. Maybe one day, but my heart and soul weren't in it anymore so I had to let go. I thought that would help me find peace and it didn't. I kept searching for something to bring me some light when all I felt was darkness.

Truth be told, I didn't even really have anyone to talk to about it. I didn't want to keep hearing "its ok, its behind you now". I know its ok, I know I can't change it, but that doesn't take away the pain. That doesn't give me back the confidence I lost. It doesn't repair the cracks in my soul. I'm sure it sounds dramatic, but it isn't just about the race. I guess I can't really describe what its like because unless you've been here, you probably wouldn't understand.

I've spent time catching up with friends and really enjoying myself without the stress of a training schedule and deadlines. I needed some time away but I knew I needed to get back on track or I might continue to stray and lose myself yet again. So tonight I spent some time with other triathletes. We shared stories of defeat and triumph. I got tips on how to improve and how to avoid cramps so as not to have a repeat of my last race. I finally started to feel like I might want to get back into it. I came home and for the first time since I was pulled from that course in July I actually looked at my bike.

I sat there and cried as I thought of how far I have come. There was once a time when I couldn't even run a mile and here I was beating myself up because I didn't finish a 70.3 mile race. It seems silly now to think that I could be so hard on myself for "only" finishing the first 65ish miles. I let the tears stream down my face and I embraced the suck. I reflected on what triathlon really meant to me and whether or not I was ready to give it up. I'm not. I wiped my tears, got up off the ground and put my bike back on the trainer. I set my Garmin to charge and tomorrow morning I'll get up early and ride again. It might not be for long but its a start. I'm ready.