Don’t Call It A Comeback

I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason. I’d like to think so, but there’s just too many bad things that happen for me to feel all in on it. But whether things happen for a reason or they do not, I don’t really have the head space to analyze everything. Most of the time, it is what it is. I do look back on the last few years and feel like there’ some sort of guiding force. As you know from my prior writings, I am an avid endurance athlete. Somewhere in between moving my family to Summerville and Covid and watching my kids deal with so much nonsense and disappointment, I got lost. I was injured several times, injuries that seemingly made no sense to me, and suffered from some sort of depression. Where they there to teach me a lesson? Possibly. I’m willing to learn. I’m tired of it, but I will learn. I could go a few years without finding a lesson.

When I was in grad school last summer and fall, I learned a ton about myself. It was therapeutic. When I had to quit grad school, I felt lost. I didn’t want to quit something I started and wanted to finish. I applied to so many jobs, and I was really picky how I wanted to spend my time. I was turned down, even without an interview, so many times. It was crushing to my spirit, so much so, I almost started counseling myself.

I look back now with a sense that things really were supposed to happen the way they played out. I was supposed to send my youngest to private school (where he is so happy and thriving, thankfully), I was supposed to be in school for those two semesters and have those professors, and learn those specific things about myself. As much as I miss Wilmington, we are supposed to be here and Tyler is supposed to go to Clemson. And I was supposed to refinance my house with a company recommended on my neighborhood Facebook page. I now work there. If that’s not ironic, I don’t know what is.

The lessons we have learned the last few years have been tough. Instead of crossing my arms and refusing to learn, I have embraced the suck, I’ve learned, and I’ve grown. And it’s time to move on. I feel different, I feel better, and I feel stronger. It’s time to wave goodbye to the past, turn around, and move forward.

It’s time to tri. It’s time to marathon. I’ve been patient, and I’ve healed. I’ve gotten my competitive spirit back. I can envision competing again, where for so long, I couldn’t even picture it. Now I can see it. I can feel it. I can hear it. I feel like a runner again, even with the extra weight I haven’t lost yet.

So first thing up on my schedule is IMNC 70.3. I love this race. I need this race. This is my first and the only half ironman course I’ve ever done (three times so far), and I love it. It’s home to me. It will be a different training routine for me since I’m working full time. I’m not sure how to navigate it, but with Coach Sami, my love for competing, and of course, my husband who always steps up to fill in where I am lacking, it will be exciting to take on this challenge. I am finally ready.  Do I have a time goal? HELL TO THE NAW. I’m almost positive I won’t even be wearing a watch (I might because I get points for my health insurance but might try to turn the data off if I can).

Instead of writing about being injured and frustrated and all that, I look forward to writing about training, about what’s working or not, new people I meet through training in a new city, and swimming again. My kryptonite. Swimming. But part of the reason I signed up for a tri is it forces me out of my comfort zone. Funny, as I watch Olympic swimming on TV, they’re swimming the 4×100 m relay and I’m thinking it would be at the 25 when they’re done, lol.

This is the finish line of the men’s triathlon at the Olympics. As much as I enjoy pushing myself, not sure I’m ready to feel like this when I’m done.

As I wave bye bye to the past while remembering the lessons that were taught, I look toward the future. I’m excited about the future and all it can hold, the potential of what could be. For the first time in a very long time, I look forward to being uncomfortable, to pushing myself, to making things right in my little athletic world. Don’t call it a comeback though.

Categories: Uncategorized | 4 Comments

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4 thoughts on “Don’t Call It A Comeback

  1. Connie Nolan

    Excellent post once again👍🥰


  2. Wahoo! I’m excited for you! Welcome back to having a competitive spirit!

  3. I admire so many things about this. You are writing again (it is excellent as you are a writer). And you have an itch that you’re ready to scratch! I can relate to this in many ways and have been going through a little athlete identity crisis of my own… Thanks for spreading the hope and joy of goals!

  4. So much respect for baring your soul in this post. There has been some very tough times, both physically with injuries and with career. That has got to be very discouraging to have so many rejections in the job hunt.

    So glad the injuries are healed and you are back working. Excited for you as you get back in training for your Ironman. 😀🙌

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