The Comfort Zone

I’ve been fairly committed to running for two years now, since the birth of my second daughter. I’ve run two half marathons, one full and various 10 and 5k’s. I’ve logged hours and hours and miles and miles. Running shakes the noise from my head; it brings me peace. I run alone, by choice.

The route I choose varies on my mood that day. Trails through the park are the most peaceful, but routes beside the blue glittering ocean take my breath away. After four years of being a mom and struggling with maintaining an identity outside of my children’s lives, I can honestly and proudly say that I am a runner.

Then I went and signed myself up for a triathlon. My first bike ride was, in a word, humbling. A 20k run? Sure! A 20k bike ride? Different story entirely. 30 minute run? I’d eat that up! 30 minute swim? Oh my.

Stepping outside of your comfort zone is frightening, and I’m realizing that the older we get, the more intimidating it becomes.

Every time I think about July 25 (race day) I get butterflies in my stomach. I’m worried I’ll be last, or that (worse) I’ll make a rookie mistake and that… well, that everyone will laugh at me. I’m afraid of swimming face first into a jelly fish and I have no idea what to wear under my wet suit. The list of minor and major concerns goes on and on and on.

Last week I was considering not doing the race. I spent a lot of time thinking about exactly how important this triathlon is to me. It’s not about pride or speed or bragging rights. I realized that it’s not really about the triathlon at all. This is about finding strength in myself, physical, yes, but mostly mental. This is about confronting meekness and throwing it out the window. This is about showing my daughters that there is nothing they can’t do if they really want it.

There will be no one to swim for me, no one to bike for me, no one to run for me. I know the taste of my own sweat, the feel of my own muscles burning. I know the satisfaction that comes with the culmination of training. I know how good it feels to burst across that finish line, legs wobbling underneath me. I know that once I finish I’ll probably say that I’ll never do that again, and I know that I probably will do it again.

This is about strength and resolve and faith and determination.

This is about breaking down the walls of my comfort zone.

This is about me.