Race Day Results

You know how a juicer takes the center of a lemon and just grinds it back to nothing but the peel?  How the contents just pour out all over the place?

That's how I feel now that the boys' triathlon is finished.  Poured out.  Done.  Physically exhausted.

You'd think that I, PERSONALLY, did the entire race course.

I didn't realize how much I had vested in this thing until last week.  And the build-up to this week has been nothing short of volcanic in nature.  Pressure.  More pressure.  Too much pressure with no way to escape....

UH OH.  THERE SHE BLOWS! I blew the gasket of worry and anticipation and expectation right out of this world sometime during the last ten minutes of the boy's races. 

I watched each of them give the swim everything they had.  I cheered like a banshee for every kid that exited the pool while I waited.  And I took too many pictures.

I waited nervously for each biker to make his way back to the transition area, hoping they would rack their bikes in exactly the right position.  And I held the sign that our neighbors had made, that announced we were proud of the boys and encouraged them to keep going.

I cheered my guts out as they hit the field and made their way around it.  Every boy found that superhuman strength that defies logic in the very last few yards.  And they each made a mad dash for the finish line.

And then it was all over.  They were wearing their hard work on their faces.  And they were all beaming.

I'm not entirely sure it has struck any of them, this thing they accomplished.  But, it was certainly not lost on me.

This is big, this persistence.  This hard work, three or four times/week, for six weeks.  The early starts.  The heat.  The humidity.  The muscle aches. 

All.totally.worth.it.

There is so much more than finishing a race.  There is appreciation for three individual sports.  There is appreciation for bundling those sports and adding another dimension of hard to the equation. 

And there is pride.  Not haughty arrogance, but appreciation.  For what they have done and what they know they can do again.

And me?  I just can't stop smiling when I think about it all.  I am proud too.  Proud for them.  Proud of them.  Proud because of them.

This is one of those perfectly ripe, golden days.  A day I'll hold up as an example to my boys, whenever I need to remind them of the value of dedication and persistence and not giving up, even when it is hard and stressful and quitting seems the most logical conclusion.

And, as you look back on today, I pray that you remember:
There is no harm in stepping out on a limb to try something new.  That is where passion is often found.
 When the going seems tough, you are almost at the finish line.
And, maybe most importantly:

When you set your mind to something, there is nothing that can hold you back!