My medical incident two weeks ago forced me into a pretty steep taper. The only running I have done is to medical centers for tests and exams in an ultimately vain process to diagnose the cause of my chest pains, the numbness in my hands and legs, and the reason I passed-out.
Yet as scary as it was — and continues to be: I am still meeting with neurosurgeons and cardiac specialists, none of whom really know for sure what is wrong with me — I felt a bit relieved, too. Because I survived the Vineman.
The last time I did any swimming was at the SJIT and I have been slacking on my running and cycling since May. A “medical emergency” was a perfectly understandable and convenient reason to scratch from a race. My doctors, my parents, my brother Jeff, and Lauren were all telling me to skip the Vineman.
But I knew that I would regret doing so. The Vineman Half-Ironman Triathlon was a large step forward on my journey to complete an Ironman Triathlon. And so stubbornly, I started the race… and only because I was so stubborn did I finish.
Somewhere in between “go!” and “done!” I came to understand that an event of this intensity, an activity that demands this much endurance, was going to be conquered not if I had trained my legs and lungs enough so that I could, but rather if I was mentally strong enough to believe that I would.
So I swam 1.2 miles in the Russian River, biked 56 miles over the rolling hills of Sonoma County, and ran 13.1 miles from and back to the tiny town of WIndsor. It hurt. A lot. But I did it. And today I am half a man; half an Ironman, that is. Not too shabby for a Sunday afternoon.
Now I need to sleep. Click here to browse my photo album of the Vineman Half-Ironman Triathlon. We’ll talk soon. Until then…
Run With It!
J.R. Atwood
