Y’all I registered for Ironman Texas. Not sure what I was thinking.
An Ironman has been on my radar for several years. The idea was planted shortly after my son was born. We bought a BOB Ironman branded running stroller and my husband made some comment in passing about needing to do an Ironman since we had the stroller. My immediate response was, “Have you lost your mind?!”
But the more I thought about it, the more the idea appealed to me. I put it on my bucket list, along with running Boston and completing an ultra.
Last fall, I started to think about life after Boston. I’d dedicated a large chunk of physical and emotional energy to that race, and I knew I’d be battling some severe post-marathon blues. Having another goal was important to get me through the inevitable post-race let down.
Around that time Ironman came up in a conversation with a friend and it made me think about it again. Perhaps that’s what I needed to focus on after Boston? I’ve been batting the idea around since then – thinking it over in my head, and talking to friends about it. No commitment. Just talk.
I talked to several friends who have completed the half and full Ironman distance. They know me, they know my fitness level, they know my training schedule…they all said I could do it with no problem.
I would love to say I have all the confidence in the world but I’m truly terrified and that’s what kept me from registering when it opened the week prior.
On Monday afternoon, I drank a beer (liquid courage!), and pulled up the IMTX registration page. I slowly started filling out the form telling myself that nothing was official until I entered my credit card information…
…when I got to the payment screen I just stared at my computer. Did I really want to do this? I’ve never done a triathlon so clearly an Ironman is a good place to start, right?
Staring at that payment screen, my heart raced and my hands shook. Knowing there’s no better time than the present, I typed in my credit card info and hit submit before I had a chance to change my mind.
Holy. Crap.