Fighting Beeline Demons

I have begun to reinsert myself back into the world of triathlon. And I love it. It will culminate in a race later but for now it's just a reconnection with my team. I went to the OW swim workout Saturday and the bike ride on Sunday. The ride happen to be on the Beeline highway, one full lap of the Ironman Arizona course.

Now I am not a superstitious person, but I will tell you that I thought about riding the Beeline a lot in last few days. For those that feel they are missing the "Why" of this, I injured myself quite badly on the bike course of Ironman Arizona in April 2008.

The team was doing two loops of the course, many of them are doing IMAZ this month. I was emphatic that I would only do one loop. Not just to diffuse any potential goading later on from my friends, but to remind me to not goad myself into doing two.

I have rode this loop a hundred times, but not once in the last 18 months. I still knew all the landmarks and where the slightest changes in elevation was as well as the mileage between points. All the things that become memorized from the boredom of going up and down the road.

Everything in the first few miles had gone right. I was on time for the ride and I had all my gear. I even changed my first rear tire flat in over a year in under six minutes. I had not lost a mental beat in the game, it was emotional. For better or worse we stopped at the gas station on the corner of McDowell and the Beeline to wait for a late arrival. Sitting there at the base of the highway for ten minutes, it felt like someone had called a time out in football to ice the kicker. I wasn't all that sure I wanted to ride to the top. The demons were eating at me.

I was lucky enough to ride with my two primary training partners the entire time. We kept it light and fun. The closer to the top of the course the steeper it gets and the wind was strong so the pace dropped. I think they where playing with me, because they kept saying their computers were screwed up and asking me what the speed and distances were so I would have some more confidence in my ability.

When we reached the IMAZ course turnaround, I was starting to feel the pump in my legs, my butt was sore, my upper back and arms were weakening. I looked at my friend Jeff and I remarked, "I don't know how I maintained that level of pain for four hours. I have no idea how I made it up this hill for a third loop in the shape I was in."

All I heard from him was laughter. A laughter laced with all the nervousness and compassion of a buddy who really didn't have the words or want to express some of the things he was thinking about me too. I realized I had not said what I said with pain but with humor. I laughed back.

The last time I rode back down this course I had a police and ambulance escort. I think the cop was bored but the ambulance guys were truly concerned because I refused their aid at the turnaround during the race because it would take me out of the race. This time I rode strong with my friends. I went to the top and I was good. I didn't cave into fear or make excuses. Riding back I had joy again. When they all turned around at the bottom to go up one more loop, I continued on my way back to the car. Only one lap.

Since last year I had a habit of telling people that every day was a bonus day. Like it was a gift from God, that I had to find some sort of meaning in. Completing that one loop of the IM course Sunday lifted a bigger weight off my mind than I thought I had on it.

I realize now its not enough to just exist, I want to live.