Wildflower, Part 2
May, 2013
Last weekend, I faced a year-long fear of the triathlon Wildflower and went back to stand up to the demons of last year. A little more prepared and ready, a little more confident, and a little more aware of what lay ahead. Which, for those who have done Wildflower, is mostly just more and more hills. And sure enough, while it was hot and windy and the hills got no smaller in the past 12 months, I thoroughly enjoyed a day of sunshine, swimming, biking, running, shot blocks, new friends, and of course, non-stop feasting to follow.
The feeling of elation running through the chute at mile 70.3 is one I cannot begin to verbalize. There are no words to describe the emotion that has overcome me only a few times in my life. It is finally, at this moment, that the feeling of working your ass off for months and months, culminating in spending a somewhat miserable day pushing through disomfort- both physical and emotional- that each second of misery is worth it. “Claire Diepenbrock, San Francisco, CA’” To hear those words while crossing the blue timing mats, sprinting for the end goal, the finish line, gives me a life high not matched by anything else I have ever done or could even imagine. People you don’t know cheering you on. A medal put around your neck. A row of chairs, cold water, and fresh fruit awaiting. It is simply put, the best feeling you can imagine.
That is why I personally choose to spend my time (and money!) doing these things. I am not out there to compete, although of course it is always the goal to beat your own PR. The reason I love marathons and 70.3 triathlons is because it defines goal setting in its most perfect essence.
1. Setting a goal
2. Determining the steps and route to achieve this goal
3. Launching these steps- usually with big eyes and over eagerness
4. Usually there is a lull in the steps. Can I do this? I don’t wanna!
5. Sucking it up, overcoming step 4, and pressing on. Smile back
6. Executing
7. Achieving!
Obviously, like all goals in life, there will be bumps in the road, setbacks, and a list of legitimate or not-so-legit reasons for giving up and giving in. For returning to what is comfortable, known. Safe.
For me, long races are the pinnacle of a reminder that if we press on through the hard times, the big hills, and the heat, there will be a cold cup of water , shiny metal, and an overwhelming feeling of victory at the end.