Barb and I talking after I pulled out of the race. 

It's all part of the journey.

The journey is rocky, unpredictable, and I stumbled and fell.  I pulled out of a race Sunday, 16 October.  I wouldn't have conceived of doing that last season.  But, surprisingly, it wasn't a fail.  It was another step in the journey.  All the things I learned Sunday are lessons I needed to learn before Nepean. 

I had swum about 300 meters.  I had begun stopping already.  Each time I rested, I took longer and longer to recover.  A voice inside my head said, "You can't possibly swim that whole way."  I looked at the buoy.  It was so far away.  The voice became emphatic:  You won't be able to make it.  Your body can't cope.  Everyone around you is gone.  The spotter is walking with YOU!  You are dragging the race down.  You better get out of the water. 

Glenn W. approached me on the board and asked if I wanted a rest.  I jumped on the board and asked to go in.  He seemed surprised, but I knew I was defeated.  My body, my mind, my heart had all joined forces to undermine my fighting spirit.  They won this time.

But not for long.

After doing my civic duty by informing officials and my husband that I'd finished for the day, I sat by my bag and went inward.  My body was shaking and tingling.  I lay down on the grass and looked up at the ceiling.  I closed my eyes.  What happened? 

First, I have actually been sick.  I don't know what I've had, but I haven't been 100% since July.  This has really psyched me out. I don't feel powerful. I don't feel like I'm making progress.  I feel foolish, tired and old.  These are all things out of my control and this is usually the kind of reasoning I use to talk myself out of something.  This is the obstacle in my path, my own personal dragon. 

I do races and triathlon because it's something I don't feel I'm capable of doing.  If I was good at it, it wouldn't be the same kind of challenge.  It brings up all my feelings of less than.  And in doing so, it forces me to quell my ego and face the demons.  This is the exhilerating part of finishing a race.  I look the dragon in the face and keep moving.  If I finish, I win. 

Also, I wasn't properly prepared.  I rushed around in the morning without a clear head.  I must prepare it all the night before.  This last minute organising is interfering with my goals. 

Next, I'd forgotten how to race.  I'd forgotten what it felt like and that it was hard.  I'd forgotten that it is always painful.  Nepean is going to be a hard race.  I was thinking that because I was training, I had it in the bag.  No problem.  Walk in the park.  I have such a short memory!

Finally, my confidence is low because of my running injury.  Confidence is a powerful force.  I am only learning how much my own thinking can affect my actions.  I was demoralized because I was coming last.  It turns out I was ahead of David the whole time.  It didn't actually matter in the slightest what place I was coming.  What mattered was what I thought.  Afterwards, someone told me to run my own race.  This is great advice.