Being where I am
By Alison Colavecchia
6.19.01 (www.slowtwitch.com)

I am learning through my involvement in triathlon to accept myself where I am at the moment. This has not been easy. I have always looked ahead to where I was supposed to be, to where I thought I should be. This is true in my professional, sporting and personal lives.

It is during the run portion of my triathlons that I am most keenly reminded of this "being where I am" mental dragon. My racing this year has shown me that I am beginning to do battle more constructively.

While running I have longed to be one of those people on their way back from the turn-around, making their way home to the finish line. I have yearned to be where they were, wanted so much to have their speed, their endurance, their guts and determination. I have been distracted by where I felt I should be and have fallen prey to thoughts that it just doesn't matter whether they have been racing for 10 years, have more time for training or come from a running background…it matters only that they are where I want to be—where I think I should be. As a result, I have found myself feeling that where I am in the race is less than where they are and, by extension, that somehow I am less an athlete than they are. Discouragement inevitably follows and the run begins to loom larger…

This year, as I add a few more race days to my resume, I see that this thinking has been neither helpful nor fair. It devalues where I am at the moment and lures me into thinking that my effort, speed and endurance are not good enough. S-l-o-w-l-y I am realizing that where I am at any given moment in a race takes all of me, and that I am giving whatever I have for the day. I never hold back. Whatever speed I have for the day is reflected in my speed. Whatever endurance I have is reflected in my ability to persevere. Most importantly, my courage for the day is reflected simply in my willingness to even be there. I am beginning to accept that my place in the race doesn’t mean I am putting in any less of an effort than those able to go faster than I nor does my lack of speed make me any less of an athlete.

While heading out on the run at this weekend’s race in Muskoka, I found myself looking over at the other side of the road, watching all those other runners (and there were hundreds of them) heading for home ahead of me. I could feel the familiarity of that old dragon creeping in to my thinking: Look at how strong those folks on the other side look; maybe I should walk; gee, I wish I were over there. But as I hit the 10K mark I knew I would finish if I could just stay steady and not waver from my own game plan. So at that moment I decided to race differently. I went inside. I thought of my children and their enthusiasm (if you were high-fived on the final hill that was them!) and pride in my racing. I thought about my husband's contributions to my being there on Father's Day and I thought a lot about how hard I had worked just to get here. Like every other triathlete in the race, I too deserved to be there and was giving everything I had to finish.

At the 13K mark, despite feeling tired and eager to be done, I also knew that what I had left in me was more than enough to make it in and that in all likelihood I would do so according to the pre-race plan. I had hoped to complete the 2K swim, 55K ride and 15 K run in about four hours.

While the last 5K didn't fly by, the finish was markedly different from those I have experienced in preceding years. I recognized that where I was in the race was where I needed to be, that I had a job to do and had finally learned to let my body and mind work together to get it done. I felt proud to be where I was and who I was in the race—still a back of the packer but stronger in just about every way. I smiled, crossing the finish line at 3:57.

So if the last two races have served as my final exams, then I have done my homework, learned and passed. Next up is the half-Ironman—my endurance apprenticeship.

Still tri'n