This past weekend was a GLORIOUS three day holiday weekend. The first downtime (belonging solely to me, as opposed to an event) that I’d had in a long time. Three days of me, me ME ME MEEEEEEEEE! I slept, did laundry, wrote thank you letters for Christmas gifts, caught up on my “stories,” (if you need good TV recommendations lemme know, I got‘cho), finished my book for book club in a couple of weeks and FINALLY finished updating the “I’m awesum” wall in my house.
My increased volume of racing over the last couple of years, has increased my need for wall space to display the “I’m awesum” gallery. Why such a fuss over bibs and medals? I’ve never been one to buy the medal displays that have a few pegs that you hang your medals or race bibs on. You know the ones where you are basically covering up one with another, like a notepad of sorts. Nope, EVERY bib, every medal has a story. Some full of tears, some of joy, some of “OMG, did I just do that?!?!” Thus every bib, every medal has its place on the wall. I spent most of Sunday and Monday evenings cutting and stapling and gluing and levelling and tracing and every moment I worked building the wall, every bib I touched and medal I stapled, I remembered each race. What it took to get there, what happened during the race and what I walked away with. Last night, I ran out of materials, there are still bibs waiting to be hung, but they’ll make it on the wall in time.
Late last night as I hung the final row of medals on the wall and stood back to look at the gallery of stories born of thousands of miles of laughter, sweat, blood, hills, straightaways, friendships, windy days, snotty noses, tears, several trips to the chiropractor, emergency room visits, lots and lots of $$ in triathlon gear/equipment and race fees and a mindset that has moved from “I can’t” to “Why the hell not?” I smiled. I couldn’t help it. I’ve come this far…from a half-marathoner to a half-ironman, from someone who couldn’t swim one length of the pool, let alone to the first buoy in the lake, to taking 6 minutes off my 1.2 mile swim last summer. I’ve come this far and everything on that wall bears unshakeable witness to my perseverance. Days turn into weeks, turn into months, turn into years. Races come, go. My stats improve, deteriorate, improve, level out, improve…I adventure on, for I’ve come this far, and I have so many miles left to go.