WatchingTedLasso

Just yesterday, I finished yet another endurance event. 201.65 miles. It took me over twelve and a half hours to accomplish that mark. And while I could waste our time in wishing I were faster, or less sore, or anything else that is of zero consequence, I want to spend some time revisiting a song. Or more precisely, a song within the final ride of that epic over twelve hour journey.

Before we get to the end of the journey, we must begin where I began. In all honesty, I had absolutely no intention of completing 200 miles prior to the weekend. And I’m not even sure now, in hindsight, what made me want to. I’d completed a 200 mile event once before and said then, “never again”. What’s that phrase about never saying never? Perhaps I should pay better attention to it.

Day 1 saw me end with just over 100 miles and a mostly secret goal of going for 200. I knew from experience that in order to repeat the process the next day it would demand a hell of a lot from both my body and my mind. But I had greatly underestimated just how much on both counts.

Fast very far forward and I’m under twenty miles to go, but still what seemed a long distance to finish. My pace had dropped from nearly 17 mph to a solid 14 mph; deterred by ever-tightening legs. At this point, my legs started to get little cramps running through them – hamstrings, mostly, but quads and hip flexors as well – all the usual suspects.

I started questioning myself. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Can I do this? Will I be able to get to my goal without actually injuring myself? Everything hurt. I was exhausted. I just wanted to be done.

And holy hell, haven’t we all been at the same place at some time or another? How do you push through? Do you take a breath and collect yourself? Do you find motivation to push just a little harder through a favorite song? Do you lean on the kindness of those closest to you? Do you get angry at the whateveritis standing in your way and decide you’re going the charge through it? Here’s something I’ve learned the hard way. That whateveritis that’s standing in our way is usually ourselves.

I did all of the above in some measure and made it to my final two rides. The combination of the time for these rides I knew would take me over the finish line. I would take the helping hand on my back through the penultimate ride, but something in me needed to face the last one alone.

The last one was the cool down ride that I’ve written about previously – the one with the song “Ordinary World” in it. The ride and the song becoming almost a talisman for vulnerability, inner strength and resiliency. What’s interesting is that I don’t remember crying this particular time during the song. I teared up prior to the ride out of sheer exhaustion and I let it all go for a minute once the ride was over and I knew that I had made my goal. But I still wanted to face it alone.

Why was that so important to me? I had made the decision to face it on my own almost in a knee-jerk fashion just as soon as I had settled on that ride being my last. Was it tribute to Charlie that I wanted to have privately? I don’t think so at all. More of a tribute to myself. I was completing yet another really difficult thing in my life. And there is just something prideful about completing it all on your own. Perhaps I wanted to complete it on my own because I knew I didn’t have to be alone in it. That there was support all along the way should I need it. Not wholly unlike a child taking their first few steps of freedom with hands hovering just within reach – a taste of independence. Independence is sweet. It is all the more sweeter when you can claim it while knowing you have backup waiting in the wings.

There’s a lyric in the song that resonates with me most that I have quoted before and will do again. “But I won’t cry for yesterday, there’s an ordinary world somehow I have to find.” Sometimes I still do cry. Not for yesterday. But perhaps for the extraordinary ordinary world that I am coming to find.