My Run Around: What a race looks like from the inside

If you ask me what my race looks like while I’m out there swimming, biking and running it’s best summed up with this picture.

One of my race good luck charms this year is letting my 5 year old daughter paint my nails, she doesn't hold back and no color is off limits.

Emmie's latest race day creation for me

I’ve been a spectator at many racing events; marathons, half marathons, Ironman and from the spectating view I experience many emotions as I visualize myself in the competitors’ shoes. The look of determination, pain and exhaustion, I can relate to those looks because I’ve been there. Thinking back I feel that it looks worse than it is. As I’ve stood there and cheered for these great athletes my eyes deceive me, I interpret what I see on their faces and in their body language and think that they are two steps from keeling over and quitting, but my eyes are wrong because I’m not able to see what matters most. I can’t see their internal language, I can’t hear them telling themselves that they are strong enough to make it to the next water station, run that next block or push it to the finish line. I’m deceived by what I think I’d look like at that moment. Truth is, I don’t know what I look like one step before falling to the ground because my body won’t proceed, I’ve never seen me pushing through what on-lookers call pain. I’m not competing while snapping selfies to document my step by step journey that is a race. Race pictures can document a moment in time but they don’t document what is going on in the moment internally for that athlete. What we don’t see is feeling and emotion. We may see tears as someone crosses the finish line or smiles tighter than we ever thought possible but the reason behind those tears and behind that smile are truly only recognized by that athlete finishing. Throughout the day that athlete referred back to small snapshots in their head each time a negative thought crept in. Any time they thought the day was ending before the finish line they referenced and pulled up an emotion that started in the pit of their stomach, something so personal and real that it gave them the reminder of why they were out there. A race is nothing more than finding ways to recall that emotion over and over and over again. It’s finding the reason to continue and removing the excuses to stop. A race is a celebration of those emotions and a flip book of those internal snapshots and crossing the line is a volcanic explosion of all those mental pictures all at once. I’ve seen what that looks like and I’ve felt what that feels like but I can’t say that any time I’ve witnessed someone cross the finish line that my description of what I see can do justice to what is happening in their mind, body and heart.

As I prepare for my half ironman this Sunday I’d like to share a handful of pictures and moments that will be carrying me as I swim, bike and run for 70.3 miles on my way to a goal time of under 5 hours. I don’t expect my pictures to elicit the same emotion in you as it will in me but I’d like to provide perspective on what carries me to the finish line.