I can only compare my husbands relationship with Ironman to my relationship with pregnancy. Unfortunately, my track record for having awful, home-nurses-needed pregnancies are 3/3. So why did I keep having kids? Because pregnancy was just a means to an end for me. I knew that if I just hung in there, I would walk away with the sweetest little chunk of a baby. Pain? Vomiting non-stop? What? Who was puking? The amnesia sets in real fast...then guess who is having another?
Over the past nine months, my husband has trained for Ironman Wisconsin. He has gotten up for 4am swims, fit workouts in between shift work, and has tried to do it while the kids have been at school.
I'm extremely proud of him, and I really can't wrap my head around his dedication to his sport. But I would be a liar if I said this training has been all roses. I know I have wanted to ring his neck at least 642 times. Why? Because we have three kids, and when he says I need to go out on a bike ride....an 80 mile bike ride...well, you would will want to ring his neck too. It's as mentally exhausting for me as it is physically for him. If you are an "Iron-widow", you know exactly what I mean.
It all seems rediculous, until you get in the car, drive 900 miles, and arrive in Madison, WI.
The entire town has embraced this crazy race. And you spend the day walking through crowds of these people all as anxious and excited as your husband, and it starts to make sense.
The energy here, amongst all of these other people is amazing. It's like this restrained euphoria...they're all on the starting block, just waiting for the horn to blow, setting them free. It's the kind of joy you get from holding your baby for the first time. The one who made you sick as a dog and swell like a tick for nine months.
Nine months if hellish training pays off for a week of pre-race/race day accomplishment. Because after race day, the memory of the pain getting to that medal around your neck is all but gone. After all, you're an Ironman now.
My husband has already asked if he can sign up for next years race. I just stared at him....God help me.
"I wish you more than luck" to everyone in the race tomorrow, I'll be cheering for all of you with tears in my eyes. You all have a drive I'm not sure I'll ever understand. But your energy? I'm already feeling that like crazy. I get that.
Above all, happy 40th birthday to my husband, racer #1833. You're spending your special milestone by creating another one-the day you became an Ironman, twice over. Your drive, determination, and guts to withstand my "I'm gonna hurt you" stares during those last workouts are unmatched, and I love you! Enjoy the day, look around and soak in the race, and know that I'll be waiting at the finish line for you. Can't wait. The 75 minute Dogfish head beer is iced down and ready to go.
Go Daddy Go!
Have a great day!
{Jenn}
PS-please forgive any format errors, I'm typing this on my phone...I'll eventually get to a laptop to make it pretty ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment