"It's bad timing, but a lot of kids become teenagers just as their parents are hitting their mid-life crisis. So everybody's miserable and confused and seeking that new sense of identity." ~Laurie Halse Anderson
I always told my son that I would plan my mid-life crisis. He told me it was impossible. So I set out to prove him wrong.
I haven't blogged in 9 months, and that's because I've been off fulfilling my mission. Two years ago Ivan turned 18, graduated high school, started college, moved out, moved back, got a great job, and started debating about his college status. At that time I began introducing myself as a "retired mom" to cut to the chase: My kid is grown. The new title should give you some inkling about all the other demographics in my life.
Then, after completing three smaller triathlons in one summer, I decided to go for the big enchilada. I signed up for a full Ironman--2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run. I started training in October for a competition of June 2015.
This story doesn't have a happy ending. After a rough swim and a hard bike in 106 degree temperatures, I folded at mile 94 of the bike. The heat just got to me, and later I found that my left pedal had ceased to turn over most likely leading to a lot of trouble turning over the crank. It sucked. I got all emotional and didn't talk to people if I didn't have to for about a week. In the end, I resolved to go back in 2016 and tear down that course like there was no tomorrow no matter the conditions.
There is no need to delve too far into the moral of this story. I came out stronger despite my disappointments. Training for this race changed me. And if that was the point to midlife crisis then bring it. Bring it every single day of my life. I'll be sure to schedule time on my calendar.