on December
I've never finished an ironman feeling quite so peaceful. It's different than feeling done kaput finished, I'm not ready to wash my hands of this distance no matter how I felt at mile 60 of the bike. But, like everyone posts haughtily on instagram all the time , I do think that I have finally learned how to honestly be in love with the process. With where I am, just me, not comparing myself to anyone else around me and where they are and how fast they got there and what their story looks like and how mine doesn't measure up. My day went how I wanted it to go, start to finish. That's what I care about, not about the time, or the heat, or the chafing, or the gut bomb, or the blisters or whatever else I could use to bring it down. And with that comes peace. Maybe I'm growing up. The week after ironman, I did almost nothing. I had this idea that I would have so much extra time in my life since I wasn't training, but instead my body ate up all those