463 Ironman Clothman
Ever try to do an activity for 13 straight hours?
Work? Either the machinery or I will eventually need gas. Eating? Nibbling on peas that long would blimp me out like a sumo wrestler. Sleeping? Ha! Age has reduced my bladder capacity to that of a shot glass which awakens me at night with the regularity of an egg timer. Watching TV? That much NASCAR would even make me as crazy.
Yet, this September I will complete a baker’s dozen hours of one activity.
If you’ve followed my columns for long you know that about six years ago my friend The Chafemaster convinced me to set a goal of completing an Ironman Triathlon on the year I turn 50. Guess what, Clothman turns the big 50 this year.
An Ironman Triathlon is an event in which participants swim 2.5 miles, bicycle 112 miles, then run a 26.2 mile marathon. The elites will cover that distance in about 9 hours. The Chafemaster who has completed three Ironman events will do it in about 11 hours. However, Clothman will require at least 13 hours of continuous swimming, biking and running to finish. Oh boy.
I’m a dude who ran my first ever race in my 40’s. (I never competed in high school sports because I was needed at our family owned saw mill.) I vividly remember my first training run. It lasted 10 minutes before I pulled up wheezing like a my head was wrapped in duct tape.
But with The Chafemaster’s encouragement I’ve stayed the course and moved toward my goal over the years. I’ve now completed lots of events including three Half-Ironman races and two marathons.
Still an Ironman is daunting. After finishing a marathon last fall, instead of feeling great joy and a sense of accomplishment, all I could think was: “Holy Nike Clothman, if you’re this tired now, how in the world are you going to do an Ironman next year? Are you an idiot?”
But you know what? I AM going to do that Ironman Triathlon this year. I AM going to finish that race, no matter how long it takes or how much it hurts. You know why? Because in pursuing this Ironman I’ve learned that discomfort doesn’t have to lead to defeat.
Sometimes my life is reduced to nothing more than getting my exhausted body up that steep hill without giving in to the pain and walking. Guts. Fighting. Groaning. Focus. Reaching for a goal.
On those difficult training days God has shown me that I can do things I never thought possible but only when I allow the pain to burn off the frivolous entanglements and weaknesses that are created by too much comfort. That has translated into a life with less greed, gluttony, selfishness, soft-mindedness and materialism because comfort isn’t the goal – the goal is the goal.
The Apostle Paul knew this. The Chafemaster knows this. That’s why he always keeps before him Paul’s words, “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).
What goal is comfort robbing you of?
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