I am not one who would ever get a tattoo. Or at least I thought this was the case until the day my dear friend Paul said, "How cool would it be to have an Ironman tattoo on your calf?"
Well, I wouldn't get one on my calf, but I might get one on my foot.
What? Did this thought really cross my mind?
In order to get this tattoo, I would have to do actually do an Ironman, and feel comfortable enough with the result to announce it to the world by permanently 'engraving' the fact I had done the race in my skin.
Paul: "We should do an Ironman."
Me: "Are you crazy?"
A few weeks later, as my friends and I continued to train for various triathlon events including Escape from Alcatraz, Escape from the Rock and Vineman 70.3, I had an epiphany on a particularly beautiful San Francisco day while running the Escape from Alcatraz run course. Could I run this three times? Yes, I could.
A few days later I saw Paul and his lovely wife Dian, who is also a dear friend. Paul mentioned Ironman again. My reply, "I am in."
Shortly thereafter I emailed my parents. Actually announcing that I am doing an event is how I commit to it. Once announced, there is no way I will not complete it. My father responded that doing an Ironman made about as much sense as "shooting clay pigeons flying through the air." I love my dad.
My mother didn't respond. Or at least I didn't think she had, until two days later when my sister forwarded me an email. My mother had forwarded my email announcing that I was going to do an Ironman to the rest of the family with the note that clearly they needed to stage an intervention. I laughed. I love my mom.
Whatever happens over the next year... I blame Paul.
1 comment:
I think you are all amazing and I celebrate your energy, your will and the gumption it takes to even consider such a journey! Jen, I love the blog and I suspect in later years you will be very pleased you put forth the effort to have a document of your IM year.
Love,
Mom
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