The Fourth Buoy

In May, I finished a half-ironman triathlon. Here's part of what I wrote about my experience:

As we went out, around the first buoy, and down the straight away, I was relishing the feel of the water as it flowed over my face and arms. We approached a tall marker, and I thought, "Man! I am doing so good! That's already the turn to go back in!" Unfortunately, I then saw that people were continuing on straight. Laughing at my not-so-modest mindset, I settled in and got into a comfortable rhythm. I noticed some swim caps of the wave after mine starting to pass me, but I knew I wasn't the fastest swimmer, so this didn't really bother me. I expected to be passed. We approached the next tall marker and I thought, "Sweet! Here we are at the turn. That didn't really seem too long, and I still feel fresh and energized! I'm doing great!" And then I saw that people were continuing on straight. Crap. So this wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Well, I guess it is a half-ironman, after all, so it shouldn't really be a breeze. I stopped thinking about how fast I was or wasn't going and started concentrating on staying in a straight line, breathing, and swimming with my hips (thanks, Coach Annika!). I thought about all the people and moments who had helped me get to this point, from our swim coach and our 5:30 a.m. winter practices in the outdoor, heated pool at the JCC to my friends, family, and husband who had supported me and encouraged me and who all believed in me. I was overcome with elation. I remember thinking to myself, "I'm doing it. I'm in the middle of doing it--the thing that I've (we've all) been working toward and looking to for the last six months." How freaking awesome.

I've noticed a change in my mindset regarding TTC recently. I'm no longer over eager, like a puppy bouncing with exuberance at the sight of a leash. I'm no longer painfully mourning my lack of success each month. My heart isn't keenly aching at the sight of others with their cute baby bumps, with their designer baby carriers, with their children. The more I thought about it, about this change in mindset, this change in approach, the more I realized I had experienced this before.

In the race, I went out confident, eager, probably a little overzealous, and with unrealistic expectations. And as the race progressed, as I passed each buoy, expecting it to be the one, the buoy that marks the end of my outbound progress, the buoy where I can turn back and head home, as I passed each one and realized it wasn't the one, that I still had farther to go, I settled in a little more. I lost my overzealousness, my unrealistic expectations. I calmed down, turned my focus inward, and kept going.

That's where I am now. I am heading for the fourth buoy. I'm no longer overzealous. I don't look at baby stuff online. I don't plan the nursery. I don't look up estimated due dates. We don't even talk about baby names much anymore. I have realized that this is not a sprint race. For me, at least, it's a distance race. I can't waste time and energy thinking about why or how others got to have a shorter distance. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that this is my course, and I have to find a way to get through it. I don't know how far away the fourth buoy is. I don't know when I'll be able to finally make that last turn and head for home. All I can do is keep breathing, keep stroking, keep calm. Getting worked up only makes you slower, only saps the energy that you'll need later on.

It's time to settle in.

And luckily, I've done that before.