I apologize in advance for the randomness and fragmented nature of this post, but since registering for Ironman AZ back in November, that is exactly what has been happening in my mind. All day, every day, a continuation of fragmented thoughts ranging from “OMG I’m so PUMPED. Cecily Fuller YOU ARE (ALMOST) AN IRONMAN!” to “OMG I want to cry, where do I go next?”
The thought of Ironman is always there. That M-Dot symbol is there when you wake up in the morning; you chase it during each training session; it’s the seasoning on your breakfast, lunch and dinner; and it’s that bitter flavor you taste with each sip of an IPA. Friends of mine who have completed an Ironman of their own warned me that once you take the plunge and officially register, it’s all you will think about for the following year. The reality of this hits me as I sit here with a pile of anatomy flashcards to study and it’s all I can do not to break into the stack of Ironman/tri training books I just borrowed from a friend. The inner turmoil continues. So, instead, I will do neither and I will sit here and pour my feelings into my Ironman blog. I call this a happy medium.