I've debated writing this for awhile.
Probably because of the fear associated with what I'm about to share.
"What if I sound petty?" "What if I come across as arrogant?" "Does it wreck the experience?"
Writing this doesn't mean I've talked my way out of those thoughts. In fact, quite the opposite. I now feel I'm totally arrested by them, and the only antidote I can find is vocalizing the truth. So here it goes:
Flat. Empty. Nothing.
That's how I felt after completing the World Record.
There was cheering, celebration and congratulations, but I almost felt pathetic for accepting any of it. The nausea in my stomach gave me momentarily relief from the crowds as I stood in a cement bathroom, starring into a cracked mirror and asked, "What was the point?" I should've felt victorious in that moment. Instead, I felt shame.
It's not the first time in my life I've received a response that felt disproportionate to the effort. Most of my visual achievements have been accompanied by a deep sense of disconnection and confusion. Maybe that's also part of the delay: it's taken me all this time to find the proper articulation.
The truth is: it wasn't even hard.
There was no pride in the accomplishment, because there was no struggle to reach it. It felt performative to join in the celebrations when the victory they claimed felt so exaggerated from the truth. I was satisfied, quite happy actually, with how I performed. But that's part of the problem. I was 10KM in, and realized the hardest part of this was going to be boredom. I wouldn't call it easy, nor was it totally enjoyable, but it didn't challenge me. No questioning if I could. No digging deep to make it possible. Part of that of course, were the eyes on me. I didn't have to convince myself to finish it. I was lured to accomplishment by the expectations of all the bystanders - and how dare I fail after announcing my attempt! But it didn't feel like an attempt: more like an errand I had to run on a random Saturday afternoon.
So, I've hidden this accomplishment, with barely two words spoken about it since. Even in conversations with fellow athletes, I never bring it up. And it's not out of shame, but meaninglessness. And I suppose, when something means so little to you, but is greeted with such impressed expressions, you feel misunderstood...isolated. Because man have I craved to receive those reactions from other accomplishments in my life.
The first ride on my bike after being hit.
The completion of a race I knew I had totally bonked.
Day 5 of the Barefoot 500KMs.
The final 10KM of the 300KM Ultra-Triathlon, Conquer The Cortex.
...and hundreds of training sessions I pushed through when I was exhausted, stressed, busy, annoyed, depressed, angry and 90% of the time: cold.
Those are the moments I yearn to be seen as accomplished because they're the moments I'm genuinely proud of. And, while I wish the applause could always be delivered when needed most, I recognize that we're limited to only acknowledging and celebrating the universally identified moments of accomplishment.
- The graduation from school (and not the random Tuesday we stayed up until 4AM studying for a test we were convinced we'd fail).
- The promotion at work (and not the countless hours we invested, meltdowns we faced and doubt we overcame to make it happen).
- The races we win (and not the hours crafting the skill, challenging our capacity and questioning if we're even good enough to try).
The world understands what a World Record means. Even my Grandma messaged, "Wow, you've come far," despite this being far from the hardest thing conquered in my athletics. And I don't fault anyone here. Our view of success is limited to the societal infrastructure it was designed by. Unless told otherwise, I imagine most people would assume a World Record to be my most victorious moment in sport! It gives context and understanding to the outside world of my performance. What's hilarious, is my closest friends, who've watched me undertake the toughest battles (in sport but also in life), were the slowest to offer congratulations. And finally, one of them said, "Honestly...I feel like it wasn't that hard for you..." and what a relief it was to hear that. I could stop pretending. It wasn't hard. And now I could go about finding something that truly was.
The weeks following the World Record were quiet. But I needed that stillness to recalibrate. I committed to myself that I would only chose goals based on their meaning to me - not the world. So, while I'm grateful to officially be a World Record Holder, I'm now chasing something that feels meaningful and important to me.
The Olympics.
And it's not about the title, or how that measures to the world, but rather what the Olympic level represents to me. To achieve that, it'll require a complete renovation of my commitment, focus and consistency: all attributes I want to improve in myself. Why? Those are things I find extremely difficult. And if I want to grow my strength, I need to put my weaknesses under stress. We don't transform in comfort, only challenge. So here's my toast to staying authentic, being reckless with my honesty and getting my actions oriented with my heart. I'm sure I'll slip up several more times as I pursue mastery, but at least now I've figured out what that uncomfortable sensation I've been living with for months actually is.
