“How did you do, what was your finish time?”
“Did you PR?”
“Why didn’t you finish faster?”
“Fourteen hours? Not bad”
These are the questions people have been asking me after my second Ironman finish. I’ve been trying very hard to tip-toe around the questions and comments, yet I am still made to feel bad that I finished five minutes slower than I did in 2013. Five minutes.
Know what five minutes means to me? Nothing really. I could understand if I came in an hour slower, then ask WHAT HAPPENED?
For the most part, I don’t think people intentionally want me to feel bad, but having to explain each time “No I did not PR, I finished 5 minutes slower, I don’t know why it took me longer, I waited at a porta potty for 5 minutes, it was a beautiful day, I enjoyed the course, blah blah blah” It forces me to think about where I could have pushed harder in the day to get to the finish six minutes faster.
But that’s dumb. Absolutely ridiculous and dumb. I covered 140.6 miles with my limbs. Whether it takes 14 hours or 15 hours, I’m a two time Ironman finisher. That alone is something special to me. I put in the work, I came, I covered the distance, I got my medal…and my tattoo.
I’m forever a finisher, the proof is on my calf. Next person who asks why I didn’t PR gets a kick in the face with that leg.