Yes, COMPLETED! Finished. As in....I DID IT!
I supposed this recap has been hard for me to put into words, because completing the Triathlon has meant more to me than probably anything I've ever done in my entire life.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done and also the most meaningful.
The months leading up to the tri were full of emotion and mishaps--a stolen bike, a wetsuit purchase gone wrong, a painful knee injury made worse by Fibro--but on and on, I endured. The triathlon became everthing to me. My focus. My goal. My soul.
Aside from beating Fibromyalgia and taking control of my physical body again, it also represented the taking back of my emotional health, as well. A devastating breakup in March left me heartbroken. Around the same time, my father's diagnosis of possible dementia, possible pre-Parkinsons, possible they-don't-know-what-yet-but-definite-mental-decline destroyed any strength I had left.
And to top it off, I hated my day job with a passion, and had started to question my commitment to theatre and performing. All of a sudden I had no purpose, I had no love, no support, a job I hated, a parent who might as well be disappearing or dying, the knowledge that my parents were struggling emotionally and financially, and a crumbling sense of self and strength. And the fibro symptoms wreaked havoc on my poor body. I was the sickest I'd been in so very long. Every day I woke up broken, beaten, bruised by life--and because of this beating, I was even more broken by fibromyalgia. Fatigue lived within every cell I possessed, nerve pain rattled my body, my brain was a cloud of fog that at its very best masked the severe depression I was living with, and at its worst, was so thick it helped me to disconnect from what I was living through. I was on the floor consumed with such overwhelming grief at all hours.
And then I thought, NO MORE.
I suppose I had thought of the Triathlon this past winter and had decided that I would train for it with my boyfriend at the time. We would train together, we would do the Tri together. And then after the breakup, I dismissed it. Who would I train with now.
MYSELF.
That's who.
I, all of a sudden, started running the idea past a few close friends.
"I don't know....are you sure?"
"Don't you want to start with a shorter distance?"
"Can your body handle that?"
"You're crazy."
These were some responses I received. And each of these responses only fueled my fire. I knew my friends meant well, but deep down I thought, "How dare they!" Why can't they just support me. Why can't they embue me with love and hugs and everything I need and all the support in the world. It was the same from my family. When I told them I had signed up for the Triathlon and that I was going to announce it to my friends on Fibromyalgia Awareness Day, I was met with "Can you even swim?" And the far worse and egregious, "Are you sure you even have Fibromyalgia?" I was at lunch in DC with my family over Mother's Day Weekend. And I got up from the table.
And I left.
I walked out on my family. And I left the restaurant. And I ignored their phone calls. And I seethed and breathed and walked the streets of DC until I finally picked up a call and came back to the restaurant because my Dad was getting upset and worried about where I was.
My own family questioned whether or not I had Fibromyalgia. My own family didn't understand what I have been living with day in and day out for years. They did not understand the severity of my fatigue, nor did they understand the shooting pain that makes me shout at times. They did not understand my own diminished mental clarity when the symptoms flare. They did not understand how most mornings I woke up feeling as though I had never slept at all. And I got angry.
I got so very angry.
And then I realized, how can they know what I live with when I don't talk about it?
I've been such a silent sufferer, hiding behind this illness because I don't want it to define me, I don't want people to pity me, I don't want them to think I'm any different. But I am. To a certain degree, Fibromyalgia does define what I can do and how I feel, and how can they know if I don't tell them?
That's when I decided not to let Fibro define me any longer.
That's when I decided to start this blog and to start spreading awareness. One of my main concerns was that people who didn't know much about Fibro would assume that anyone could just work out and do a triathlon--- I didn't want to mislead the ignorant. Because training for the triathlon was such a delicate balance of listening to my body that the slightest wrong move could leave me paralyzed with fatigue. I am reminded of the beginning, when I triggered a two-week flare by doing too much too soon. I am reminded of the tears on my floor as I could not even lift my body up, so overcome with pain and exhaustion.
That was 6 months ago, and this is now. And now, I am an International Distance Triathlete.
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