91 Days to Ultraman Mexico: Fears Hiding Fears.

Back around again.

Half an hour outside Lake Placid. The two lane road winds through young trees, their tops casting dappled shade across the pavement. Cars are parked along the shoulder at trailheads and pull offs. Last time I came here, this road was lit only by our headlights. I was visibly nervous approaching the hotel. Now, that nervousness has receded to the subconscious. In my waking hours, I feel calm and ready for the challenge ahead. Maybe even too relaxed. I’ve grown familiar with the rigor of an Ironman after two finishes.

Underneath that calm a quiet fear waits for me to fall asleep. The last two nights have been filled with stressful visions of logistical failures: flat tires, jellyfish infested waters, broken chains, late starts, and lost directions. Not once have these dreams brought up the physical pain of the race itself. My fear is tied to preparation. I fear a DNS far more than a DNF.

Perhaps the most impactful race of my life ended in a DNF. I had never felt so good as I did that evening crossing the 50 mile finish line after the time cutoff. Failing to reach the starting line due to some avoidable mistake feels worse than any physical challenge the race itself could bring. Last year heading to my first Ironman on the winding roads through the night, I held no logistical fears. I didn’t want to start! I hoped for an external act of mercy to free me from the burden of the race. From the responsibility. Back then, my greatest fear was failing to finish, bringing people all the way to upstate New York only to disappoint them.

Looking back I understand that fear was a cover for a deeper fear. A fear that the terrible version of me I imagine lives in others’ minds would be confirmed. That I am a failure. This belief feels closer to life and death than most fears. Deep down, I’ve carried a sheltered conviction that I am a failure, that everyone else knows it, has known it, and is silently letting me flounder until the truth finally sinks in. This belief tells me to give up on my dreams and ambitions, to “grow up” and get a real job, to accept society’s metrics of worth and paths to success.

I have always rejected those ideals in action, yet internally I’ve wrestled with them. I’ve resented authority figures and the societal expectation to be a certain way. I’ve let internal feelings of inadequacy compromise my rejection of these values, leading me to chase success I don’t truly believe in while secretly building a self sufficient identity outside of society. In trying to prove myself “good enough” to then abandon that proof, I have scattered my energy dividing attention, action, and presence between true desires and imagined prerequisites.

I still struggle with this battle, but I’m content with the process. I am learning to lower my weapons and invite all aspects of myself to the table. There is nothing to prove and no one to prove it to. Someday, this will move from an idea I hold to a reality I live.

In the meantime, I breathe in the fresh air, feel the sun on my skin, look at the sky, and lace up my shoes. I am here now.