How I Am Conquering My Ironman Fears–By Courtney Waid
Fear is arguably one of the biggest reasons for failing to accomplish a dream, goal, or task. So we do not fall victim, it is important we realize that our fears are not walls preventing us from accomplishing difficult goals or dreams in our lives, they are merely hurdles. Courage then is not pursing dreams or goals with the absence of fear, it is simply the conquering of it.
Fear is real, and we all face it to some extent. Members of Team Endure to Cure are no different. We have gathered many stories from our team members who often told us they were fearful they would not be capable of achieving their desired goal. Whether that goal was walking a mile, running a marathon, doing a triathlon, climbing a mountain, or simply losing weight to achieve better health, they questioned if it was within their realm of possibility. Nearly all of them discovered that all it took was the courage to make the commitment, take action now, improve every day, and before they knew it, the walls of their comfort zone had expanded further than they ever thought possible upon joining.
These team members come from all backgrounds. Take Courtney Waid, for example. She has graduated from the prestigious United States Military Academy at West Point and has served her country for a year in Iraq. She came to us with very little athletic background and was extremely nervous about being able to complete her first triathlon. Well, in short, as she found courage and took action toward her goals, her comfort zone steadily expanded; she even earned our Team Member of the Year award in 2011 from her inspiring efforts! She is now trying something bigger and once again, she became fearful of the journey ahead. She asked us if she could share with our fellow readers how she is conquering fear on this new journey. Of course!
Enter Courtney:
I joined Endure to Cure with the ultimate goal of running an Ironman triathlon. Before that, I had never run longer than a sprint distance, never ridden my bike more than 15 miles at a time, or run one marathon. And now it’s almost race day. It’s actually almost here. My gear is laid out on the bed, organized and picked over, to ensure nothing is forgotten. I’ve completed every distance up to a half Ironman, ridden my bike 100 miles on more than one occasion, ran two more marathons, and done painfully boring 2.5 mile swims in a 50m pool. But the doubt and panic are creeping in. Did I do enough? Is my nutrition plan sound? Can I really exercise for 15+ hours???? I can barely stay awake for 15+ hours! I didn’t stick to my training plan like I wanted to, I didn’t practice my nutrition enough, God help me if I get a flat tire! Everybody is going to be more ready and more trained and more serious than me. I’ve tossed and turned for days plagued with self-defeating thoughts. I can’t do it. What ever made me think I could something so terrible???!! Honestly, this is how I feel. Those of you reading this thinking about joining the team and saying to yourself “I could never do something like that” – take comfort… I guess… in knowing that that is exactly how I feel too, and I’m 72 hours away from actually doing it!
And then this: a fellow teammate posts a link to a blog about a little boy named Ty Campbell. He was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of brain cancer right around the time I joined E2C. He lost his fight just this week, days before my journey is to reach its end. He just passed his 5th birthday. In the blog, his mother chronicles his fight, his family’s fight, the raw emotions of watching her baby boy struggle to survive, every second of watching him die. It’s a terribly painful read. I locked myself in the bathroom so I could bawl without my husband and wonderful, beautiful, amazing, healthy children seeing me. And then suddenly, on this beautiful fall day, when I’m trapped in my own head and consumed with my own nerves, I’m shocked back into the reality of why I’m doing this in the first place. I feel silly, childish, for being so worried about nothing but a game when this family is making arrangements to bury their son. My mental and physical struggles on Saturday are not fit to be on the same earth with what these people are going through. While I have suffered through training for the last two years, lamented over aches and pains and long rides, this little boy has been undergoing painful cancer treatments all while keeping a smile on his face. We should all be humbled by such strength.
Tomorrow, I am going to dedicate my race to this boy. When I get tired and I want to quit, I am going to think of him. Because he couldn’t quit, he couldn’t opt out, he couldn’t “DNF” (Did Not Finish) in his struggle. The fight came to him and he fought it bravely. The least I could do is try to do the same. Two years of hard work and more support from my friends and family than I ever dreamed was all for this reason, all to help other kids like Ty and their families. Last year we raised funds to help fund a survivorship study so that children who win their battles can lead more limitation-free lives. We are currently raising funds for our Small Miracles Program to help improve the quality of life for children like Ty during their treatment. I am so lucky to be able to help in some small way, to not just sit on the sidelines while children and their families go through this experience. I am so lucky that my biggest worry in the world is something as small as running an Ironman triathlon… For those of you who read this, I hope you are as lucky as me, and I hope you will be inspired to join us in our fight to end this horrible thing called pediatric cancer.