Limited by our own limits

I was playing solitaire this morning waiting for my daughter at the dentist. I almost started laughing at myself because out of 10 games, I only beat the computer on 1 of them. But I just kept playing. I knew there was no danger if I didn’t win – the Queen of hearts was not going to jump out of my computer screen and shout “Off with her head!” followed by a hundred spear wielding playing cards chasing after me. But what do we do when we’re faced with something that could have a potentially dangerous outcome?

I recently read the book Jonathon Livingston Seagull. The main idea is that really, the only limitations in our lives are the ones we place on ourselves. If a seagull believes it can do speedy, break-neck dives and gracefully come out of it, it can after a lot of practice and trial and error. Even though I read that a little over a week ago, it didn’t really hit me until this morning. If I believe I can finish an Ironman, I can.

Ever since the Ogden marathon, something switched off in me. I haven’t known how to fix it. I only know I’ve been incredibly down on myself about everything. After the marathon, I had no desire to run, and then I had no desire to bike or swim either. Then I fell apart during the swim at the Half Ironman in Boise and didn’t finish. That was a huge blow to me mentally. After that, I had a really hard time getting back into open water. This weekend I did my first Olympic triathlon and during the first lap of the swim, I barely put my face in the water because I kept panicking and thinking I couldn’t do it. It was miserable and I almost quit in the first 300 meters.

Then as Kermit describes it, I had a break through before starting my second lap. Something clicked and I just put my face in the water and swam. Maybe the key was that I stopped thinking about failing and just did it. My second lap was about 6-8 minutes faster than my first. It felt good to finish it, but it didn’t get me the confidence boost I had hoped for. Instead, I found myself focusing on how I was last coming out of the swim for the Olympic distance, last coming into T2 because of a flat tire, and finishing near the end of the race. Then I was so tired and down on myself, I did horribly on the 50 mile bike we did for the MS 150 the next day.

Kermit kept telling me it was all in my head and while I knew that was part of it, I just wasn’t listening. Then I realized this morning how I was so defeated all weekend. But in thinking about it, I further realized I’ve been feeling defeated ever since the marathon.

Part of it is that I haven’t made the time to train properly. Part of it is that I’m having a hard time juggling everything in my life and not letting things overwhelm me. It doesn’t help that I’ve been focusing on all the bad things rather than celebrating the little accomplishments. Sure the marathon was hard and I was cold and wet, but I didn’t give up and finished. Sure I finished near the end at this weekend’s tri, but I didn’t stop and I finished it. That was a huge breakthrough to not let my fears get the better of me during the swim. I wanted to quit so bad and I was terrified – not just of drowning, but that I couldn’t do it - failure. But some miracle happened in my head, and I kept going.

When I was speaking to a friend about my recent race experiences they said “stop having limits”. That reminded me of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. The Seagull had no concept of limits on himself. He believes he can do amazing things – and he just keeps trying until he does it. He believes, with child-like faith that I’ve lost along the way, that he is capable of anything.

There are so many pieces to this idea. I picture myself in a box – a box I made for myself based on failures and inaccurate judgments of myself. The box is obsidian colored glass with funny mirrors all around the outside of the box. I’ve been looking at myself with a dark, negative, distorted view. I only see my perceived limits – failures, weakness, mostly things I don’t like about myself. And after so many years of focusing on that, that’s all I can see. It’s hard to believe in myself and that I can accomplish super hard things and change the things I don’t like.

The second part of this is that it’s a glass box. On the one hand, if I just worked hard enough, I could shatter the glass. I could be done with the limitations I’ve set on myself and then conquer the world (or least fly to the moon like Superman – my ultimate dream). But I’m afraid. Afraid of getting cut by all the slivers of glass. I’m afraid that once I break free, I’ll see I wasn’t distorting the truth and I really can’t do the hard things I’ve set out to do. I know achieving great things doesn’t come without struggles, getting hurt, and having to start over a few times. But I’m still afraid that after all that – the struggle, hope, pain and tears – that after all that, I’ll still fail.

Perhaps because that’s how I felt, and still feel, about my marriage. I went through so much over the years to make things work. I wasn’t perfect, and there are things I do much better now than when I was married. But I really felt like I gave it my all – but for what? Failure. At least that’s how I see it. It was hard, and I hurt many times, I still hurt sometimes. I got cut, I was broken, but I kept having hope and faith, and still failed. So maybe the issue goes back much further and deeper than just 26.2 miles in the cold rain.

So now the question is, what do I do about it? How do I take a leap of faith, break through the glass, stop placing limits on myself, and in Kermit’s words, “just do”? Via the Strengths Finder 2.0 book, I know my biggest strength is problem solving. I thrive most and nothing satisfies me more than having a problem, researching, finding a solution and then doing it – and fixing it. So this is the most decadent of all chocolate desserts for me.

I understand the why. I know what the results will be if I can demolish the glass box – a great race in Cozumel in December, and the pure joy of knowing I overcame something I’ve been struggling with for a while – a lack of mental strength. And I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that I have no limits. Kermit inspires me with how much he has accomplished with his races after everything he’s been through and the physical limitations his body has. He just keeps going and doesn’t give up. So how do I get to that point? And even more so, how do I have a positive attitude about it?

This will be one tough cookie to crack (hopefully its chocolate chip since that’s my favorite). But I know this is the key to finishing a full Ironman for me. If you’ve had experiences with this, and learned something about it, please share! I’m in the research phase and would love to hear your experiences.