I wrote this article for the Spring Edition of the DC Tri Magazine:
I lead a triple life: I am a mother, a full-time career woman and a very amateur triathlete. With few exceptions, my three lives seem to exist exclusive of each other. Yet the most frequently asked question from all three groups is “How do you do it all?” I will never assert that I have the answer to that question. In fact, at times, I believe I am a complete failure. But stories of failure, whether perceived or real, are just as important to tell, because “doing it all” can be hard!
The realization of just how separate each of my lives can be occurred to me after the Reston Century Bike Ride last August. I had a vague idea of doing a long ride that Sunday and set my sights on fifty to sixty miles but I had not yet signed up for the Reston ride. Friday morning I emailed my regular training buddies and suggested we do the Reston Metric Century (65 miles). After a couple more e-mail exchanges the ante was upped and we all agreed to do the full century (100 miles). By the time the ride started I was talked into doing the double metric (125 miles). It was a good group of riders and I was looking forward to a fun but challenging ride.
While it was clear that I was out of my league, I managed to keep up with the group - at least initially. The group with which I was riding were all very good age group triathletes and I am at best, a middle of the packer. In fact, compared to the other very fit and lean women in our group - I felt like an out of shape, overweight imposter. In stark contrast, when I attended a camp presentation by my oldest son and his fellow campers a week earlier, I looked around the room at the other fifteen or so 35 to 45 year old mothers and just about every one of them was truly overweight. To them, I may as well have been an elite athlete. My kids are easily the most important thing in my life and I am proud that I can exemplify a healthy and fit lifestyle. I am convinced that the fitness I have gained through triathlon will ensure that I will be around to watch my kids grow old.
One of the many reasons I enjoy biking is the opportunity it provides to really talk - and a good conversation makes the miles just melt away. I love talking about my kids; but I’ve realized that unless you have your own kids, hearing kid stories can only be tolerated in small doses. Since most of the triathletes with whom I train do not have children, riding conversations tend to revolve around upcoming races, plans for future training, coaches and the like. Conversely, at the school bus stop, we talk almost exclusively about our kids and discussions about my races are usually limited to someone asking the distance of each leg, followed by a shaking of their head and then a quick diversion to the latest school gossip. I’ve also come to realize that talking about my professional career in risk management is a non-started with triathletes. No matter how you slice it, buying insurance just isn’t that interesting. At the office, similar to the bus stop, a discussion about a race is usually limited to someone asking the distance of each leg, followed by a shaking of their head and then a quick diversion to the latest work gossip.
At some point during the Reston ride, a group decision was made that 110 miles was sufficient as it was a hot, humid day, so we decided on a course that veered slightly off the marked Reston route. I had a vague idea of where we were, but figured I was with a larger group and I would just continue following them. While we were still on the marked route, we came upon spray painted directions on the road that provided for two options – turn right for a “hilly” ride or continue straight for the “more hilly” option. I was horrified as I watch the group go straight. I’m pretty sure I rolled backwards a couple times going up that long steep hill. I was the last of the group to make it up, over and down the hill where the group was waiting. I told them that for the rest of the ride they shouldn’t feel obligated to wait for me as I wasn’t sure if I could maintain their pace for the next 30 miles. Besides, based on my recall and their description of our newly planned route, everything eventually ran into the W&OD trail.
Well, I missed the trail - by seven miles. By the time I doubled back and eventually found the turn off to the W&OD trail, I had gone nearly 14 additional miles. I finally made it back to Reston Town Center where my group was just finishing their post ride meals. I proudly announced that I just had completed 123 miles. They cheered, congratulated me and laughed with me as I described my misadventure. Despite being extremely tired, I felt good.
The e-mail banter among the group started that evening, where everyone chimed in about having a great time on the ride. The banter quickly turned to training plans for the upcoming week: swimming on Wednesday, riding on Thursday and so on. As I read the e-mails, I had a slight twinge of jealousy because for me, Wednesday meant football practice for one kid, Thursday was soccer practice for the younger two kids, and so on. But as I watched Brendan make an interception, Ethan score a goal and Seth explore bugs in the dirt piles on the soccer field, I realized that “doing it all” is worth it.
DC Tri Magazine Spring 2008
