Quitting

Ya know those moments that sit with you?
I was fairly young, in my late teens, maybe early twenties.
I was in a mountain bike race.
It wasn’t my first, but unbeknownst to me it, would be one of the most significant.
Why?
I quit.
The race was three laps.
The irony is, I fancied myself quite the mountain bike racer,
I wasn’t.
I had raced before, but that’s where my credentials ended.
I was surprised to see my sister’s ex boyfriend there. I didn’t know he raced. I thought he looked like an amateur.
It was within the first mile or so that I knew I was in trouble. The course took us over a rutty farmer’s field. Within a short amount of time, I was off the pace. My sister’s ex was well ahead of me.
Immediately, my ego was formulating excuses.
By the second lap, I was beaten. My head had gotten away from me. I was so far behind that I was fairly certain the leaders were going to lap me. I bumbled through the trail like the amateur I was.
I was not having fun and to make matters worse, I was embarrassed.
At some point, it hit me. I was going to quit.
My plan was rather than going out for my final lap, I’d ride to my car, throw my bike on my rack, and drive away as fast as possible.
The irony was, the idea of quitting gave me a boost of energy.
I was rejuvenated.
I was filled with a vigor and punch I hadn’t had minutes earlier just at the thought of being done with the race.
An irony that was lost on me in the moment.
I remember riding through the parking lot; trying to keep a low profile and manically looking to see if anyone could see me.
That was my biggest worry.
As I drove away, I felt like I had gotten away with something.
Little did I know…
What’s the moral of this story?
What I failed to realize: it was my own personal sense of integrity I had violated. The integrity we have with ourselves is the basis of our reality. Because I copped out, I became a copout. I didn’t give myself the chance to know or understand my own potential or power. I didn’t give myself the opportunity to fail. I instead gave in to apprehension. I reinforced a willingness to buckle when things got hard. I learned to believe in myself less. Our personal truth is forever in a state of flux. Being relentless with your resolve is the basis of a foundation built on a personal sense of integrity.
That race changed me.
If I started, I finished, for better or worse.
Years later, I put that resolve to the test in a way that today, I find interesting.
I raced a 58 kilometer cross-country ski race with the flu. The first 30 kilometers, I raced strong. The last 28 kilometers, not so. When I hit the wall, I was soaked with sweat from pushing so hard. Cross-county ski racers wear thin spandex suits with lightweight long-underwear underneath. It was a few degrees above zero. You stay warm when you’re working hard. When I slowed down, I quickly started to freeze. As my energy faded, so did my coordination. I started to miss my pole plants, and then I started to trip and fall. In hind sight, I’m sure the falling looked desperate and sad. I could have quit. Arguably, that may have been the smarter thing to do, but I didn’t. Each time I fell, I laid in the snow a little longer in a delirium that would nearly overwhelm my body. Every time I got up, the delirium would leave a bit more of its after affects with me. To the point, it soon consumed me. Friends would ski past me and say “you look awful. What are you doing!?” Determined, I pushed forward, only to fall again a short time later. Each time, dizzily pulling myself up from the ground. After nearly two hours of this agony, I was near the end. The last kilometer of the race, you ski off of a frozen lake up a small incline they call Bell Tower Hill. Again, I missed my pole plant and fell with the full force of my unrestrained body. My head and right shoulder hitting first with an equally violent force. My ears ringing from the blow to my head. I remember looking across the ground from this horizontal perspective trying to make out the fuzzy landscape. A sweet woman dressed in a colorful Swedish folk dress bent down to look at me in the eyes and said, “Don’t worry sweetie, you’re almost there.” Slowly, I sloppily pulled myself to my knee and wobbly, found my way back on my skies. In an altered, almost robotic state, I found my way across the finish line.
When you cross the finish line of these marathon ski races, there are often people there to hold you up. I was alway curious about this because I never needed it. That day I did. I fell into their arms with a dead weight that surprised them. It took two to stabilize me. I vaguely remember them telling me that I had bad frost bite on my face and was likely hypothermic.
My friend who had finished well before me had long since changed. After waiting so long, he had begun to worry. He had moved his truck next to the finish line and left it running to keep it warm. When he saw me finish, he came to help me. In one arm, he took my skis and poles, in the other, he supported me under my arm.
Slowly, we walked to his truck.
I know cold. I was born and raised in Minnesota. This is my home.
I’ve swum in water with ice on all sides of me many times.
I’ve raced in temperatures that were double digits below zero with 25mph winds.
I’ve been soaking wet in below zero temperatures more times than I can count.
I’ve been frost bit more times than is reasonable.
I know cold.
The depth of this cold was like none other.
I was so cold, it took me at least a half hour to begin shivering.
It took another ten minutes to start shaking uncontrollably.
I don’t remember getting warm.
What’s the moral of this story?
The idea of failure is a misunderstanding. There is trying and not trying.
Every failure, every bit of pain, every moment I struggled; has provided me with profound wisdom. Life cannot be lived half way. Every action has a consequence.
You can’t hide from yourself. Wherever you go, there you are.
You have either finished what you started, or you haven’t.
These experiences are the basis by which we learn to believe in ourselves or not.
It’s pushing beyond what you think you’re capable of that will allow you to discover hidden aspects of yourself.
Be willing to fail and find success.
Be willing to let go of idealism and find grace and humility.
Be willing to let go of ego and discover your path and your essence.
It’s pushing beyond yourself that you’ll discover self.