The View From Here: Reclaiming Self, Hopes and Dreams

by Jennifer Warren

Jennifer Warren heading for the finish line.

Competition? Pushing myself to the limit? Grit/pain? I use to think those days were over. Those concepts were tied to a more youthful time, not a period that someone on the brink of the Big 5-0 had the time, energy, desire or even the right to pursue. Boy, was I wrong.

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Ever since I can remember running was my place to feel unconditional joy and freedom. At age 13, I started to relentlessly pursue its gifts and by high school, my competitive fires were ablaze, awakening my essence, and helping to forge my identity. As college surfaced, my talents flourished. I had a purpose, was authentically alive. However, all good things sometimes come to an unexpected, screeching halt.

Grueling training, mixed with a time-consuming race schedule, resulted in early burnout and an unplanned departure from collegiate running, refocusing on academics and a pending career path. Some intermittent road racing in my early 20's provided a slightly rekindled competitive outlet, but never anything that pushed me to settle unfinished potential business. Why bother? That phase had died off about 30 years ago...or so I thought.

Just as good things sometimes end, a wonderful series of events can magically transpire. In my late 40's, a harsh romantic breakup led to healing via a triathlon group. An initial reluctance to actually complete even a short-sprint triathlon (a 10-year-old knee surgery secured those doubts) resulted in doing a longer Olympic length one – and feeling good. Hooked even. Harder training ensued, and a lofty goal of a half iron – 70.3 total miles – started to take shape.

However, "something" was still missing – the catalyst to not only achieve this goal before my 50th birthday, but to do it not only with passion but solid preparation.The missing link came to me at the very moment when I was ready to embrace it. A good friend had for the third time prompted me to connect with an accomplished triathlete who was a high school friend of hers. One night, I made the decision to do so and from the moment I did, the magic was born. We forged a bond and that elusive, new level was defined and expertly laid out before me. It became mine for the taking. I plunged forward, never once looking back to that life of doubt.

The missing link came to me at the very moment I was ready to embrace it. A good friend had for the third time prompted me to connect with an accomplished triathlete who was a high school friend of hers. One night, I made the decision to do so and from the moment I did, the magic was born. We forged a bond and that elusive, new level was defined and expertly laid out before me. It became mine for the taking. I plunged forward, never once looking back to that life of doubt.

With laser focus, I dedicated myself to a full summer of intense, gratifying training, witnessing a new confidence (blossoming from alarmingly euphoric splits on my Garmin watch that I had not seen in years), along with a stronger, leaner body, evaporated knee pain, and a mentor who believed in my abilities and journey.

Race day – September 10, 2017 – was here. A 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride and 13.1-mile run was looking me smack in the face and I could not have been more ready! I attacked each stroke, pedal, step with fervor and gratitude. As the race progressed, I soon realized it was no longer a question of would I finish, but how strong and fast I would do it.

Weeks later, sitting on my living room couch and glancing at my bicycle training setup, I'm overcome with images of some of those countless hours of demanding training that tested my body, mind, and spirit, elevating them to new heights. As I glance at the 70.3 pumpkin-shaped medal (my race was The Pumpkinman Triathlon), I reflect on the culmination of that dedication: crossing the finish line as a new, better version of the person I once was. I'm awakened to how that journey was not so much about sport as it was about life and the figurative cages we sometimes place ourselves in, duped into believing we can't change, grow and achieve what our heart’s desires.

We do indeed hold the "keys" to unlock limitless potential, simply by committing ourselves to a goal larger than those stifling parameters. One that is bigger than our doubts, one that can transform and that can never be taken away once achieved. 

Jennifer Warren is an English and SAT Prep teacher/tutor and freelance writer who loves hiking, running, bicycling and cross country skiing. This essay originally appeared in the Nov/Dec 2017 Issue.