I was supposed to be racing Princeton 70.3 this morning.
After the New York City Marathon last year, I was happy reaching my goal and didn’t feel a need to keep pushing, pushing right away to see how much faster I could get. (BQ by 35? That’s another story that I think I’m ready to start chipping away at next year.)
I chose Princeton as my goal for this year because it was different, and because I’d had a really good tri last year and wanted to explore the sport more. I thought an Olympic wouldn’t be a challenge enough for me and I should go big or go home.
I started training, and I really enjoyed learning more and getting more proficient in swimming and biking.
I completed the NYC Tri, and I felt great and really proud of myself. And then I realized that I’d still have to bike double that, and it still terrified me, and I just didn’tÂ want to, right now, and so I withdrew.
This week, I swear I’ve seen more Ironman/70.3 shirts and hats than I’d ever seen before. I swam Tuesday morning, and I thought about what my mindset would be like this week if IÂ were racing. I thought about Former Coworker Abby and Susan, who are both doing it. I thought about how I definitelyÂ could have done it, and felt a bit wistful about my decision. But then I remembered the head spaceÂ this race occupied and how the bike training was so scary and daunting to me that it stopped being enjoyable.
Instead, this morning, I’m running the Run 10 Feed 10Â with friends, and cheering for Abby and Susan from afar. And cheering for my coworker Alex who’s running her second half in Philly, and for my friend Sarah who’s doing her first tri.
Have you ever dropped out of a big race? How’d you feel about it?