half truths ...

When I woke up this morning, I didn't want to get out of bed. I was comfortable. Sure, I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. knowing it would be one of the only chances I had this week to swim. But, for a minute, I considered shutting off the alarm and rolling over. I told myself I'd find the time later. That I'd squeeze it in somewhere.

My heart and mind knew it was a lie. If I didn't get up in that very instant, I probably wouldn't swim until next Sunday. Not a big deal if you are just cross-training. But, kind of important if you are building your base so you can face 140.6. I reminded myself that some choices are worth getting up for. That I wasn't going to regret leaving my comfy bed once I jumped in that pool. It was just another in a long list of half-truths I've told myself over the years to keep my motivation high.

Truth be told, I did kind of regret leaving my bed when I jumped in that pool. It was cold. Much colder than it usual and it took some serious negotiation with myself to stay in.

Again, I told myself another half-truth. It's odd how something that is equal parts truth and lie can be completely motivating or stop you dead in your tracks. It all just depends on your perspective that day. And today, I chose to believe that there was a little more truth than lie in the promises I told myself. I had faith that I'd appreciate a solid effort more than a return to the warmth of my home. I had to. I know you never get anywhere you want to go unless you push yourself.

For 50 chilly minutes, I pushed past my desire to stop. I lost myself in counting laps and daydreams of swims to come. I thought about how hard it felt in that very moment and how much harder it will feel on race day. I acknowledged my weaknesses and envisioned a day when those weaknesses had been wiped away. It was just me, the water and a series of half-truths that I was choosing to have a little faith in.

When I got home, the sky was ablaze. Blue and pink. Orange and yellow.

All those half-truths had paid off. They got me right here to this very moment. A moment where the day seemed limitless and full of potential. It was worth every second.