Life in a Teardrop


I Woke up this morning to the sounds of techno music permeating what has otherwise been a really quiet campground and I thought “man, those are some rude neighbors. Don’t they know it’s only 5 o’clock in the morning? WTF?”

So, I crawled out of bed and saw that our friend who had been camping with us was already up and on his morning walk. I went to make coffee and looked over at the Lake Mead beach where car after car was driving toward a giant inflatable START sign. That’s when I remembered there was a triathlon happening. It also explained the loud music (I mean, I would certainly need to be pumped up with music before I dove into that ice cold water). I woke Craig up and we decided to go to the starting line to watch these brave souls set out to accomplish a feat most humans only joke about doing from the comfort of their couches.

We walked the mile or so to the beach. It was beautiful and reflective. I mean, here Craig and I were pushing ourselves to the limit in a very different way and after the previous several days of “false starts and false victories,” it was emotional to think about how many times we could have given up on our dream.

Once we got to the starting line, each “pod” was lined up based on their level of athleticism and experience. We happen to get down there right as the “over 40” age group was about to start. Having just turned 40, I made a joke about being lumped in with the 100 somethings because we are obviously the same athletic level and then a lump crept up in my throat as the announcer got everyone ready to go. I realized that these people weren’t letting anything stop them from achieving their dream. It was amazing AND THEN, the “first timers” got ready, oh, it was everything I could do not to burst into tears as I watched people of all shapes, sizes and skill level hobble out (no, really, they had never done this and it was cold and rocky and they were hobbling) to the start and then slowly lower themselves into the ice cold water (probably thinking to themselves, “what am I doing here? What was I thinking? – thoughts I’ve had many times since the moment we started selling all our stuff in order to embark on this journey) and kick after kick, make their way toward the first marker.

It was one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever seen and I am so grateful to have been their to witness it. It reminded me that even though going after your dreams can be painful at times, there’s nothing like the feeling of actually doing it and accomplishing that dream.