It's 5:15 AM...

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It’s 5.15 a.m. and for someone who has never been a morning person the last thing I feel like doing is throwing on my running gear and heading to the gym. Twelve months ago I would have laughed at anyone who suggested that I would be up at this ridiculous hour to sweat it out before most have hit the snooze button for the first time. Interesting how much of a difference a year can make.

Let’s go back to 2003. That year I volunteered, along with a friend, to help out at a Danskin Triathlon, and in return was given entry to the race. So with little to no preparation my friend and I headed down to the Jersey Shore on a cold and wet weekend to hand out race packets and write numbers on the arms and legs of eager, and well prepared women athletes of all ages, shapes and sizes.

Dinner the night before the race was incredibly inappropriate and we spent the evening in the hotel bar until the early hours – pre-race prep that probably has you squirming as you read. Needless to say the race was tough, but a couple of hours later I crossed the line to cheers and support from the women whose numbers I had so diligently applied with a thick black sharpie the day before and it was an incredible feeling. I was 27, a newlywed and felt that if I could conquer a triathlon I could do anything, and had total control. I had no idea.

Eight years later, I am coming out on the other side of a divorce, discovering single life again, and all the responsibilities and balancing acts that come along with it. However, one of the benefits is that I am beginning to have that ‘I can do anything’ feeling I had as I crossed that finish line in 2003.

When I was thrown the biggest curveball of my life 12 months ago something in me shifted. I realized that if I was going to make it on my own I was going to have to find a way to balance all of the necessary components of my life and at the same time ensure I was investing in me.

The first step was to join the gym. When I called and told my mother, there was a good thirty seconds of silence, who then quickly reminded me that the last time I joined a gym I didn’t manage to make it there to get my photo taken for the membership card. This by the way is completely true – I made a monthly contribution to a gym for two years without knowing what the inside of any of their fine establishments looked like. But now I needed distraction, I needed something that would keep my mind focused and my body healthy through what I knew was going to be a stressful and trying time.

The place I loathed for its women in matching workout gear, hair and make-up at 5:30 a.m., and the men grunting and groaning to lift that one ridiculously heavy weight needed to become not only my refuge but my friend. And so this new journey began, and with it I needed a goal, something to work towards to make it all seem worthwhile. It was then I remembered 2003 and Sandy Hook. I remembered that feeling of camaraderie, of being cheered on not only from the sidelines, but from every woman who passed me during the entire race. I thought back to the feeling of accomplishment that crossing the finish line brought, how ironic it would be to do it again, and how I could open the new chapter of my life.

It’s my motivation to hit the treadmill, swim, bike, and push myself harder every day. It’s going to get me across that finish line…only this time around it won’t come with the ‘I can do anything’ feeling because I have already proved I can.

Claire

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• Triathlon
• Sports
• Multisport

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