The Start Line: Facing Your Disability

In December, Jaquetta and I watched the 2009 Ironman World Championship on television. The competition calls for participants to complete a 2.4-mile swim in the ocean, a 112-mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run – consecutively. We were both captivated by the tremendous perseverance and mettle that these men and women displayed. Within each competitor in the 1,800-person field resided a distinct and remarkable story. There was Chrissie Wellington, the three-time women’s winner who set a women’s overall course record with a time of 8:54:02. There was Elizabeth Thompson who finished with a comparatively unremarkable time of 15:34:12, until you consider that two years prior to the race she suffered a stroke and had to learn to walk again. Then, there was Richard Decker, the last official finisher. He crossed the finish line 48 seconds before the 17-hour mark, at which time the race closes. Finishing after that time means that your time does not count; it’s not even recorded.

One-hundred and twenty-six competitors either dropped out or were disqualified for not finishing an event within the allotted time (2:20:00 for the swim; 10:30:00 total for the swim and bike; 17:00:00 total for the race). Non-finishers included Kyle Garlett, a cancer and heart transplant survivor. He missed the swim cutoff by seven seconds. Adhering strictly to the rules, officials would not allow him to continue, despite him having competed for over 10.5 hours. Another non-finisher was the 2003 Men's 70-74 Age Group Champion, Edwin Wolgram. At age 76, he had finished 8 prior races. Perhaps, most compelling was the story of Rudy Garcia-Tolson. Due to a birth defect, he had his legs removed when he was five-years-old. This was his first Ironman, and he completed the swim, but the bike challenged him severely. With prosthetic legs, he pedaled using only his glute muscles. He was forced to drop out after missing the bike cutoff by five minutes.

Numerous are stories of heroes who overcome adversity in order to accomplish extraordinary feats. Not so pervasive are stories in which heroes fail to cross the finish line; they fail to complete, let alone win the race. Maybe we don’t find such stories as inspirational or admirable. After all, we emulate winners, not starters. However, I offer that the two are often related, if not synonymous.

Rudy (mentioned two paragraphs ago) is a winner because he crossed the start line, because he wholeheartedly faced his disability. Each of us has disability, whether it is fear of failure, fear of scrutiny, obesity, too much pride, smoking, too much humility, indolence, introversion – any attitude, behavior, or condition that prevents us from maximizing our true potential. Again, we all have disabilities, yet a smaller number of us possesses the self-awareness to recognize them, and even fewer will engage them with unbridled resiliency, regardless of the likelihood of the success of our efforts. Instead of competing, we chose not to enter the race.

This is my last entry prior to the marathon on Sunday. I ask you: What is your disability? See you at the start line.