A Life of Care and Sacrifice

My entire adult life was focused on caring for and prioritizing other people. Becoming a mother at 18 didn’t allow for much self-focus and discovery. Fast forward 20 years, and with a 20-year-old and two teenagers, I found myself with some breathing room—time to think, reflect, and wonder. In fact, more time than I knew what to do with. At 38, I began gaining a few pounds, feeling a bit lonely and depressed (or more than a bit) as everyone around me seemed to have their own things to focus on.

A Turning Point

I had no community, no friends to speak of. I had work, but co-workers don’t really count as friends. My husband was focused on real estate, building his business, putting his mark on the world, and not physically or emotionally available to me. It took me some time to realize that our values and ethics were never truly aligned.

For the first time, I took a step back, critically looked at my life, and felt that there must be something more. I had worked very hard to carve out an existence, attempting to provide my sons with a decent life, trying to be a good wife. I studied to obtain a degree, to become gainfully employed to help support the family and bring stability. I eventually turned that employment into a career that spanned over three decades. I went through the motions, checked the boxes, and satisfied the “shoulds.” What I didn’t do was develop as an individual. I was my parents’ daughter, my husband’s wife, my children’s mother. I had no clear understanding of who I was, what I wanted, needed, or desired. I had accomplished many things to be proud of, but none of them belonged only to me.

The First Step

The day I walked into the Bucks County YMCA, I didn’t realize I was taking the first step on the path to learning about myself, peeling back the layers that had built up over time, and beginning to uncover the core of my being. Not just who I am, but what my spirit is, why I am here, how I serve, and what my value is. I’m getting way ahead of myself—this story is but a step on this longer journey, and it hasn’t been until recently that I recognized the importance of this single first step.

Meeting Sharon

As a new Y member, I made an appointment for a physical evaluation to determine my goals and benchmark my fitness. At this appointment, I met Sharon, a bundle of positive energy soon to become a mentor and friend. As I write this, I recognize Sharon as a positive psychology practitioner, a term I was unfamiliar with at the time. She has her own brand of optimistic thinking style; nothing is impossible, and she practices her craft with a smile. Nearly immediately, I signed up for her class to prepare non-runners or beginning runners to complete a 5K. There is nothing in the course description regarding racing or competing; it’s about completing.

Rekindling an Old Dream

On a deeper level, Sharon sparked my interest in a goal I had tucked safely away in the back of my mind on multiple occasions. Her words and actions shone a glimmer of hope as to what might be possible.

If I could take you back in time yet again to the genesis of this faraway goal, a time before babies, marriage, college, work, and all the rigors of responsibility. A time when we gathered around one family television set that received three channels. We watched shows when they were on or missed them. Fast-forwarding through commercials, recording, and binge-watching were as foreign as little green men descending from above—or maybe more foreign still. It was a Sunday afternoon spent watching “The Wide World of Sports,” the opening notorious for “the thrill of victory” and the unfortunate skier that week after week crashed to the phrase “and the agony of defeat.” (Funny how I don’t remember what video denoted the thrill of victory…). That particular Sunday, I sat mesmerized as a group of athletes competed in a three-part race that, until that day, I was unaware existed. First, a swim in the ocean waters of Hawaii. After this epic swim, the athletes mounted bicycles and made their way through lava fields and scorching heat for a seemingly interminable distance. Finally, bikes were shed, and a marathon run commenced. To my young mind, this was the epitome of athleticism. These competitors showed grit, determination, and resilience far beyond anything I had ever witnessed before.

Julie Moss: An Inspiration

And then came the finish line. Julie Moss collapsed a quarter of a mile short of the finish line, rested for a few minutes, and resumed the race, only to fall again 100 yards short, and again, 50 yards short, and one final time, 15 yards short. However, her race wasn’t over. Julie Moss crawled across the finish line on her hands and knees. Her efforts to complete the competition in the face of such resistance forever imprinted that moment in my mind.

I gained a couple of things watching this incredible athlete complete an intense physical challenge. One is the utmost respect for the athletes that step up to take on the challenge of this competition known worldwide as IRONMAN, and secondly, tenacity—the ability to compete in the face of physical, mental, and emotional adversity. I’m confident that Julie Moss had no idea the impact her finish had on my young mind, but she is forever part of my story.

Embracing the Challenge

Back to my inspiration at the YMCA with Sharon. Sharon also conducted a group of tri-newbies, introducing participants to the sport of triathlon. I wasn’t quite ready to jump into that, as I needed to address a doubt that had been planted by the very people closest to me. I explored an event held in Tupper Lake, New York, to discover that it was a half-IRONMAN distance triathlon. A half-IRONMAN includes a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike, and 13.1-mile run. I was laughingly informed that I was “incapable of completing one of those events, let alone all three in the same day.” Along with my dream of triathlon, I tucked this gem away too. I had a choice; I could let this stop me and accept that I couldn’t do this, or I could take it on as a challenge and step up to see what I was made of.

The Road to Tupper Lake Tinman

Two years after joining the YMCA and meeting Sharon, I made my choice. I would accept the challenge and complete the very race I was discouraged against attempting. In June of 2005, I completed Tupper Lake Tinman, one of the longest-running triathlons in the United States. I rose to the challenge with that feeling of determination, commitment, and resiliency that I saw all those years ago in Julie Moss and the other competitors I watched that day.

Taking on the Full IRONMAN

The story doesn’t end there. The following year, I took on the full-distance IRONMAN event! I incorporated all the things I learned preparing for Tinman, hired a coach, and dug into preparing to double that so-called “undoable” feat. In addition to training runs, swims, and bike rides, I still had a career to focus on, a house to manage, teenagers/young-adult sons to support, daily two-hour drive times to navigate, and a relationship that was in dire need of attention, repair, development, or breaking off. I found it much easier to focus on work and training than to take on the relationship challenge. (That can be the focus of another story.)

Race Day: IRONMAN Lake Placid

After six months of focused training, early mornings, late nights, and lunchtime workouts, it was event week. Packing checklists, travel logistics, packet pick-up, weigh-ins, pre-race meetings, pre-race nutrition—so many things to manage. My sons, their girlfriends, and extended family all traveled to Lake Placid, New York, to witness me attempt this event. I brought a full cheer squad, and then race day arrived. After my transition area was set, bicycle tires freshly pumped, halfway bags packed and dropped off, I made my way to the water’s edge. The early morning mist was rising off serene Mirror Lake. There was a stillness, quiet, solitude. In this quiet solitude, tears came—tears not of sadness, joy, or sorrow, but tears of nervousness and doubt. Who was I to think I could do this? IRONMAN is for elite athletes, not me—a daughter, mother, wife, employee. Now was the time for my inner resilience to kick in, my Julie Moss. I had purchased the equipment, committed to the event, dragged my family six hours from home, and completed 80-90% of the training. I needed to get in the water, take one swim stroke at a time, mount my bike, and round each pedal stroke, and finally don my runners and put one foot in front of the other until I covered the 140.6 miles that is IRONMAN Lake Placid. And that, my friends, is exactly what I did!

Achieving My Goals

I arrived in Lake Placid with three goals: first, and most importantly, to live. The day prior to the event, there was heavy rain. To be out on a road bike with 22mm wide racing slicks going down a nine-mile hill in the rain, in my mind, equated to death. Fortunately, there was no rain on race day, and the roads were dry. Goal number two: to finish. Each of the three events has cutoff times, and the overall event closes after 17 hours. If you miss any of the cutoffs, you are pulled from the course and cannot continue. The third and most distant of goals was to complete the event in under 15 hours. Based on my performance during training, I had a pretty good idea of what my swim, bike, and run paces were. I factored in for futzing in transition areas, stopping for bathroom breaks, and other such distractions. By competing to complete, the focus was never on winning, placing, or qualifying. Being at the back of the pack allowed me to get the most for my money!

As I’m sure you’ve been able to surmise, I met the first goal since I’m here to talk about it. Check. The second goal was also achieved. I had the honor of world-renowned race announcer and commentator, Mike Reilly, the “Voice of IRONMAN,” say these words as I crossed the finish line: “Betsy Simmons, 41, from Doylestown PA, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN.” Goal two: check. And finally, goal three: as I crossed the finish line, the time on the race clock reflected 14:59:32. Goal three: check, with 28 seconds to spare!

The Magnitude of the Accomplishment

It took a full year for the magnitude of this accomplishment to hit me. It wasn’t until I watched a very dear friend finish the race in 2007 that I realized how very special it is to be able to call myself an IRONMAN. It took the same diligence, focus, resilience, and grit that I witnessed all those years ago on the family television to cross that finish line. This achievement translates into all areas of my life. I know that if I choose to do something, regardless of what it is, I can prevail. I call on the same inner strength to face the hard things in life, and I know that you can too. No one has the power to tell you that you can’t—the only reason you can’t is because you choose not to.

A Path to Flourishing

An important key to my success was seeking and asking for the help and support I needed to follow my dream. At Journey of WE, we are here to assist you in uncovering those long-quieted wishes, dreams, and goals. There is nothing that is beyond your reach. Connect with us today to begin your pathway to flourishing, well-being, and your most extraordinary life