dragon slayer

I was driving home from my workout, feeling pretty good. I had finished 10 laps in the pool in 22 minutes, which isn't great, but is about twice as fast as when I started. Not because I swim faster, but because I don't need to rest so long between pool lengths. I felt pretty good about that, even when I compared it to an Olympic split time. An Olympic triathlete would be finished swimming in 20 minutes, not 1/3 of the way through. But an Olympic athlete has been swimming longer than 4 weeks, so no worries. The second half of the workout was on the stationary bike. I wanted to finish 12 miles in about 35 minutes. I came fairly close. I finished in 43 minutes. I probably could have finished faster, but I wasn't watching the cadence.
Back to driving home. I finished a 65 minute workout towards my triathlon goal. According to the training program, I should be capable of finishing an Olympic length triathlon in 16 more weeks. I start doing the math in my head. Thinking about how long it would take to do a whole swim, bike, and run. As of week 4, I'd be lucky to finish in 5 hours. That's if I kept my best pace for all 3 disciplines back to back. Probably not gonna happen. That's okay, it's only training week 4, right? On the beginner triathlete website when people ask what time to shoot for the most popular answer is, finish the race. The end. Make it to the finish line. So week 4, it's all good. And then, suddenly, it wasn't.
Suddenly, that goal of completing a triathlon, became this giant monster of a goal. A goal that looked at me and asked, "why are you even trying? This will probably take you all day. At your best, you will take twice as long as anyone who's good at this. They could lap you. In a triathlon." My goal was calling me pathetic. My goal was telling me to quit. Give up. That if I didn't finish fast, then there wasn't really a point in finishing.
Then, I thought about my run on Sunday. The run that left my shins feeling like they're breaking in 2 (hello shin splints, I did NOT miss you). I had planned on a run to a coworkers house, 2.5 miles, which I hoped to do in 30 minutes. It took me 40 (hey, it was slushy out). Heading back, I took a different path, which was much longer than I thought. I ended up close to the ER, so Fritz and I decided to say hello. I was at nearly 10 kilometers then, with about 4 to get home. My friend Loretta asked me if I could have seen myself doing that a year ago. I laughed. No. I could barely run a minute a year ago. She commented on how I'd come a long way.
And there was the key. That imaginary monster was lying. That finish line wasn't too far away. In fact, I am closer to that finish line than I am to the starting line I left behind a year ago. I could do it, just finishing will be good enough, and I'll have slayed a dragon. My cowering inner self suddenly turned to that monster and said, "I'm a dragon slayer. I've got this."
My inner self felt pretty tough right then.

I think that's the type of person I tend to be. I see this finish line, and how far I am from it, and think, what's the point? I'll never make that. Easily prone to discouragement. I think we're all prone to that. Which is why we need to remember -
we are dragon slayers.
There are things that were hard for you, and you kept trying
dragon slayer
there are times you've chosen the hard road instead of the easy way out
dragon slayer
you've ignored the voices that told you to quit, and triumphed
dragon slayer

Your monsters, your demons, they've got nothing on you.

you've got this.