Whether it is fear of success, fear of the unknown, fear of the future, or fear of failure, fear infiltrates society. Fear of failure strikes a cord with countless athletes desperately striving to reach their goals. Perfectionism often breeds excellence, but it can also foster fear. Often times, athletes set specific goals and when they fall short, they feel like a failure. Fear of failure can even hinder people from getting to the starting line.

For example, as a youth, my twin sister excelled in tennis, soccer, gymnastics, basketball, and softball. After finishing her college tennis days, she began to take up long distance running. She demonstrates perfectionism at its core. She has set a personal record in every single marathon she has run. This included her last marathon, where she ran a 3:03 after throwing up at least nine times. However, she often strays away from racing because of the fear of falling short of her perception of success.
This past weekend she raced her first race in almost a year. I was so proud of her for just getting to the starting line. By stepping onto the starting line, she overcame her fear of failure (of not setting a PR.) She succeeded simply by crossing the finish line. (I also have to mention the fact that she ran her way into 2nd place, with some nice prize money to boost!!)

Baron Pierre de Coubertain stated in the Olympic creed, “The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well.” Competition compels you to excel by just getting to the starting line. It is not about the time. It is not about the medal. It is not about the prize money. By trying your best, competing from within, laying it all on the line, you have met success. The world may not see your result as a “success” but if you gave it everything you have, then that is all you can ask of yourself.

My athletic journey will be filled with countless ups and downs, highs and lows, victories and defeats. One of my friends shared with me the following quote that will take me through the wavering battlefields:

Failure is not a disgrace if you have sincerely done your best. We live in a competitive world that measures success by winners and losers, and insists that every victory creates a loss of equal dimension. If one person wins, it seems logical that someone else must lose. In reality, the only competition that matters is the one in which you compete with yourself. When your standard of performance …is based upon being the best you can be — for yourself — you will never lose. You will only improve. Make it a practice to objectively review your performance from time to time. When you fall short, assess the situation and ask yourself: “Is there anything I would or could have done to change the outcome?” If the answer is “no,” if you are satisfied that you’ve done your best, don’t waste time reliving the past. Simply learn what you can from the experience, and then get into action again. If you consistently do your best, your temporary failures will take care of themselves.

Learn from each competition. Redefine success as giving it your all; redefine failure as giving less then your best.

Go forth in your journey to be the best version of YOU. As you strip away society’s view of failure one layer at a time, you will redefine success.

I arrived to the lovely town of Klagenfurt, Austria, and could not help but stand in awe of the pristine lake surrounded by the amazing Alps.  I was so thankful to be able to compete in my third Ironman in one of the most gorgeous courses in the world.

Race week went relatively smoothly.  On race morning, my twin sister, who knows me more then I know myself, exclaimed that she had never seen me so quietly calm, confident, and ready to race. Her words provided me with even more peace of mind as I put my Orca wetsuit on, ready to tackle the day ahead.

The race start could not have been more perfect.  I lined up between Ken and my Timex teammate, Luis (who did three Ironman in three weekends.)  His heart rate was so low at the race start, and he kept cracking jokes moments before jumping into the bright blue lake.  The first 1500 meters was complete chaos. This large man dunked my head under water for four extremely long seconds. I struggled catching my breath upon coming back to the surface.  When I finally regained focus to continue, about 30 strokes later, the same man dunked me under water – this time even longer.  I thought about finding a kayak and quitting right then and there. I quickly erased that thought, caught my breath, and ventured forth, way out of this intimidating man’s way. 

The next kilometer was still rather crowded with lots of slaps and punches. My cap almost flipped off a few times before I reached the canal. Once in the canal, my cap flew of completely, and I decided to let it go this time.  Thinking that I would lose some time with my hair slowing me down, I intentionally sped up.  I only had half a mile left and I was feeling strong. When I climbed out of the water I was not expecting to see a 1:06, a 9 minute pr.

We had a long run to transition and I of course decided to take the longest way around transition with 2500 bikes!  As soon as I was on my bike, I started my Timex Tap and off I went for an amazing ride through the most beautiful bike course.  Thousands and thousands of spectators lined the course cheering “hop, hop, suppa, suppa.” The atmosphere put the Ironman World Championships to shame. The first loop went very smoothly as I crossed the halfway point at 2:32. 

During the start of the second lap, I remained calm despite being way ahead of my predicted pace.  Randomly, the day before the Ironman, I decided to use my Tap Screen Sleek watch instead of my Global Trainer.  Since I felt like I was not pushing too hard and still in control, I did not decrease my effort.  However, I could feel the second loop’s climbs so much more.  What kept me going was that I had to go to the bathroom!  I did not want to stop because I just passed two pros and two amateur females around that time. I was very methodical with my fueling and actually glad I had to go to the bathroom because it meant I was not super dehydrated.  I reached t2 at 5:07, a 16 minute PR.

Once I made it through transition, I did some math calculations and knew I had to run a 3:56 marathon to PR, and a 3:40 to go sub 10 hours.  I never dreamed I would run such even splits of a 1:32 and 1:34, totaling a 3:07 marathon.  The entire marathon I stayed super focused and enjoyed the support and scenery, while consistently fueling.  I kept my cadence high and thought about my technique. I felt my former teammate, Sally Meyerhoff’s presence with me throughout the run. Her voice sounded so real; I was blown away.  I hope to never forget her relentless passion and the sound of her encouraging voice whispering into my ears.

When I was nearing the finish line, I heard my twin screaming and jumping up and down. I was astonished when I saw 9:29 as I ran into the stadium.  I sprinted across the line in a time that I never dreamed I would ever be able to achieve.  I finished as the 12th female and won my age group by 20 minutes.  My goal was to PR, and I exceeded my expectations:).

I was training in Tucson with my coach, about 100 miles away from my former college teammate, Sally Meyerhoff, when I got word of devastating news.    Just days before we were supposed to get together, she was training hard on her bike and collided with a truck.  She was killed instantly.  Tears inundated my stunned face.  I did not know how to respond to the terrible news.  I feared getting back on my bike, but my coach told me that Sally would want me to ride.  With much reluctance and hesitation, I clipped into my bike and so began the most cathartic experience of my life.  I was able to reflect on amazing memories I shared with my dear friend, including experiencing the exact same century ride a year prior with Sally.  At the end of that ride, she had only gone 97.5 miles.  She asked me to ride another 2.5.  I told her “There is no way I can get on that bike again.”  She said, “Okay, I will ride around the parking lot for 2.5 more.”  Then after she got her 100, she proceeded to push me to the ground as we ran our first mile in the 5:40s.  I tried hanging on for dear life, but she managed to destroy any sort of confidence I had after only 8 minutes. She averaged 6:09 pace for the 5 miles after her first century – 40 miles longer then any of her previous rides.

My heart ached for the moments she did not have to make her dreams a reality.  She had a marathon PR of 2:35.  Her goal was to set the Ironman World Championships run record this year.  I believed her.  I admired her arduous work ethic and realized that I had to race for Sally.

I raced the Tobacco Road Marathon in her honor.  I wore what Sally would have wore:  Hot pink compression socks, pink and black leopard print tiny shorts, pink shirt that said “Run for Sally,” French Braids, and Brooks shoes.  I used her legs to help me cross the finish line.  I knew that Sally would have not settled for anything less then a win.  At each mile, a memory of Sally would infiltrate my mind.  When my legs started tiring, I thought of Sally.  Sally would not give up when obstacles arose.  I crossed the finish line with a new course record of 2:55.  Not fast for Sally’s standards, but I raced giving it everything that I had in me. 

I am going to continue going after my dreams to honor my dear friend who inspired me beyond what mere words can capture.  In her honor, my former Duke teammates are going to run a race in every state.  We are also setting up a non profit for female endurance athletes to equip them to reach their full potential.  Run for Sally, run after your dreams.