"A body at rest tends to stay at rest and a body in motion tends to stay in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force." ~Newton's First Law of Motion

I couldn't seem to make myself stop right away at the end of Ironman, my legs kept moving forward even though there was no longer any need, and when I realized this upon greeting my friends and family, I joked with them that since I'd kept pace so long it was likely the only thing they knew how to do anymore. Thinking back on that night now, I'm amazed at the irony and the metaphor.

Having spent the first two years writing about what everyone writes about: the journey there, and this last year writing about what only those who don't finish write about: the journey back, I suppose it only makes sense that I spend the next year writing about what happens after the fact, after crossing the Ironman finish line; how now comes a period of redefining, and in effect, starting over while continuing on.

And man, I didn't see that one coming.

I understand, maybe for the first time, what they mean when they say "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it." I wanted an ending to a very, very long road, a certain satisfaction with myself, a sense of completion, and a pride in knowing I'd vanquished all the things that had saddled my life thus far. What I hadn't planned on however, was that I wouldn't really know where to begin each day without the chore of battling something taxing and oppressive.

You see, over the years I've found my motivation in the rally and the fight; I've found it in the underdog momentum that draws millions to anthem movies and thousands to starting lines, but now with the fight finished, I suppose there's something of a hole. As ungrateful as saying such a thing sounds, clearly crossing that line meant it was in fact the end of an era. I’m just coming to find that beginning another isn’t quite as easy as I thought it would be.

As a result, I think lately I've been getting in my own way by backpedaling in an attempt to return to familiar ground. The other day I realized that since finishing Ironman, I've subconsciously created little wars for myself in order to sabotage certain personal successes just so I could begin working towards rebuilding them again. It would seem I did this so I could struggle through again and therefore guarantee the prospect of overcoming. Again. It’s just the pattern I’ve come to know - fueling my life on long-term strife - but I no longer need or want that. There’s a better way in just taking things as they come, day by day.

I am indeed happy to finally be able to enjoy my life without the nagging presence of an epic personal war. With that, maybe it just takes a little time to get used to the other side of the finish line where things are anticlimactic and constant, stable, and without any high drama or pressure.

Maybe it’s just a matter of letting it all sink in like it did in those final hours, of not only accepting the journey for what it was and what I earned the right to have it be, but also of allowing it to naturally become something else. After all, on September 9th I didn't keep moving indefinitely, my friends and family were there waiting for me at the finish line, and I stopped to be with them. Sure, at first my body felt conflicted and compelled to continue on, not unlike how I've been feeling lately, but come to think of it that only lasted for a little while.

Well I guess Newton was right for the most part, though I have to disagree with him a bit...that force felt pretty balanced to me ;)