Becoming an IRONMAN Kirk Behrendt ACT Speaker & Coach

Last month I did something I never thought I would ever do. I finished my first Ironman-distance triathlon. The Ironman consists of a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride and then a 26.2 mile run. It is widely considered to be the ultimate challenge between body and mind. My personal quest to cross the finish line of this race started 2 years ago and has taught me many lessons along the way about who I have to become in the process of pursuing what I want.

What I didn't know at the time was that what I first thought would become the ultimate physical experience, strangely enough, became more of a spiritual journey for me.

MY FIRST SPRINT

For years I had been trying to get in shape. My morning exercise programs were traditional various regiments, never amounting to the desired result. My resolve was always the same: "This is the month I really get into shape."

It all changed for me early one July morning in 2002. I was enjoying some wonderful fellowship with two great mentors of mine. They were talking about an upcoming sprint-distance triathlon that they were going to participate in. They encouraged me to join them and give it a shot. I thought they were crazy. No way would I do something like that! Who would want to jump in the water and swim 300 yards, ride a bike for 19 miles and then top it off with a 3.1 mile run? That didn't even sound fun, or palatable for that matter. Throughout life we get calls to become better than we are. Well, that day the call came, and I answered. At the time, I thought maybe it was my male ego taking over, or maybe it was God teaching me a lesson but something told me I wasn't going to back down from this challenge, especially from two of my mentors.

Breakthrough #1… I signed up.

The excitement before the race had me riveted until, of course, the gun went off and I started the swim. A plethora of emotions shot through my body. One of them included a deeper level of fatigue than I had ever experienced in my life. The swim was approaching the first of 8 buoys that I had to pass. Horrible thoughts ran through my head. I remember thinking, "I have a beautiful wife, a precious little girl, and another child on the way. What am I doing? I could die out here!" I did everything in my power to stay afloat. Nothing worked all that well. After dogpaddling past the last 4 buoys, and crawling out of the water I remember thinking two thoughts, "Thank you God" and "Never again!"

I pushed my lungs back into my mouth and focused on finishing the rest of the race. It was painful. The heat coming off of the blacktop was unbearable. At times I felt like I couldn't go on. Dehydration was setting in. I was completely spent. I had nothing left. Every part of my body hurt but one thing was clear… a lesson was coming as a result of this. I wasn't sure of what it was going to be, all I knew was that I couldn't give up.

Breakthrough #2… I finished.

During the days that followed, the pain that had filled my body slowly disappeared like a fog rising over a beautiful lake revealing a spectacular mountain in the distance. The clarity was breathtaking. As the pain subsided, I realized that not only was I becoming hooked on this sport after only just one race, but that the lessons associated with it were revealing themselves to be some of the most important of my life. The clarity of this lesson was further improved with the help of my pastor on one Sunday morning. With the triathlon experience still fresh in my mind, he was discussing the power of the disciplines we engage in during our lifetime and how we are affected by them. He said these words, "TRYING is the problem. It doesn't work. If you truly want to experience another level of life that you have never experienced before, you have to stop TRYING and start TRAINING (of course, he was speaking of our spiritual disciplines). I started to contemplate how this concept resonates through every component of my life. He continued to illustrate that training requires a different mindset than trying. It is in training that we commit to something that is bigger than our ability to accomplish it alone. It demands a commitment that is outside of our normal behavior pattern. It requires a coach to help us see what we cannot see. Training involves accountability and series of definitive events.

As with most lessons we learn in life, the concept is usually never a foreign one. We've probably heard it before. This was no new lesson from me, but events that happen in life prepare us to "re-learn" these concepts in a more vivid way. Defining moments in our lives make lessons stick. For me, this lesson was sticking with the help of my first sprint-distance triathlon.

"Stop TRYING… and start TRAINING." What an incredible concept! Now I had to put it to the ultimate test. My enthusiasm about future possibilities was snowballing.

I made a commitment to myself that I would stop TRYING and I would start TRAINING for something specific. Not just in my new found sport of triathlon, but most importantly, in life. When it comes to my relationship with God, my wife, my children, my work and my physical health, all of these things that were so precious to me, I realized that they could not be left in the futile hands of a concept like TRYING. That had to be wrapped with the most important protective coating of an idea like TRAINING.

Now, I'll be the first to admit, my life is not perfect. I started with the idea that perfection was not my goal -- progress was. The words of another mentor of mine, Jim Rohn, were running through my mind. He used to say, "Life demands that we make measurable progress in reasonable time." In order for me to make a breakthrough to another level in life, to experience a significant level of growth, and feel a renewed richness towards life and the future, I had to embrace some new disciplines. I was searching for "the hidden strength" that made up the fabric of the people who were doing what I wanted to do with my life. I often felt like Bill Bixby, the scientist from the Incredible Hulk television show, in some strange mechanical way, trying to tap into this hidden strength that only a few rare people on this earth have ever experienced.

My hope was that if I committed to something I couldn't turn back on, something bigger than I was, something I previously thought was impossible…it would change me forever.

WATCHING THE IRONMAN

Fast forward to September 2003 in Madison, Wisconsin. My wife and I made the trip to watch our first Ironman Triathlon. I had two clients and friends (both fantastic dentists) racing that day: Dr. Brian Gray (Washington, DC) and Dr. Thor Anderson (Stoughton, WI). Watching both of them compete that day did something for me that I can't easily explain. The cannon went off to start the race and the hair on my neck stood straight up. Goose bumps covered my entire body. Brian and Thor ran by us during the swim to bike transition with the most incredible expressions on their faces. They were totally immersed in the "FLOW" of the experience. These were two men who were DOING and THOROUGHLY ENJOYING what most people, including myself, thought was completely impossible.

The euphoria of watching that experience had captured me. Somewhere during the excitement of that day, I turned to my wife and I said, "Honey, I can do this!" She looked back at me, as she always does in the most endearing way and said, "Are you sure?!"

Another breakthrough… the next morning at 10:00 am I signed up for the 2004 race.

No turning back now. Everyone thought I was crazy.

TRAINING FOR THE IRONMAN

The commitment to compete in and complete the Ironman in 2004 caused a series of events to happen that I could have never anticipated. Since July 2002, I had lost over 40 pounds. I was achieving levels of fitness that went miles beyond any previous goals I had set for myself. I was meeting some of the most incredible people. Spiritually, things were coming together for me in ways I couldn't explain. My faith in God surged strongly during this time. As a family, we were doing things we have never done before. In our business, we were attempting things that we thought we would never do. Great names in dentistry were crossing our path in the strangest of ways.

Was this an accident? I think not.

It has been said that serendipity is God's way of remaining anonymous. This was his work.

Brian and Thor gave me a great gift on that fateful day in September of 2003. They gave me the gift of "The Possible." It was in watching these two men compete and complete the Ironman that I realized something about myself. The mind has an incredibly powerful ability to limit the body. In the same sense, if framed correctly, the mind has an unbelievable power to motivate the body to exceed limits never conceived as possible. All we need is the right experience to frame the mind and the training to test those limits.

I was heartily forewarned by others about the dangers to committing to any quest such as becoming an Ironman. Everyone said that there are many potholes along this road. The most challenging of which is the issue of balance. Early on I realized that this, too, would be my greatest challenge. This commitment brought forth two very important revelations. Number one, I was going to really have to get better at "time management" knowing that it would require many hours to train for this event. Number two, I knew that most all of my training would have to be done in the morning, before work, or I was going to be out on a limb with Sarah (my wife) and the kids. My days had to start between 4:30-5:00 am to get these things done. Thankfully, my wife was gracious enough to grant me a few Saturday passes to complete some longer rides prior to race day.

In training for the Ironman, I left no stone unturned. I knew this kind of commitment would need the right plan, the right feedback, the right equipment, the right preparation, and a little bit of luck. I enlisted the help of two great coaches, one of which would be racing with me. I set up a 50-week training plan that had each day planned out with what benchmarks I had to achieved and by when. I surrounded myself with like-minded individuals that were attempting the same thing or have been where I wanted to go. My nutritional plan had to be reconstructed and mapped out with great detail.

I even arranged a practice ride with Thor on the very course I would race on. He knew it like the back of his hand. He was incredibly instrumental in describing all of the nuances, turns, and challenges I would have to be prepared for. He helped me sharpen my plan to attack a distance I had never even come close to completing on my bike. It almost seemed insane to prepare that much for an event that would only take one day to complete. I had anticipated that all of this preparation and training would not be an enjoyable process but the opposite happened -- I found it to be incredibly invigorating.

RACE DAY

Race day started with me waking up at 4:30 am after only sleeping about 2 hours due to the nervousness that was raging through my body. I spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed wondering, "Have I done enough training? I've never swim that far, can I make it? Did I eat the right things for dinner? I hope it's not too hot. What if my equipment breaks down?" At 4:45, I managed to swallow ½ of a bagel and kiss my wife goodbye. She had tears in her eyes and my hands were shaking. I couldn't look at her too long for fear that my nervousness might turn into too much emotion this early. My friend Thor made special arrangements to pick me up at the hotel at 5:00 am. He managed to calm me down a bit and get me to the race area to go through my pre-race preparation process.

When you arrive at the area where the race takes place, you are quickly overcome with how organized an event like this has to be. Ironman North-American, the organization which sponsored this race, does an incredible job of creating the ultimate race experience at all of their events. They have hundreds of volunteers that are very well coached on certain protocols that have to be maintained to ensure the quality of this experience. It is truly amazing to watch all of these people work so hard for free and be that enthusiastic about it. To put it simply, it is a first class operation.

Large speakers are stationed everywhere around the race area with music that starts playing really soft tempos around 5:30 am. By 6:30 am the music tempos increased in a crescendo of energizing songs. The energy was intoxicating. The crowd of spectators were quickly piling in. It was at this point my adrenaline was at an all-time high. My heart was racing. My knees were weak. My palms were sweaty. You name it, I was experiencing it.

The 2.4 mile swim was the first event, and it was scheduled for a 7:00 am start. It was just my luck, that at 6:45 am they announced that this particular Ironman race was "The Largest Ironman Ever" with 2188 competitors. The reason that number is so significant, is that the race starts with a mass swim start, which means all 2188 of us get into the water at the same time and start swimming at the same time.

An incredibly loud cannon explodes to start the race. At that point, the loud & energizing music pumping from the speakers quickly transitions into the song "Clocks" by the band Coldplay. My body was overcome with nervousness, joy, ecstasy, excitement, fear & anxiety all at one time. I just started swimming as best I could. I looked up to take a breath and all I could see were arms and legs everywhere. It looked like an overpopulated fish hatchery that was being fed after a two week drought. I just tried to stay as calm as I could and keep my place. I didn't keep count, but I'm sure I got kicked in the face at least 5 or 6 times.

I was able to calm down after the first turn. The field was thinning out. I remember thinking, "I feel good, but how fast should I go?" So I just stayed behind a group of swimmers that were moving at a comfortable pace for me. I remember coming out of the water and running up to the transition area thinking, "Alright, now I only have about 11 hours to go." It was about that time that I saw my wife and kids for the first time. What I haven't told you up to this point was that my wife was 8 months pregnant. She was going to have her own challenges surrounding this day. And to see her there with my 2 little girls cheering me on, along with my parents and extended family, it was almost too much to handle. I lost it. As I was running to where my bike was, I was really trying to keep my composure. Tears were streaming down my face, and I couldn't stop them. I couldn't understand why. "What a beautiful day!" I thought to myself.

As I continued to finish the bike ride and run, I marveled about a few things. First, I was experiencing the physical manifestation of what I thought was previously impossible. How did I make this happen? Was it my doing? How would this experience affect my life? Second, I marveled about how the Ironman Triathlon is a metaphor for life. It is filled with tremendous highs and painful lows. There were many times where I didn't know how I was going to make it through. At times I felt like my tank was empty. The pain was too great. But amazingly when those lows came, someone or something was strategically placed on the course to lift me up. Prayer was my only tool for the obstacles that seemed to be just too much for me. And then just when I thought I might be out of gas, I would see my wife with my delicious little girls wearing their "GO DADDY" t-shirts. Friends would be running along side me as I was pedaling my bike up some of the steadiest of inclines on the course. All of them filling me with incredible words of encouragement. Their voices would just fill my heart with the greatest of joys. In every case the tears would start flowing again. I couldn't stop them. At times I would think, "This is an Ironman, I'm not supposed to cry."

Reflecting on the Ironman, I have asked myself questions like, "What else has my mind limited me to? What else am I truly capable of if I commit to TRAINING instead of TRYING? What other cool things is God going to challenge me with in the future? Will I answer the call? How will it affect me?"

In an unusual way, I think God gave me the gift of the Ironman for one purpose, "To show me the limits that exist in my mind." The physical benefits were great, but the life benefits were profound.

So I ask you the same question, I ask of myself, "What are you truly capable of? How does your mind limit your life?"

Jim Rohn says, "The greatest gift in life is not what you get, but rather who you become in the process."

The greatest gift that the Ironman Experience gave me was not the tangible things that come with finishing a race like that (the medal, t-shirt, my time, etc). The greatest gift the Ironman Experience gave me was who I had to become in order for me to cross that finish line, and for that, I am forever thankful.

Stop TRYING… and start TRAINING!