I’ve been waiting for this to happen. I didn’t know how long it would take, but I knew the high wouldn’t last forever; I’m just sad it didn’t last longer.
I’m now experiencing what call only be called the post-70.3 blues. I imagine this is what addicts feel like once the drugs have worn off. It’s been a few days since I crossed the finish line. I’ve talked ceaselessly about my accomplishment. (to the extent that some are likely avoiding my phone calls) I can no longer brag to family and friends about what I’ve done. Everybody has heard! The race event photographer has sent my photos and I’ve looked at the expression of sheer joy on my face hundreds of times. Others have moved one, it’s now time for me to do the same.
So, I’m going back to my regular life, just like all of you have. Don’t get me wrong, I will be forever changed by this experience. I had to dig deeper than I ever have to reach my goal. I learned that I am mentally stronger than I ever thought possible (and I’ve always thought I was unbelievably mentally strong!) And, I can’t be too depressed, my niece Lucky now calls me “IronMel!”