Five Hundred Twenty-five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes

"Seasons of Love", the first song in the second act of the Broadway musical Rent starts out with the lyrics

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure - measure a year?

In daylights - in sunsets

In midnights - in cups of coffee

In inches - in miles

In laughter - in strife

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year in the life?

Aside from the fact that I love that song (and the musical, but skip the movie--totally not worth it), it seems most appropriate considering I just passed my one-year anniversary as a triathlete--June 11, 2005 was my first race (the River City Tri in Logansport, IN). To celebrate, I did the River City Tri again this year...and what a difference a year makes. It's funny--in some ways, it seems like it hasn't been that long since I crossed my first finish line...but in other ways, it seems like a lifetime. So much has happened in the past year that it astounds me when I stop to think about it...not the least of which is that I'm now less than three months away from competing in my first Ironman.

A year ago, Vardo drove about 8 hours across central Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana to race with me in my first tri--I can't imagine how God-awful boring that must have been, but it was so incredibly cool having her there with me that words fail me. I remember hanging out at the scary Super 8 in Logansport the night before the race and going through my transition stuff about 5 times (you know, because clearly I would've missed something super critical the first 4 times) -- I was so nervous that not even the beer I had with dinner settled my nerves. Vardo talked me through what to expect, etc., etc., and then we moved onto more philosophical topics -- like the crazy changes I'd made in my life. I keep a photo of me from the "before" days in my transition pack, and I pulled it out while we were talking. I'm not typically an emotional person (I think I've actually blogged that before), but I got pretty choked up...both from the overwhelming emotion that came with the realization that I had truly made a significant life change and from the fact that Vardo had driven all over the Midwest to race with me. Good stuff...except I was so fricking nervous that I got maybe two hours of sleep that night due to nerves.

I remember standing in the water before the swim start with Sue, Michele, and Vardo (Jeremy had already taken off with the first wave of racers), and Vardo leaned over and said simply, "Roehr--whatever happens, remember this--you only get to have your first race once." Of course, then the race started and I embarked on one of the worst panic attacks I've ever had...sad that it actually was while I was in the water, but I survived and eventually crossed the finish line. Vardo was right, though--I absolutely remember my first race and hope I always will. I'll write more about this year's race in another entry (think rainy, cold, and miserable...yet fun), but the whole one-year anniversary thing really got me thinking about all that's happened in the past year and, frankly, in the past few years.

It's weird to look in the mirror and not even remember who I used to be--not just before triathlon entered my life, but before Weight Watchers, too. There's a small part of my brain that remembers the fairly hopeless feelings, the borderline depression, the general malaise of life...and the part of my psyche that had actually convinced me that I was still "happy" in spite of those other things--honestly, I hope I never forget that. But, I'm OK with the fact that when I look in the mirror now, I see only the person I've become--the crazy tan lines, the kick-butt calf muscles, and, more importantly, the air of self-confidence and contentment that was missing before. That's the person I want to be...I don't want to forget the old me lest I repeat that phase of life, but I want to revel in the new me and all that it represents.

I wonder, though, what my friends and family must think--especially those I don't see on a regular basis. Surely there are some who think I've completely gone off the deep end, that I'm trying to do too much too soon, or that I've changed far too much for my own good...or maybe that's just what I think people are thinking because those are thoughts that run through my own mind on occasion. Nonetheless, I'm reminded of a statement my sister made last fall when I was talking about my marathon training...something along the lines of "You've had every day to get used to the new you--it'll just take the rest of us a little longer." I'm thinking she's probably right--that eventually the people in my life will come to know the new me...and I hope they are OK with the person I've become. At the core of my being, I'm the same...same issues, same humor, same philosophies and values...just with a few added benefits these days--at least that's what I hope. And, if that isn't true...well, not sure what'll happen then...I know that I'm happier now than I've been in my adult life, and I know it's because of the positive changes in my life. I have to think that the people I love will get that...at least I hope like hell they do...

In short, it's been an amazing year--still can't believe all that's transpired, but I can't wait to see what the next five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes hold for me!