It was our first time completing our first triathlon as a couple together.
This time, it felt different. In the past, before any race, I would be a little nervous and tense, checking and re-checking all my items the night before, replaying the scene of the actual race over and over in my head: Swim cap and goggles on; messy swim-start, slimy transition to the bike; swim-cap and goggles off; helmet, race belt, biking shoes on, run and mount on bike; stressful weaving in and out of cyclists; (quick drink!), park bike, helmet off, running shoes on… and then press on till the end!
It would be a messy, salty swim start, a confident and easy bike ride where I overtook other riders, followed by my own disappointing finish during the run, getting overtaken by others as I slowly lost steam.
This time, things were different: We were married, and it was our first time doing a triathlon as a couple together. Through it, you taught me new lessons about racing, and tips for a lasting marriage together.
1. Carry each other’s load.
This time, packing was easy.
Having done numerous triathlons and even an Iron Man event before, you knew exactly what to pack off the top of your head. You even pumped my bike tyres and reminded me about my sunglasses. You took my racing items and packed it together with yours in a giant red backpack. When I offered to carry my own load, you said no. “See, everything fits together nicely in mine.”
Lesson Number One I learnt: In a marriage, carry each other’s load.
It may not be your “stuff” but carry them anyway. Because in a marriage, we move from “you and me” to “we”. You taught me, that it’s our stuff, not “yours” and “mine”.
It reminded me of the many times we had had to work out conflicts, because we were different, and broken in our own ways. I, in the thick of a tantrum, would be reacting to some inconsequential thing you had said, because somewhere in my past, I had been wounded. But we always talked it out, and you always stuck through by and with me, saying that it would be okay, you didn’t understand fully but would try. In doing so, you were carrying my past hurts and burdens as your load, helping me grow through my fragmented insecurities, helping me heal and seal them together.
Over the past nine months, I have grown tremendously in spirit and in character, because you have carried my load patiently. I hope I have done the same and will continue to do so for you, too.
2. Be each other’s best encourager.
You surprised me by showing up at the run segment of the race. Your race wave was about 20 minutes ahead of mine, since they usually segregate the men and women participants, so I wasn’t expecting to see you at any point of the race route.
After a salty and slimy sea-swim (which often involves being kicked, swallowing gulps of seawater and being bobbed un-rhythmically by the currents) and a long bike cruise being toasted by the warm sun, I often approach the run with a deflated spirit- it is my worst and poorest segment. “Finishing strong” is a term I listen to sheepishly.
But there you were, with your phone camera in hand at the start of the run route, and a big smile plastered across your face, waiting for me, ready to catch a picture of me running on the race.
“What? You finished already?” I asked, panting as we raced on.
“No, I’ve been waiting for you!”
I found out you had been waiting there for me, under the hot sun without a drink, for twenty good minutes, so that you could start the run and finish the race with me. You knew it was my weakest link, and that your presence would encourage and energize me.
Lesson Number Two I learnt: Be each other’s best encourager.
Your running next to me at the run segment, with a big grin on your face, was the biggest energy booster I could ask for. I probably achieved my best run time in a triathlon.
Before your race, I hung around at the Start Point to cheer you on. Just before the race horn went off, you, in front of all the other participants, leaned over the barricades to ask for a kiss, to my greatest embarrassment. I was blushing from ear to ear in front of everyone, but inside, I was bursting with colour and joy to know I was your best encourager too.
3. Finish the race together.
You had sacrificed your personal timing in order to wait for me, just so we could finish the race together. It meant a great deal to me, to sprint past the finish line together with you.
Later, over lunch, you confessed that you had blown your legs on the bike, and if it weren’t for me running by your side, you would have walked to the finish line. I guess that’s the beauty of running the race of life together:
As each other’s encourager, we can achieve more as One than we dreamt of by ourselves.
You taught me, as it is in our marriage, that achieving personal goals are never half as satisfying as finishing and completing a common goal together.
Cheers to many more triathlons,
and years of marriage together, Cliff.
Love.
