Mike Tarrolly – Co-Host Crushing Iron Podcast
In two weeks I’ll be on the Ironman Wisconsin course for the sixth time — my 11th Ironman since I turned 50 years old. I feel pretty decent for feeling like shit.
As usual, I am technically undertrained for this race. Looking at my Training Peaks is quite hilarious considering a large portion of my work has been done on a SUP board and Hydro Bike.
I’m not exactly sure why I keep doing Ironman, but this week I came across a clue that may explain things.
I was listening to a podcast and the guys were talking about intermittent fasting and how essentially it’s putting the body in starvation mode. One of the points made was that fasting is much more reasonable for younger people. Their bodies are more equipped to handle the stress. But as you get older, it can really mess with your hormones, ability to heal, etc.
This is especially true for very active people.
Then he said it, “I think the biggest problem with fasting is that people do it for physical reasons, when it has much more power as a spiritual practice.”
That resonates with me on a deep level, and I immediately made the Ironman association.
If you pinned me down, even as someone who makes his living on . . . and races Ironman frequently, I would probably admit this probably isn’t the healthiest approach to life. It’s insane amounts of training, pounding, fatigue, sleep troubled nights, personal conflicts, etc. But, there’s also a lot of beauty in the suffering if you approach it as a spiritual practice.
I’ve often referred to my Ironman races as a “compass” and on a surface level that meant it “keeps me out of too much trouble.” But, when you look at it as a sacrifice of the easy things you might normally do, it really takes on deeper meaning.
I remember growing up and hearing about how religion had mandatory fasts at certain times of the year. I thought it was the craziest thing, but it fascinated me. Why would someone suffer on purpose? Now I understand.
David Goggins has talked about how there is multiple years of learning within an Ultra Marathon. He must go through so much pain and suffering that his mind experiences a master class on life.
Ironman is similar.
Every single time I’ve done one I have openly professed it will be my last. Sort of like someone saying I’ll never drink again after a long night of shots.
But eventually we come back. Is it an addiction to the pain and suffering? Is it the spiritual learning? Is it a search for love of self?
One of my favorite things about Ironman is the absolute power it has to bring you into the moment. It’s very difficult to think about silly life problems when you’re swimming for over an hour or 80 miles into the bike or 18 miles into the run. You are right in that moment with all the pain, suffering, and desire for it to be over. No one forces you to stay on the course, but there is a majestic power that won’t allow you to quit.
I’ve often referred to Ironman training as “breaking up the rocks” in my body. It’s like going through intense therapy that loosens the pent up tension we’ve held inside for years. It can be painful and certainly emotional, but nothing good ever comes easy.
Even though it can really suck and probably isn’t the best way to feel good on a daily basis, Ironman training, when kept in perspective, will build strong layers of armor for life. It’s not easy to see in the moment, but when I look back over the last 10 years I can see how I’ve changed.
The physical benefits of being able to do something like this at the age of 60 are obvious, especially when I look around the room at reunions. But it’s the mental change that may be the most powerful.
Not many things overwhelm me like they did back in the day. I look at pain, suffering, and illness totally different. They are now indicators not ultimatums. I accept them in the moment and move through them without giving them power.
I have also become more comfortable with the concept of death.
The thought of watching my dad die was something that would have made me run and hide in my younger days, but when he slowly left the world right before the world left us in 2020, I leaned into it. I was there with him in the moment. He showed me it was nothing to be afraid of.
It was right after Christmas and he finally gave me the gift I’d been wanting since a child, peace of mind with the biggest mystery.
None of us are immune to the anxiety of facing Ironman. It’s the elephant in the room of a house of horror that for some reason we have paid to tour. We are never at peace with the Ironman mystery until we actually show up and walk the plank.
We must go face to face with the challenge to see our potential. It is not about the time or the accolades, it is a spiritual laboratory that is building us into a stronger soul.