I competed in my first Olympic distance triathlon at Noosa a few weeks ago -  swimming 1.5km, cycling 40km and running 10km. I was pretty darn proud of myself too, especially when my trusty watch displayed 2:54 (hrs:min) as I sprinted over the finish line.

So there I was, thinking how good I was, how I achieved and broke my illustrious 3 hr mark. A few things didn’t quite make sense, but that didn’t stop me feeling pretty cocky and extremely proud of my awesome achievement. I was on fire!! The weekend couldn’t get any better and nothing could ruin this very moment, or so I thought…

The next morning started off brilliantly. I was awoken at the crack of dawn by a very excitable boyfriend (and before you let your heads go somewhere else - I mean ‘christmas morning, jumping out of bed’ excitement!!) and an invigorating morning swim at Noosa Main Beach followed. A couple of our friends joined us and we headed to the most popular place in town for breakfast. I was most excited as the official results were in the paper and I could hardly wait to see the times. In hindsight, I should have waited…

The Fall from Grace

As I trolled over the results, soy latte in hand, my name wasn’t listed in the 2:54, 2:55, or even the 2:59 finishers. This couldn’t be right. Then I saw it and the worm suddenly turned – 3:03. My tremendous high had become an almighty low and I could feel all the blood rush from my head straight down to my toes. My dismay was horrendous and there was no time to cover up. I was embarrassed, angry, even more embarrassed and bitterly disappointed. Unfortunately, for my friends and partner, they could not escape and had to witness this full-frontal emotion on display.

My world had suddenly crumbled down and I felt worthless. No one could say or do anything to make me feel any better. In fact, any positive words only made things worse, and much worse. So much for that cocky feeling!! How am I ever going to face the world again!

Reality Check

Hours later and thank goodness, reality set in. I had spent most of the day torturing and tormenting myself, and it was time to put those feelings to bed. It took a few days for the feelings to totally dissipate and for me to be happy looking at mine, and other friends’ results. So what did this experience teach/show me? And why did I take so long to come back to reality? Am I a loose canon? Should I have kept it together? Or am I simply a bad sport?

The Moral to this Story

Whilst the showing of emotions – good, bad and ugly – may not be socially acceptable at times (a tantrum in the middle of a coffee shop is never a good look!), I still believe it is best not to hide them…at least from yourself. Your emotions are always a barometer, giving you that ‘heads-up’ on what is truly going on inside that physical frame. We need to listen in order to make adjustments in our life. How else do we improve and learn!

For me, I wish I had handled things more graciously and let it slide over me, rather than consume me, but, we all make mistakes. I have listened to my barometer and will take a different perspective next time. Oh…and I also, won’t be wearing a watch!!