What The Ironman Taught Me About Success

What The Ironman Taught Me About Success

I didn't expect to learn valuable lessons about business and success from doing my first half Ironman, but here we are.

I'm not sure where my lifelong dream of doing an Ironman came from—I've never actually known anyone who did one—but somehow, the idea made its way into my head at six years old and I've been stuck on it ever since.

After rowing competitively for most of high school and college, I decided to go for my first triathlon a few years ago and fell in love with the sport. I was enamored with the camaraderie between athletes, the thrill in the transition area, the challenge that came from training for three different sports (which also made it more difficult to get bored), and, frankly, that I was good at it. Not to mention, it's also incredibly special that my two brothers and cousin compete in the races with me. Spectating has become a family affair and this has brought me closer to them.

In my first Olympic distance triathlon, I beat my goal time of 3:15 by 35 minutes, finishing the race in 2:40. I proudly hold this record in my family to this day. (And I use it to my advantage every time they try to pull that - "boys are faster than girls" crap.)

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When my brothers agreed to do the half Ironman last year, I was just excited. I was taking action to achieve a lifetime dream. I had no idea what I was signing up for (and I'm glad I didn't). This was a sport I'd already proven I can do. What's a little more training at the end of the day?

Oh, how wrong I was.

I went into this with three goals:

  1. To beat my brothers
  2. To not get injured
  3. And, above all, to have fun

I started training in March of this year and the past six months have both humbled and challenged me more than I could have possibly predicted. As a seasoned athlete, I’m almost embarrassed to admit how hard training got at times. 

I was a D1 rower, for goodness sake, and I couldn't handle this?

What I hadn't planned for was the sheer mental toughness that comes with ultra-endurance sports. 

The boredom that comes as you enter your third hour of biking. 

The effort required to transition to music-less running. 

The pain of saying no to things that bring me joy, like late nights gabbing with friends.

In truth, I fell into a depression this summer because of the grueling hours of training. My perfectionism scolded me if I missed a workout, my mind begged for a break. 

Lose-lose.

August came and I was doing my Sunday run when I fell. Hard. I sprained my wrist and deeply bruised my right knee. With six weeks left until the big day, I was disappointed I had to spend a few valuable training days recovering. 

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Ironically, this injury was exactly what I needed to return home to myself.

Competition is a good thing. I mean, hello. I'm in sales. It’s what I thrive on, to an extent. But I’d let it take over the steering wheel without even noticing.

I didn’t sign up for this to have a second job. I signed up to fulfill a lifelong dream. And I had a feeling my young self wouldn't want me to be miserable.

I knew I wasn't going to beat my brothers (cross off goal #1), and I'd gotten injured (at this point in the story I’m 0 for 2), but I could still achieve my third goal: to have fun.

This simple yet oh-so powerful mindset shift made the final four weeks of training more fun than the first twenty. It came down to my objectives—I wasn't doing this to prove anything or to win a medal. So I stopped killing myself over it.

This past weekend I found myself on the starting line of Madison's Half Ironman. By (very painfully) removing the pressure to "succeed," I gave myself the opportunity to do what really mattered: to return to the sport, and ultimately, to return to myself.

I had a goal time going into the race, as any good athlete should, but I knew it was more of a loose guide rather than a goal.

Did I hit my goal time? No.

Did I leave it all out there? You bet I did. 

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The feeling at the finish line was unlike anything I've ever experienced. Every single part of my body hurt and I found myself inexplicably crying. I'm still not sure if it was out of pain, happiness, sadness, relief, disappointment, or a mixture of all of the above. It was the most unfiltered expression of emotion I think I’ve ever experienced.

Most successful people I know are type-A, perfectionists, ambitious, goal-driven... but those goals stem from dreams. And as we get older, and farther away from our childhood fantasies, we can lose sight of our dreams in the first place.

There is a little girl inside of me—the reason I took on this challenge in the first place—who simply does not care about my race time. She is so proud of me for finishing, and for giving it my all.

So as I continue to reflect on this milestone experience, I want to invite you to do the same: 

What goals are you striving to achieve? Or perhaps the more important question is, who are they for?

xx,

N

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Kelsey Magness

Founder | Investor | E-mobility Enthusiast

2y

Nora, so so proud of you for completing this HUGE goal. Ironwoman events are not for the faint hearted and uniquely challenge your mental strength more than the physical. I have found that these races remind you that your best self is born in your toughest moments.  You are a total rockstar and badass.

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