When I was training for my Ironman distance triathlon in 2009, I was reading everything I could find about endurance sports. I also I was reading about athletes who had pushed the limit and achieved beyond what they or the world previously thought possible. While I certainly didn’t count myself among those super heroes, I was inspired by their stories and fascinated by the things that motivated and drove them to succeed. Not surprisingly, one of the books I read during that time was Lance Armstrong’s, It’s Not About the Bike, My Journey Back to Life. If there was anybody who was out there muscling through adversity and dissuading naysayer’s (even his own inner voice), it was Lance coming back to biking in the wake of cancer.
Because of Lance, every time I take my triathlon bike in to be tuned, someone asks me what the letters “PIT" and "QIF” written on my aerobars mean. Those letters are a reminder and a mantra. They remind me that I can’t go back in mile 16 of a marathon and get in that week of training I cheated on in June. They remind me that I can’t steal away at the seventh water point on a bike route and squeeze in that century I meant to ride in July but closed out at 68 miles because I was tired, or hot or uncomfortable in the saddle. And they remind me that it will be more difficult to look at the finish line in longing knowing that I could have, when I chose not to. You see, PIT/ QIF stands for Pain is temporary. Quitting is forever. It’s a paraphrase of an Armstrong quote (see the thought for the day).
I understand PIT/QIF. It learned it in spades along the roads and trails of the Hudson Valley in the late 1970s.
As a young cadet at West Point, I hadn’t developed the mental toughness to push beyond much pain. As a result, I became an expert at experiencing the pain of quitting. Breathlessness, cramping leg muscles and that panicky feeling of falling behind never were going to last beyond the end of any cadet run. Still, my adolescent head gave out before my healthy young body ever really did. And I can declare without question that quitting was the greater hurt. It stuck with me for years.
At some point we all stand at a place of uncertainty or difficult challenge in working toward tough goals. It’s normal and it’s human. It is the land of excuses and stories and seeking justification for all of the reasons we think we just can’t – when we can. It also is the place where we can find that spirit within us to keep pushing and really "dig deep." It is mental toughness. It is experience, honesty and awareness. And it is learnable and accessible to us all.
Snowman Training Notes: Four hours of aerobic exercise. My torture of choice: 90 minutes of running, 30 minutes of stair climbing and two hours of cycling. Yep, I basically worked out a marathon today in training. Nothing for a super athlete, but I’m not that. I am a fifty-something chick who knows PIT/QIF -- just another training day in the bag. It will be there when I need to dig deep at altitude.
Thought for the day: "Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever. That surrender, even the smallest act of giving up, stays with me. So when I feel like quitting, I ask myself, which would I rather live with?" ~Lance Armstrong
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