JUST FINISH

“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”*

In 1982, Julie Moss, a 24 year old California college student, wanted an easy project to complete her Physical Education degree. One day she saw a broadcast of the Ironman Triathlon held in Hawaii and was drawn into the idea of trying it. Although not highly competitive in sports, Julie surfed the California coastline, felt herself to be in good shape, and figured entering the Ironman would be a straightforward pick for her project. It looked like fun.

Ironman’s Triathlon begins with 2 ½ miles of swimming in the Pacific, 112 miles of biking inland, and ends with a 26 mile marathon. Julie trained for each of these events, but did not reach the point of completing any of these distances before the actual race. How hard could it be?

Despite or perhaps because of such a breezy attitude, at the end of the biking leg Julie found herself in second place. The woman in lead, Kathleen McCartney, had slowed down after spraining her Achilles heel, and not long into the marathon, Julie pulled a mile ahead of Kathleen.

The unexpected success began a series of shifting attitudes in Julie’s mind. The competitive drive kicked in first. “I’m good at something, and somebody is trying to take something I am now attached to.”(1) Maybe she was actually going to win the women’s triathlon, to own the race.

Four hundred meters to the finish line, Julie’s body began to break down. She had not taken in sufficient nutrition and water and now came a “train wreck”, as she put it. Her paced slowed considerably, then ABC network cameras witnessed her legs buckle like a drunken sailor and her body crumple to the road. She formed a kind of tripod with her forearms and pushed herself up, hobbled a ways, trotted a few steps. She fell and dragged herself up several times. At last she collapsed onto her back, legs and arms splayed in utter exhaustion. This must be what dying felt like. Moments before, Julie’s thought was “this race is mine;” now she was of a mind to surrender to the relief of lying there. “I quit.”

Then out of her peripheral vision, she saw tennis shoes and legs go by. Kathleen McCartney, who had been 20 minutes behind her, swooshed to the finish line. Julie could see that finish line; it was just ten feet away. Julie’s whole being became still, and she heard a voice in her head say, “Get up. Just keep moving forward.”

Well, she couldn’t get up.

But…she could crawl. She later said she knew “my life was going to be different; I was changing. I made a deal with myself. I don’t care if it hurts; I don’t care if it’s messy; I don’t care how it looks. I would finish.” On hands and knees, literally one inch at a time Julie indeed moved forward amid TV cameras and cheering spectators. Finally she lay down belly up and flopped over that white line.

Enthusiasts of the event have expressed that Julie changed the nature of the Ironman forever. Competitively speaking, she did not win, but with every fiber of her being, she owned that race. It was not pretty, yet her struggle became her glory. Over the years people have told her that seeing her that day on TV inspired them to get up off the couch and challenge themselves in new ways. Through her, one of the Ironman mottos became “Just Finish.”

(1) Quotes taken from an interview with Julie on RadioLab (http://www.radiolab.org/2010/apr/05/limits-of-the-body/).

*G.K. Chesterton (British Christian apologist, humorist, and man of letters – 1874-1936)
**See Julie's race

Just Get On With It

Nobel Prize winner Kenzaburo Oe wrote a set of essays in 1999 entitled, "A Healing Family," about life with his handicapped son, Hikari, aged 30 at the time of the writing. Oe writes how upon finding himself with many handicaps that limit and tax him, Hikari nevertheless continues to focus on his life habit of music composition. Hikari's dad says of his basic tenacity in the face of his disabilities:

I received a letter from him: "It's no good...I should never have lived to be twenty." But, though he may have felt that way at times, he has never acted on those feelings, never just given up and stayed all day in bed. And this surely--the fact that he actually gets up every morning looking forward to seeing his friends at the training center, that he takes a certain pleasure in the contents of his lunch box, that he comes home and listens to records or throws himself into his composing--all this is evidence of his own basic resolution to "just get on with it." And it is true that this resolution has been one of the cornerstones of our family life.

Hikari's resolve reminds me of one woman's biography found in the Bible. Naomi, the mother-in-law of Ruth, who eventually became King David's great-grandmother, was devastated over her husband and two sons' deaths while refugees in Moab. One of her dead sons had been Ruth's husband. When Naomi returned to Israel with Ruth, the townspeople could hardly believe it was she. "Is this Naomi?" (naomi in Hebrew means pleasant.) She retorted, "Don't call me Pleasant, call me Mara (or bitter)." And yet, when she saw Ruth's resolve to find resources for food and permanent dwelling, Naomi herself began to hope in their future. She encouraged and coached Ruth through the process of courting Boaz, until the day came when Naomi held her grandson in her lap. The townswomen said to her,"Boaz will renew your life and sustain you in your old age." She did not disagree this time. In spite of horrendous setbacks Naomi and Ruth got on with what life they had been given, eventually reaping a benefit.

Arthur Greeve, C. S. wrote his lifelong friend, C. S. Lewis, that he was anxious about the slow progress of his career. Lewis replied, "It is not your business to succeed, but to do right: when you have done so, the rest lies with God."

May this beginning of a new decade be one in which no matter what our limitations, setbacks, fears, and discouragements, we will take a deep breath, say a prayer, and just get on with it.

The rest lies with God.

Postscript: You can listen to samples of Hikari Oe's compositions on Amazon.com.