His Perspiration Is My Inspiration.

So my brother Brandon finished the Ironman 70.3 this past Sunday. No big deal. Just your everyday 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and 13.1 mile run. After multiple attempts at completing the race, he finally passed that finish line and I was there to see it. The jitters I experienced as I saw him speed walking down the final loop with his girlfriend jogging by his side were overwhelming and documented through my nauseating, Blair Witch-like filming skills. Backed up by my mom and sister's squeamish chants, you can hear me begin to tear up as I cheered him on towards that finish line. The short convoluted clip shows a pained yet proud look on his face as he saw us all there serving as his last wind helping him sprint through that finish line, Cheshire cat smile and all. Words cannot fully express the sense of completion and achievement he must have felt; but rather, they were exhibited through his throbbing knees, soggy exterior, and dried up tears.

Brandon worked hard for that moment. He changed his whole life for that moment, tattooing the Ironman symbol on his calf (there's permanent motivation right there!) pulling two-a-days, converting to a 'religious' vegan (he's in the best shape he's ever been), and fulfilling a promise to his friend Liz who passed away in his arms in a biking accident. He didn't think he ever wanted to ride again after such trauma but knew that this would be a major factor in his emotional and physical rehabilitation. He mentions the physical and immense psychological battles he endured during this race. He had to be his own biggest cheerleader and supported by thoughts of gratitude and positive reinforcement, he told himself, "DO NOT GIVE UP. I AM AN IRONMAN." He spent many moments pleading with his pumping heart, his overworked body, and the fragility of his equipment (he never got a flat, or wiped out). With a mere one mile left, as his body begged to shut down, he began to cry as he thought of Liz and how they had promised to complete an Ironman race together. Backed by the spirit of Liz, I believe Brandon did finish that race with her.

This was a monumental accomplishment for my brother and it's only appropriate to say that it was also one for his family and friends. We were and still are all so proud. The fact that a physical race could evoke so much emotion was an amazing thing to see as we all cried seeing him come through that final chute. With flashbacks of his bike accident, just to see him panting and worn out, was a blessed reminder that my brother is healthy and alive. Seeing my mother's eyes light up as she nervously screamed and cried for him was bittersweet. To her, he's still and will always be her baby. Brandon's girlfriend wore a "Team Brandon" shirt that she had made, trained with him during all these months, and his best friend for over 20 years showed up with his family and put simply, it was just all really special. My brother had his biggest fans there during one of the biggest moments of his life and if I could have frozen that moment in time, trust me I would have. As he has been there for me when I have crossed those knee-buckling "finish lines" in life, I was more than pleased to be there for his.