I'm dreaming of a rainy Christmas ...

A few more videos. First, Beck on clothing as a Christmas gift:

And finally - just a scene of the neighborhood - and how rainy and gray it's been today. It's been raining and cloudy going on almost two weeks here in Phoenix. Very strange for these parts. In 14 years, I've never seen it rain so much.

Christmas Time!

Some (low light) sights and sounds from this morning at the Baker/Heister household:

First view of Santa's arrival

First gift:

Brody stocking her new kitchen

Beck discovering his new airplane

Holy moly! Wall-E!

A Reflective ...

I haven't had a chance to write since the big day. It's been a long period of recovery. Lots of thoughts have been going through my mind as I've tried to sort out just what the whole Ironman experience has meant.

My body has hurt since the race. More fit Ironmen certainly experience a faster recovery, but I am not one of them.

My feet hurt when I wake. I feel like an old man with arthirtis for the first 10 minutes or so of the day. And I have slept - a lot. I've slept a minimum of 9 hours a night, often 10, every night since November 23. There is something to be said for putting the human body through such a grueling task - especially for a person like me.

I am not the healthiest Ironman. I didn't follow the rules. I turned down the opportunity to party and have a few beers many times, but not every time. I ate Mexican food when I wanted to. And enjoyed more than a few sifters of bourbon with my good friend Rob.

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

There was something in me this whole time; something that wanted to prove that the everyman could do an Ironman. That there's was - to borrow a tired cliche - more than one way to skin a cat. I abhor absolutes. And the Ironman culture is one filled with absolutes. Ironman triathletes, from my experience, are incredibly positive people. But they are also people that abide by a strict set of rules. And to me, that sort of defies the whole purpose of life. It takes the spontaneous aspect of our existence and throws it away. Boring way to live if you ask me.

In retrospect, though, I am incredibly grateful for this experience. It came at exactly the right time. On the back end of this nine months, I am, in many ways, far more aware of my strengths and weaknesses. My ego has been altered, replaced by a new sense of my frailty, of our frailty.

Through these past nine months, I - and my family - have endured a sense of financial hardships, a layoff, the tough economy, and a newfound sense of the thin balance beam that provides a path forward or a precipitous drop off the edge. Without Ironman, and this training, I think I would have fallen off. Because of it, I moved forward, toward that safer, solid ground which exists somewhere in the distance.

There's no way I could have known this when I started. No way I could have known about the connections I have, and the friends I have forgotten and remembered. People who came out of the woodwork and offered support and donations when I dwelled in the darkest spots of this journey.

I am more humble now. I am a better father now. And I think - though Heidi may beg to differ - a better husband now. I understand, more clearly, the sacrifice we make to be great parents to our children. But more importantly, I not only embrace that sacrifice, but eagerly embrace it. My priorities have been set straight - at least for this leg in the journey of life. And none of these insights would have possible without this test.

Like most things, these ideas and thoughts are fleeting. They are a truth the moment I type them - to be integrated into my total package, my total thoughts, my total story. But like any good legal document with a set expiration date, they are subject to change.

This blog, as it turns out, will not end with this post. There's more - video of the race, and some thoughts on the actual race - that I wish to post. But beyond that, I sort of enjoy the regular communication with all of you. So keep tuning in.

As it turns out, I may be an Ironman. But in many ways I am still more like aluminum, less like iron.

I mean, I human for chrissakes ...

- Ed