Feed his demons: the confession of the "iron man"

Two years ago, I read it somewhere on the web and accidentally discovered the existence of a triathlon. Two years ago I could not swim, do not ride a bike and seasonally ran sporadically, mostly in the spring, until tired. Two years ago I was a normal person ...

And now comes the tenth hour of the race. During this time I managed to run about 20 km, and before that to drive 180 km on the bike and even earlier to swim almost 4 km. And, oddly enough, I can still move and continue to do so. Who am I? What am I doing here? Who are these people and why are they so exhausted? In my head now and then sounds a strange mantra: "I am - thy strength. I - your will. We're the same blood - you and me. "

Who am I talking to? Oh yeah, because two years ago I decided to feed his demon and become the "iron". Well, it is necessary to finish the job and fix the result. Heavy. Incredibly hard, and nothing you do not want. Is it just a cup of ice cream. As professionals manage to pass this distance in 8 hours? Abnormal.

Here is someone quite badly: hunched figure standing on all fours on the side of the road, hiding his face in shame. His sick - it is his demon breaks out. Such as stubborn as me. Run up and hug, slap on the shoulder: "Come on, man, there is not much. Come on, let's do it together "a rubber hand (or rather - lack thereof)! As the stars on the shoulder straps of war, saying that the only guy on the first lap. Poor fellow. He rises, thanks and goes on foot. Shows me gestures that he is better, and I do not have to mess with it. I continue my way, struggling to keep pace, but do not overdo it, to not be on the sidelines as well as he did.

Here is the first convulsion. As always, unexpectedly, out of season and very painful. Stop, grab hands behind the thigh and shout so that the fans are there and watching me at this moment, can not help depict the faces grimacing in pain and cry with me. Yes so naturally and sincerely, that already I want to help them, and not vice versa. They laughed, exchanged a few words different languages, Shook hands, and sent me on. After the fifth cramps I've learned to deal with them on the go - you just need to shout some nonsense like "massaraksh! To give my leg! ".

Coca Cola. It's cold. Drink of the gods. But not all, and the same crazy as we are. A liter bottle of balm in the hands of his wife at all is priceless. I ask you to continue to keep its own unique formula a secret from the world. Especially from the Chinese. Otherwise, in the future there will be nothing to save people, deliberately pounding and torturing races Ironman. Word what a foolish came up... Ironman ...

"How are you?" - "Poor. Barely ran. " - "Maybe you stop?" - "Perhaps, yes. Another 14 km, and stop... "and go to the third, final round of the marathon. She had no doubt of the answer. She believes in me. How can I back off now?

Last reversal. Only that was the farthest point the running stage from the finish arch. Now go home. Now there is no opportunity to drop everything and turn around, because still have to get to the finish line on foot. Or four - that's how it goes. Okay, that this point of no return has already been passed. As chip on my shoulder. More 7 km. Now the main thing - to finish beautifully.

"I am - thy strength. I - your will. We're the same blood - you and me. " From this mantra is no longer breathes despair. Breathes real power, the will and the confidence that it was not in vain. I see that do not fit into the calculated 12:00, and to hell with them - would rather ...

1 km to the finish. Holland, you're beautiful! And Dutch - the nicest people on the planet. Thank you for the tons of water poured on our heads, for music, dancing, trying to read and pronounce the unfamiliar language and culture of your name and sincere joy when you succeed. You - the incredible fans!

This euphoria, but not on the grass, but because the 226 km race is over. Because behind two years of training, hard work, 250 km swimming, 4000 km by bike and 1500 km run. For now we do not have to get up at six in the morning and go to the pool and I can finally get some sleep. Because the dream was once turned into a goal, and here I am, in Holland, and now I will achieve it. A little bit more patience. Here it is, the finish arch.

Someone is trying to get around me, but somewhere in the red light time: "Finish not to give!" And I do not give. The last effort is dispersed and not give. He is mine. And the words:

KORNII KORNIIENKO, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!

Well, for a medal, of course, thank you. Children will be proud of their mad folder. And while they are still small, I did posmakuyu this victory whenever possible. Where appropriate, of course. And where it is not very appropriate, too, because I'm a triathlete! And to hell with ice cream! Give me a bucket of beer is now - I've earned it today.

On YouTube, it all looks beautiful, there is all smiles, but who will stop? Or do you work from Monday to Friday from 9:00 to 18:00, family, children, dog, credit, excess weight, lack of experience, and in general it is unclear how to approach and where to start? Well then, of course... But I myself was once the entrance to the unknown, and I do not stop what I do not regret a single minute. Why? Perhaps, because I know what it is to stand on the coveted top. And, I tell you a secret, the road to it is not necessary to sacrifice his whole life. Well, except for some useless, of course, like Friday's pubs, evening series and fried kartohu. Although kartohu sometimes you can and leave. :)

How? Look around you - someone already going this way until you remain in place and can not be solved.

Feed your demons! Turn your dream into a goal!