The night before the Ironman event in Copenhagen two years ago we all went to get food to bring back and eat in the apartment we had rented through Airbnb. I knew it was a pointless venture to even try and eat, as the acid in my throat brought on from a sustained and merciless unrelenting week long anxiety attack submerged any trace of an appetite, but I knew I had to at least attempt to eat to try and gain some energy for the following day, which would be a long one.
Myself and my girlfriend at the time Roz, were there to support her sister Rebecca and her long term boyfriend Mark who were both competing in the Ironman the following day. The amount they sacrificed to get to the start line was massively inspiring and I was truly doing my best to drag myself back into some form of normality so I could support them from the side-lines.
In the past when I was in this condition I would lock myself away and hibernate, not out of some selfish un-empathetic act but because the guilt I used to endure knowing that perhaps I’m darkening others around me was often worse than the depression and anxiety itself. However, in this situation it simply wasn’t possible. I wanted to tear my skin off as I consciously fought for breath while an intense headache throbbed with every heartbeat, my mind too full with toxic and viciously colliding thoughts to allow any form of positivity to creep in.
It was no one’s fault, not mine, not those around me, and often when I found myself in this acute stage of anxiety I’d search for scapegoats or situations that perhaps may have invited it upon myself. Sometimes there is a reason, but in some cases there simply is none.
Trying to sleep is not a valid option. Sleep deprivation clouds any rational thinking, allowing for not even a moment of calm as your mind continues to torture you without any reprieve. It truly is exhausting but what was more devastating is that I had not felt this way in so long. The vague optimist in me felt perhaps I had finally seen the back of my demons but now they had returned in all their haunting glory while I fought so they would not haunt those around me.
The morning of the Ironman we all got up around 5am in order to make it to the start of the swim section of the race. I had stared at the ceiling for the entire night and my eyes were burning with exhaustion. This was a big day, and it was about Rebecca and Mark, and I had to dig deep to make sure I gave them all the support I could muster.
The start line was vibrating with an energy I had never experienced in all my life when it came to sport or even music events. There was a bigger picture here. The participants and their loved ones had gone on a journey together and everyone who was there was there for a deeper more emotive reason. This energy seemed to be more powerful than my darkness, it allowed me forget about myself as I felt I was part of something else, a higher power. I was so submerged in the moment and environment I lost any sense of heaviness.
I watched in awe as the swimmers took to their 3.9km sea swim, listening to their supporters cheer with utter pride. I stood on a small section of beach and what I witnessed next truly was catalytic to my state of mind. A young brother was swimming with his twin who had cerebral palsy. He was swimming with his brother in a custom made boat pulling him along as his brother had to use all his strength to stay upright. I had simply never witnessed anything like it. Here we were in one of the most extreme endurance events in the world and these two brothers, against all the odds were taking on this incredible challenge. The brothers then proceeded to do the 180km bike course in a custom made bike. For the marathon at the end they had a custom made wheelchair that they wheeled around the course.
The impact this had on me really could not be quantified and also seeing the pure untainted joy of those finishing the Ironman, especially Rebecca and Mark, touched me so much. I knew that evening that I wanted to do an Ironman triathlon.
I promised myself that if I were to ever sign up for one that I wanted to return to Copenhagen. This was for many reasons. It of course is a stunning city, the fact that I knew the layout of the course helped but above all I really want to return so I can draw a line under that part of my life where I gave my mental health so much power over me, where I simply let it consume and rip me to shreds. I don’t know if I will ever experience that pain again in the future but I know by going to Copenhagen I will allow myself an element of closure, and that is all I can hope for.
I fly out today and will keep you posted on my journey.
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