As I circled the wagons in 2009 on New Year’s Eve, I remember thinking: I have no idea who I am, what I want, and how to get rid of this fat.

My daughter had just turned one; my son two years. Only a few months before that, I had joined a gym and an indoor cycling class. I hated my job — mostly my commute and the fact that when the kids were sick, I was the one who was on duty to get home and also scramble-juggle the work schedule.

I distinctly remember waking up very hungover on the early morning of January 1, 2010.

In the next decade, however, I started to think: I want more.

I would go on to complete my first triathlon. Run some 5ks — some slow, some very fast for me. Manage to cross the IRONMAN triathlon finish line — not one, not two, not three, but four times between 2013 and 2015. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I also wrote a book encouraging women to start triathlon — no matter their age, shape, place or space in life. I ran Marine Corps Marathon as a wheelchair pusher, and then I ventured into CrossFit and back to my weightlifting roots. Last summer, I snatched 70kgs (155 pounds) as a master’s lifter — which is really heavy, for the record. (I didn’t really do much CrossFit after that day. Ouch.)

Going into 2020, where am I?

I am no longer jockeying for my worth by running or doing tons of triathlons. That’s not to say that’s the purpose of endurance sports. So before you send out the tweets — endurance sports saved me. Let me be very clear.

But after a few years, that’s what I was doing: avoiding my life and my problems by swimming, biking and running.

The love for triathlon allowed me to avoid learning to like myself.

Running 10, 12, and 17 miles proved that I was “healthy” despite having a raging alcohol situation going on behind closed doors (and sometimes out in the open).

Finishing four IRONMANS “proved” that I was fit and healthy, despite being drunk and overweight. It shut down the haters somewhat (even though haters are gonna hate; they’ll just change their tune to another annoying song).

The final straw came, however, when I experienced a complete crumbling of many areas of my life in 2017: professionally, friendships and beyond. I learned many lessons the hard way. I was hurt beyond repair (which is what I believed at the time).

What I didn’t realize in 2017:

Looking back on the last two years, I changed only one thing.

I decided what was Nonsense in my life. Then I sought to actively solve it, eradicate it, put a boundary around it, or mark as “to deal with soon.”

Once I was able to see the Nonsense — big, small, dark and petty — I had a choice around it. I could decide what I wanted to do about it.

The problem for most of us, when we feel we are stuck or hopeless or falling off wagons — is that we don’t know what is true. We often don’t see the Truth because the Truth is painful, discouraging, hard and disgusting. But once we see the Truth, we can then do something about it.

If we wander around un-seeing, we will continue to bang into walls.

If we are unable to SEE, we cannot change. We must learn the Truth about ourselves, those around us. We must face the Truth — not avoid it. Stare the Truth right in the eyes, accept what it reflects back, and then decide what to do about it.

As we head into a new decade, the only “advice” I have that has any real teeth is this: open your eyes. See. For now is the time to LIVE, to see the Truth, and then decide what to do about that.

You do have the power to change.
But first, you must see the Truth.
This decade is up to you.

#YearOfNoNonsense