Oh, no. You can’t!
Oh, yes. You can!
What is your mind telling you at this very moment?
Have you ever really stopped to listen to what your mind is saying to you, minute by minute, day by day, year by year, decade by decade?
Be honest with yourself and your one precious life. How are you living it?
The Malibu Triathlon has been a family tradition ever since my husband and I biked along Zuma Beach in the late summer of 1996. As we biked in the parking lot, we saw people setting up an event. We asked the person, “What are you doing?” They replied, “Setting up for the Malibu Triathlon tomorrow.” My then-boyfriend (now husband) and I looked at each other and looked back at the person setting up the tables and asked, “Is it too late to sign up?” They replied, “No.” We both said—“Sign us up.”
We didn’t even have swim goggles, but we thought, why not? That was 24 years ago. We managed to get to CVS later that day to purchase a couple of goggles and we ate pasta the night before, but that was the extent of our preparation for the Triathlon the next morning. What was our time? Who cares—we had the time of our life!
Since 1996, I’ve participated in the Malibu Triathlon time and time again. With friends on teams, with my son and daughter, and even managed to win the “celebrity” division when I was the Malibu Mayor in 2008. (I had hoped to represent Malibu and inspire others to say “If she can do it, then anyone can!”).
Last week, I signed up for the first ever Virtual Malibu Triathlon at the last minute. The regular Triathlon had been cancelled because of COVID-19, but the “virtual” Malibu Triathlon was on. I wanted to see if I could do it, and to also give back to Children’s Hospital Los Angeles—a wonderful local nonprofit that literally saves children’s lives on a daily basis.
The water was cold, the waves were crashing and it was just me and the wide open ocean ahead. I didn’t want to go, but I had just seen some friendly neighbors on the beach who had just completed a birthday swim for a local 80-year-old earlier that morning.
Pamela Conley Ulich