Two years ago...AKA "My New Birthday"

Here I am, coming off of my 2nd ultramarathon...still sore from it, and possibly getting sick as a result of that long, chilly, and physically taxing day. As I was looking back through old blog posts I realized that today is an important day. A year ago, I wrote a post reflecting on how I had started tracking my running mileage on February 18th 2009, so it seems appropriate that I should do the same thing today. Instead of rehash what I wrote last year, I'll let you read it if you want.

Last year, I wrote about how much I had changed, largely as a result of incorporating exercise into my daily life. With each passing day, I appreciate more and more how much this change will forever alter the course of my life. Because an odd truth struck me this week. It may not seem odd to anybody else because nobody else had the chance to grow up as Me. I grew up as just a regular kid...kinda scrawny, awkwardly tall, and not particularly good at any particular sport, but I played the sax. I was skinny and wore extra large shirts, which only enhanced the appearance that I was most certainly NOT an athlete. Not even close.

The odd truth that struck me this week is that I am an athlete. Like I said, people who know me now say "Um....are you joking? Of course you're an athlete. You are an Ironman, an ultramarathoner, a cyclist, and you have aspirations of someday swimming the English Channel. How could that even be a question?" Well, to be honest I have been living in denial about this status for quite awhile. At first, even though I ran all the time, I just called it exercise. When I started completing bigger and bigger races, I just called it that...doing races. At some point, when it should have been clear to me that I had crossed the threshold between casual exerciser to athlete, I simply stopped pondering the issue. I had never really been comfortable defining myself as such, mostly because I liked the idea that I was just an average dude who did stuff that 'seemed' athletic. But I can no longer hide behind that. I am an athlete. I wasn't born one, for sure, but on this day two years ago, I was reborn as one.

And I truly look back on that day as a legitimate rebirth. On February 18 2009, I was born-again and I became a different person. I was completely unaware of it at the time, but that first step out the door for that first out-of-breath, side-cramping, painful run...that was the first step in a long ongoing journey...a journey that I hope continues until the day I die. This new journey is a life that I never would have considered possible for a scrawny kid like myself. On that day, I was depressed, and in somewhat of a rut, and I made a choice to do something about it. I moved proactively rather than living another day passively.

That is why I have decided to change my birthday. It's really not a big deal to anybody anyways...I stopped celebrating my own birthday a few years ago. Not because I have a problem with getting old or anything. I am 30 and proud of it. I simply don't believe in celebrating it anymore. I was born on October 6th 1980. I didn't do anything amazing, I didn't cure a disease, I didn't raise $5000 for a noble cause...I very passively came into existence without any particular effort on my part. If anything, my mother deserves to have attention, cake, and presents because she is the one who battled for hours to give birth to a 10.5 pound Danny that day. This is the problem I have with celebrating myself on a day that I achieved nothing aside from crying, peeing, and pooping for the first time.

On the other hand, February 18 is a day I am legitimately proud of. That is the day I changed my life. That is the day I fixed myself. That is the day I improved myself. Sure I had done races before, but I have to admit that my first half marathon involved me being dragged, kicking and screaming, through the training plan(Thanks Ashley!). This was different. Nobody suggested that I do this. Nobody told me it was a good idea. Nobody else is responsible for the choice I made that day, and therefore I have decided that I will allow myself to celebrate Danny on February 18th from now on.

I'm calling it my new birthday. I don't need or want presents, but if you feel like you'd genuinely want to wish me a happy birthday if you knew what day it was, let's just pretend that it is now February 18th. Tell me congratulations on another year of being active, of being healthy, of being truly and fully ALIVE. If I have ever inspired you to do something that you might not have considered on your own, tell me about it today. If you have me to thank, either fully or partially, for the fact that you now run, cycle, swim, do races, or whatever it is you do...thank me today.

With the establishment of my new birthday, I'd like to now get the statistics out of the way. Since February 18th 2009, the day I started living, I have run 1200 miles(300 on trails), biked 2090 miles, and swam 40 miles. Completed: 4 half marathons, 2 marathons, 2 ultramarathons, 1 Olympic tri, 2 half Ironmans, 1 full Ironman, and countless smaller races in between.

I currently have several friends training for Ironman races. My brother has done 2 half marathons(one of them damn near beating my own PR), one Olympic tri, and is currently training for a 70.3. I have no doubt a full Ironman is in his very near future. My father is registered and training for his first half marathon, which I plan to run with him. And then there are the countless unwitting friends who I have conned into coming trail running or cycling with me. Sorry guys, but this is athletic evangelism, and I intend to convert all of you.

So.....happy birthday to me...it's good to be alive!