Limbo
1. often Limbo Roman Catholic Church The abode of
unbaptized but innocent or righteous souls, as those of infants or virtuous
individuals who lived before the coming of Christ.
2. A region or condition of oblivion or neglect: Management kept her promotion in limbo for
months.
3. A state or place of confinement.
4. An intermediate place or state.
Word History: Our use of the word limbo to refer to
states of oblivion, confinement, or transition is derived from the theological
sense of Limbo as a place where souls remain that cannot enter heaven,
for example, unbaptized infants. Limbo
in Roman Catholic theology is located on the border of Hell, which explains
the name chosen for it. The Latin word limbus, having meanings such as
"an ornamental border to a fringe"
and "a band or girdle," was chosen by Christian theologians of the
Middle Ages to denote this border region. English borrowed the word limbus
directly, but the form that caught on in English, limbo, first recorded
in a work composed around 1378, is from the ablative form of limbus, the
form that would be used in expressions such as in limb
, "in Limbo."
I will be the first to tell you I am not a Godly
man. For better or worse, I have made my
own peace with the modern religious ways. I am not trying to enter into a theological
discussion here. We all have our own
believe systems and I respect yours and I ask that you respect mine. I do honestly believe that I am truly in
Limbo. I am having a crisis not of faith, but in my mind. There are two warring parties in my
head. On one side there is the old Billy
b, the one rooted in his Midwestern up bringing that truly believes, I have no
discipline, that I am lazy, and I am just making excuses why I eat. Then there is the other Billy b, the on that
says “no, no, no” you have an issue, either an eating disorder or an
addiction. Not matter what it is you
can’t stop the eating. I like it to the
madness which ascended over the Gunslinger in The Wastelands when his mind
began to split into two factions over the Boy Jake. As written by the Master “At the edge of the campsite, Roland stood
beyond the glow of the fire and listened as the voices of madness rose once
more in his aching, confused mind. There
was a boy. There was no boy. Was. Wasn’t – He closed his eyes, cupped his
aching forehead in one cold hand, and wondered how long it would be until he
simply snapped like an overwound bowstring.”
Every waking hour, of my life since Saturday the 19th
of October 2013 my mind has fought back and forth over this. Am I descending myself into madness? Can one really fall into madness when one is
already mad? Food for thought, but not
why we are here today.
We are here to discuss Limbo. My definition of what it
means to be in Limbo. Which is odd
because I am started off with the a rant on not being a godly man when all I
really wanted to say is I think how the Roman Catholic’s defined Limbo hits
pretty close to the state I feel I have been in over the last 10 days. Limbo is on the border of Hell and well Hell
is bad. So limbo is bad.
But why is it bad.
Other than being stuck in a place you really don’t want to be. How can I articulate? I am terrified. I see where I want to go. I just don’t know how I am going to get
there. I am starting to wonder if I can
get there on my own.
To me being fat and losing weight was going to be this
romantic story. Everyone loves a great
weight loss story. I mean look at the
Biggest Loser and the like. They do
great! I was going to one day just wake
up. Meet that women of my dreams, write
the great American novel, and make the decision to lose weight. I would do it. I would impress everyone along the way. I would be featured as being the 400 lbs. man
who went from Sofa to Iron Man. Yes, I
had Iron dreams. Show me a triathlon who
didn’t ever once even for one moment in time, stop to dream big about the
greatest of all endurance events. To have
the chance to have the dot m tattooed on your calve. I
dreamed and I dreamed big. I am a
dreamer that is what I do. I dream.
See the story was perfect. There
she was watching the Iron Man world championships. Yes, she, there is always a she. She might change from time to time, but there
is always a she. Don’t ask me why she would
be watching the IM world Championship but she was and the announcers would do one
of those feel good stories about one of the athletes that had made it into the
Kona race. That athlete would be none
other than the Kid. The story would be
simple. At one point he was too fat to
comfortably fit into his car, but today, he is chasing greatness at the most
famous of all triathlons. They would
show picture of when I was a fatty and when I would hobble over the finish
line. Then they would cut to a picture
of me coming out of the water svelte and cat like quick. Of course in proper race fashion I would be
sporting mutton chops and either the Abe Lincoln or a nice Van Dyke. I mean fatty or svelte after all a man must
race with the proper facial hair, it is just the decent thing to do. I would finish. Not win, not even place, Hell I would probably
be the last in my age group but it wouldn’t matter. I would finish the most
grueling race of them all. The dream
would be completed. She would wonder who
I was now, and what had changed, how I’d changed. Be so impressed that I had done it. I had chased Iron and won.
That was the dream.
To some extent it still is. However, I don’t think the story is as
beautiful as I once thought it would be.
It could be, but I am 99.9% sure that when I lose 60 pounds, I will have
gastric bypass and the beauty will somehow be lost. Perhaps at that point my Iron dreams will go
as well. I just don’t know because I don’t know this new story ends.
I think we are off track.
We aren’t here to talk about the dream, or how the dream is supposed to
play out. We are
here to talk about Limbo and as always I have somehow gone way off the tracks. I
don’t know maybe I think you need to partially understand where I want to
go. To somehow try and understand the
madness in which I live my life.
To me Limbo is terrifying state and I want to try and
describe that. I just thought the actual
definition was cool and we have gotten so far off course starting to wonder
what the point of this rant was.
Here is Limbo to me… Remember is a border on hell and the
fringe…
I have survived at this point countless open water
swims. I have swum in the Pacific Ocean
9 times during an actual triathlon event.
That is roughly at least 4 to 5 miles of open water swimming. If we know one thing about the kid, we know
that his swimming is his rock. His strength. His gift for gliding in the water might be
greater than even his ability to make shit up and lie through his teeth and his
gift for tale spinning on the page.
Look, we aint talking grammar here people. I couldn’t pass first grade grammar
or spelling. I am terrible at both, but
you have to admit, when you read Billy b, he grabs you, you want to read
more. You like his gift of gab. The Kid, The Writer, The Tale Spinner, Story
Teller whatever you want to call me, has a certain amount of talent. Will I ever be published probably not? Will I ever make money writing most certainly
not, but I love to write. People like to
read. I do have a small cult
following. Even if it is only Dorothy
(if she is bored), Rachel (b/c she has not choice), Jill and the people who
used to report to me at Callidus.
However, they are a following.
However, the point is I swim better than I write. I swim strong. 5,000 M in two days and three hours. That is pretty fucking good. I am no Michael Phelps or anything, but I am
a Black Fish. I was telling Amy this the other day, I
actually feel more at home in the water than on land. I am starting to believe the pool is my
natural habitat. Yes, I am saying Billy
b is indigenous to water.
However, as strong as I am in the water, notice I say one
thing and one thing only about these open water Pacific Ocean swims, is that I
survive them. They are terrifying for
me. Not because I don’t think I can do
the distance. No, no, no. However because as a dreamer. I tend to believe in a little in the
supernatural, occult, and fringe.
Therefore, I think it is very possible in a universe or more properly
universes that are infinite that the likely hood that there are things such as
Aliens, Ghosts, Unicorns and dragons could actually exist. If one believes there is a likely hood these
mythological entities can exist, then can’t one believe that Sharks really
exist? Is it not possible that in the
vast oceans of this world and the next one over that there possibly be a man
eating fish? I mean like Nessy and Big Feet’s
it is on the outer rim of possibilities, RIGHT?
So, in truth, I am terrified that when I am swimming in
the Pacific Ocean, that one of these fantastical creatures (Shark, not Big
Feet) is going to get me. Seriously, go
to my face book page; look at me in a wet suite. Then go to Pear 39 and look at the Sea Lions. We look an awful lot alike. However, I might have a little bulge on
them. So if these sharks eat these Lions
of the sea, then couldn’t they mistake me for one and get me? I am big, I am juicy, and well, perhaps the
strongest swimmer in the pack, I am slowest.
I am sure these sharks sea pack of neoprene men swimming by they ain’t
going to go after the smallest one and fast one. No, they are going after the slow one. It’s just common sense. So, yes, I have an irrational fear of being
eaten by a mythical creature known as the shark. I am convinced they will creep up on me from
the deep and take a big as bite out of me and pull me down into the
depths. Fear is fear. Once it has
wiggled into your mind, it is very hard to get out of the mind. So, no, I don’t fear kelp. I don’t fear drowning. I don’t fear freezing b/c gods know swimming
along the California coast is fucking cold.
No I fear, being eating by a shark.
That is why in some circles they actually call me shark bait and think
it is funny. It isn’t.
I tell you this because I know how these creatures of
myth work. I know if and win I was a
shark, when, I would attack the slow seal.
When I would make my move on it and capture my prize. I would do it when the creature was in Limbo.
Ah, see it all comes back to the brink
of hell or the fringe.
Let me tell you where my true limbo is in these
swims. Every tri I have swum in did follow
this pattern:
·
Swim out to a buoy.
·
Hand a Left at said buoy, and swim to
the other buoy and
·
Hang another left and head for
shore.
If you are still reading at this point, then you know I
have an irrational mind. If you know me,
you know I have an irrational mind. You
know that whatever goes on in the rat trap between my ears and above my neck
and chins is not rational. It is like
fucking Oz or the 7 kingdoms. Some of it
is beautiful and downright magical.
However, a lot of it is terrifying and dark and right now the dark is
brighter than the light.
Also, we are talking about fear here, irrational,
uncontrolled fear. Fear is fear and by
definition it doesn’t have to make sense.
So, I have somehow in my demented little mind convinced myself of the
following: The shark won’t get me on the
way to the first buoy, that is safe, I am ok there. So on the way out we are ok. Also, the shark won’t get me on the way in
from the 2nd buoy. No, no,
no. That is safe too. Obviously these creates are myth are smarter
than dragons and everyone is smarter than Big Feet’s. No, he will get me when I am the most
uncomfortable and when I have the most fear.
He will get me when I am in the vast wasteland that can only be known to
this swimmer of Tri’s as Limbo. The very
border of hell itself, the swim between point A and B, buoy to buoy, the
journey in and out is safe, but the journey across is not.
I have no idea how in words to describe the terror I feel
when I am crossing through Limbo. I just
can’t do it. I am physically unable to
convey the fear. However, I am convinced
when and if it happens, it will happen here, in no man’s land, in my Limbo.
One could make many a theory on this… why this is the
sport it would happen. Inevitably, this
is where the pack thins. I swear every
try I have swam in, it’s like a party at the fucking buoy. Grown men turn into fucking morons and forget
how swim. It’s like we are fly’s and the
buoy itself is a giant fly trap. People
just swim right into the damn thing. Lots
of people stop to catch some breath.
Others I don’t know stop to pee.
I don’t know. It is a complete
and total fuck-a-roo at the first buoy.
So the pack thins.
So as you are crossing into Limbo, you are usually swimming alone. Or you sure feel like it. So alone and looking like sea lion. Aren’t we just asking for the shark to come
and get us?
You’re tired. I am
always tired at the first buoy. It could
be the shock of being in freezing water and your body has not quite adjusted
yet. I don’t know. It’s the yin and the yang of it I guess.
It is the only time you are swimming against the natural
flow of the water. Normally, no matter
what the conditions are the water is going in and out, and you are trying to go
in and out with it. Not in Limbo. You are swimming completely across
current. So not only are you normally
alone, tired, and scared. You are also
being pushed back and forth, forth and back.
Like you’re trying to swim in a giant hammock, and you’re looking for
the next buoy because you want to get out Limbo so bad, because you are stupid
you should have never done this stupid fucking race. You know in your heart the shark is coming
for you. It is only a matter of time
before he gets you. You start to panic, because
all the sudden your wet suite is taking on more water than it should. You feel like you are going to drown. You’re a terrible swimmer, what are you doing
out here. You can’t do it you won’t do
it. It is over and it ends with sharp
teeth and drowning. Is there really a
worst way to go then drowning?
The by some chance you are at the 2nd
Buoy. You are turning for home. You are out of Limbo for now. Because guess what if you are doing the PG
Oly, you got to do this fucking twice.
So 9 Tri’s but been in Limbo at least 12 times. FML.
However, you some how you find the strength and do it again and you face
Limbo head on. God damn it you do it because
it is what you do, you are the Billy b, the Kid, the Blackfish. So, you walk in the darkness one more time,
and you make it back to shore. However,
it is terrifying.
Why is any of this relevant?
Why are we even talking about Limbo? We are talking about Limbo because that is
where I am today. I am on the border of
myself induced hell. I am a man with a
divided mind. There is a problem with you
eating; there is no problem with your eating.
I realize that right now I am playing for keeps.
I realize that what comes out of this Limbo is not a safe
swim back to shore. No, no, no. What comes out of this none stop rocking of
the hammock is something far more than anything I have ever had to face?
I realize that in this Limbo the choice so much bigger
because this swim to shore if I choose to swim to shore is the swim for my
life. It doesn’t really matter what you
call my unhealthy relationship with food.
Addiction, disorder, no discipline, it is all moot. The only thing that matters is if I decide to
turn and swim to shore. The only thing that matters is for the first time in 37
year and 361 days if I am finally willing to admit, I can’t do this my way and
I can’t do this alone. So, this crisis
in my mind, this, this cross into and out of Limbo, the choices I do or don’t
make will determine the rest of my life.
I am playing for keeps and I shall finish this game.
I need to make choices on work, higher powers, the right
step for me and no one can tell me what to do.
I have to grow up and be a big boy and make the decisions myself. I have to get busy living or get busy
dying. It is really that simple. Here as we close in on my 38th birthday,
I am must make want to come out of this Limbo, I have created for myself. I must walk alone and find out really what am
I made of. Hero or goat… I have always thought Hero.
I don’t know what my next step is. I really don’t, but I know this. I am coming out of Limbo. I am going to live the life I was born to
live and become the man I was born to be.
I choose life. I
choose to conquer a divided mind. I choose
that I won’t let Limbo have me. I won’t
be the shark bait. However, words are
easy and we have said it all before, I know.
But I want to believe. I choose
to believe. Life is risk. Life is worth taking risks. It is time for me to deal with the
demons. It is time for me to dance with
dragons and sharks, and everything in between.
It is time to put Limbo behind us!
