Hello friends!
And welcome to my journey toward self-discovery and actualization through the three-in-one discipline of triathlon. I'm so glad you decided to join me...
STOP!
No, seriously, this isn't going to be one of those type blogs... I am training for Ironman number two (and possibly number three) this year and I'm going to write down training stuff here. I'll think of it as an electronic training journal for me, and if someone else can get use of it, great... If not, so be it...
A little about me:
I take my training seriously, but, as you'll see because of the remarkable kind of non-athlete that I am, not too seriously...
I played soccer throughout high school/college which meant that I ran on and off just enough to convince my coaches that their Goalkeeper was in shape... It didn't take much...
In 2001 I took a break from college soccer and, in the midst of a Mormon mission, a companion of mine introduced me to triathlon. He talked about it incessantly. His mother sent him Triathlete Magazine articles and he would read them. On the toilet. Aloud.
I'm not even kidding...
He was from Phoenix and couldn't stop talking about a very, very special bike: a Softride. Those who aren't new to the sport will recognize the Softride as a flash-in-the-pan gimmick bike that was supposed to simulate riding on air with the absence of a downtube. His enthusiasm with the sport in general was like Contagion, and I got infected, like, SO HARD.
The Softride experiment (thankfully) didn't last very long; my newly-found enthusiasm (likewise thankfully) did.
I did my first triathlon in 2004 - I signed up for an off-road tri set in my beloved South Carolina forrest complete with 500 meter lake swim, 12 mile mountain bike and trail run. Cake right?
I was training for the Marine Corps Marathon at the time. I had once completed a mile swim when I was coerced into Boy Scout camp one summer by an overzealous mother and the promise of a new Optimus Prime fully-functioning tractor-trailer transformer (I was young, a nerd, and yes, she followed through.) I owned a Diamondback mountain bike that would for sure take me 12 miles...
All the pieces were in place...
I stepped to the starting line in March with 200 wetsuit-donned athletes, and I knew instantly that I was screwed.
Why are they wearing wet suits?
Why do they look like Greek Gods?
How am I training for a marathon and suddenly developing a case of body dysmorphic disorder?
I found one person in my wave that I wasn't intimidated by: 50-60 years old, bushy grey beard, around 300 pounds...
I felt a little better after that...
But that was a mistake...
With my uninspired non-confidence I jumped into the lake with everyone else and took off toward the first buoy.
At least I thought I took off...
No, I was sure I took off...
I took off, right...?
Wait, no... It's hard to take off when your body isn't working... I was frozen. Solid. And gasping for breath... I reached out for a canoe when I saw one and held on for what felt like an eternity, until I felt I had to either keep going or die...
It was at that point that I fell in love with triathlon... Well, thinking back on it, maybe, it was that point... In that actual moment all my Mormon-trained brain could think was a rotating mind palette of swear words and prayers...
In that first 50 meters, nothing I had ever done before -- not college soccer, not Olympic development programs, not marathon training, not even ultra-anxiety-inducing adolescent dating -- had challenged me physically and mentally like that before...
I decided to keep going, canoe to kayak to kayak to canoe... Stopping at each to catch my breath and make sure I wasn't dead...
I eventually finished and -- panting and frozen -- made it to the transition area in time to see my confidence-inspiring bearded amigo happily pedaling away out of T1...
I never saw him again, struggled similarly through hills on the mountain bike and then slugged through the run to come in dead last.
Of all the men.
And the women.
I didn't know it then, but I had caught the bug. Just like immediately after my first Ironman, I swore I would never do this again. No way was I going to subject myself to the pain and humiliation of all that again... Nope, never again...
Never... EVER again...
But I did it again...
I started slowly, building up smaller races as well as marathons and half marathons, until finally I decided to try a 70.3 in 2009. I finished that, and was happy with my achievement until I did another one in 2010... It had never entered my mind to try an Ironman. I had done marathons and those were enough, plus a 70.3 was fine for me...
But then in November 2010 I found myself sitting with my family, shooing them away while I hit "refresh" on my laptop waiting for registration for Ironman Florida to open up.
I registered the second it was available, and with a 13:00:00 goal in hand, a year later I crossed the finish line...
In 14:58.24
And now I have some unfinished business to attend to...
I trained hard for Ironman Florida, but not smart enough...
On August 26 at 7:00 am I'll step to the starting line of Ironman Louisville and twelve hours later will have completed Ironman number two...
Without a Softride, but with a wetsuit.
