Did you catch it? That's right, I said "wife and I." She caught the bug too. It didn't take long after I started "training," for the wife's intrigue and competitive spirit to catch fire too. It probably had something to do with my chiseled, sweat soaked, ripped physic I obtained after but a week of training. (Apparently consistent exercise can turn you into a Greek god in your own head regardless of what the mirror or anybody else might say). "I guess if your really serious, I'll train with you" she told me. Granted, she waited a couple of weeks watching me struggle trying to stay afloat and blasting around the gravel roads on my steel tank of a mountain bike just to make sure I was serious, but we were both in this new journey together. (She claims she was onboard 30 seconds from my initial proclamation but I remember it being at least a couple of weeks. Since I'm telling the story, it was a couple of weeks and due primarily to her seeing my sheer awesomeness in action.) On a side note - get your significant other to join the journey with you. It might be way more expensive having to buy two of everything, but it's a lot harder for her to complain about spending the money on a new "hobby" when you are buying her the exact same thing.
It was an interesting scene rolling into the local bike shop to pick up our race packets. Those ever present triathlon nerds were there prancing around in their compression socks and matching spandex race kits with rocket ships strapped to the top of their Volvo's; Normal joe's and college kids with their beat up ten-speeds and mountain bikes somehow magically crammed into the rear of their Pontiac Grand Prix's and pick up trucks; Yuppies with their tricked out bikes and luxury SUV's decorated with triathlon stickers and personalized license plates; Legit triathletes with their focused eyes, chiseled facial features and 10 year old race tees; and older folks just there doing what could well be their 100th triathlon. Fast, slow, old, young, fat, skinny, veterans and newbies; just like at Hy-Vee, apparently anybody could do this.
"Dork, dork, dork ... I'm gonna beat you, gonna beat you, you and you." "Time to show these triathlon nerds how real athletes race" I said under my breath as I breezed through the packet pick up line. My confident swagger came to an abrupt halt when my eye caught a glimpse of a flip chart on an easel in the corner. "Water temp: 54 degrees" it said. "WHAT THE?!" "Now someone please tell me how the hell this is going to work" I blurted, apparently out loud. I had done the open water swim clinic which was cold, but 54 degrees - that is flat out ridiculous even for Iowa in May. "Oh we are going to be watching it over night, and if it doesn't warm up, we will shorten or cancel the swim if it gets much colder" said the chipper, bright shirt clad, clearly not planning on jumping in that freezing ass water, volunteer.
While certainly not a fan of freezing water, I was offended for some reason. I mean seriously. I signed up for a TRI-athlon not a DU-athlon. Anything less than the three legs was unacceptable. I didn't drown myself all winter to not get to show my stuff when it mattered. I had a wetsuit - I was good to go. I also signed up to do the Olympic distance not the Sprint, because well, lets face it, I was that awesome. I knew swimming a 400 or 750 would be a piece of cake so why start with that? i wanted the challenge. I wanted the entire thing damn it. Don't ruin my first of many shining moments here Mother Nature!
Water temperature and race shortening complaints were the topic of conversation as we drove to the cabin we rented at the State Park for the weekend. The cabin turned out to be the ONLY veteran move we made that weekend. It was right on the lake where the race was being held and only a 5 minute walk from transition. This was going to be epic! "Hey look, you can see the buoys for the swim." Gulp, frog-in-throat, pooper pucker, little bit of tinkle in the britches, and overwhelming sense of self-doubt. "That's a long ways!" "Is that course regulation?" "You really think that's a mile?" "Maybe they just throw the buoy's out willy nilly and re-adjust them in the morning." Maybe this wasn't quite such a brilliant idea after all. "You are awesome, trust your training" I told myself. "This will be a piece of cake for a stud like you." The self-talk was already starting.
Water temperature, race shortening and now race strategy dominated the evening's conversation as we packed transition bags, set out the morning's "nutrition" and generally pumped ourselves up for the impending adventure. Rock the swim, rock the bike, and rock the run was my detailed, well-thought out race plan. After all, I trained my butt off, this can't be all that difficult. Race strategy clearly visualized and processed, I proceeded to follow the directions contained in the race bag and affixed my race numbers to my helmet and bike just like I was a seasoned pro. Unfortunately, this race didn't have the cool tri-tats to put on the night before so I waited until morning to bust out the Sharpie. Race uniform consisting of my awesome board shorts laid out, bike tires pumped, chain cleaned and greased, GU packets taped to the frame, water bottles securely fastened, and transition bag packed. Oh yeah, I was ready to take the triathlon world by storm.
Visions of grandeur danced in my head as I attempted to get a little sleep that night. "Clearly I am destined for triathlon greatness" I thought. "Certainly, nobody's going to know I'm a newbie." Ah yes, nobody will know I'm a newbie....
While certainly not a fan of freezing water, I was offended for some reason. I mean seriously. I signed up for a TRI-athlon not a DU-athlon. Anything less than the three legs was unacceptable. I didn't drown myself all winter to not get to show my stuff when it mattered. I had a wetsuit - I was good to go. I also signed up to do the Olympic distance not the Sprint, because well, lets face it, I was that awesome. I knew swimming a 400 or 750 would be a piece of cake so why start with that? i wanted the challenge. I wanted the entire thing damn it. Don't ruin my first of many shining moments here Mother Nature!
Water temperature and race shortening complaints were the topic of conversation as we drove to the cabin we rented at the State Park for the weekend. The cabin turned out to be the ONLY veteran move we made that weekend. It was right on the lake where the race was being held and only a 5 minute walk from transition. This was going to be epic! "Hey look, you can see the buoys for the swim." Gulp, frog-in-throat, pooper pucker, little bit of tinkle in the britches, and overwhelming sense of self-doubt. "That's a long ways!" "Is that course regulation?" "You really think that's a mile?" "Maybe they just throw the buoy's out willy nilly and re-adjust them in the morning." Maybe this wasn't quite such a brilliant idea after all. "You are awesome, trust your training" I told myself. "This will be a piece of cake for a stud like you." The self-talk was already starting.
Water temperature, race shortening and now race strategy dominated the evening's conversation as we packed transition bags, set out the morning's "nutrition" and generally pumped ourselves up for the impending adventure. Rock the swim, rock the bike, and rock the run was my detailed, well-thought out race plan. After all, I trained my butt off, this can't be all that difficult. Race strategy clearly visualized and processed, I proceeded to follow the directions contained in the race bag and affixed my race numbers to my helmet and bike just like I was a seasoned pro. Unfortunately, this race didn't have the cool tri-tats to put on the night before so I waited until morning to bust out the Sharpie. Race uniform consisting of my awesome board shorts laid out, bike tires pumped, chain cleaned and greased, GU packets taped to the frame, water bottles securely fastened, and transition bag packed. Oh yeah, I was ready to take the triathlon world by storm.
Visions of grandeur danced in my head as I attempted to get a little sleep that night. "Clearly I am destined for triathlon greatness" I thought. "Certainly, nobody's going to know I'm a newbie." Ah yes, nobody will know I'm a newbie....
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