"Trilifealete" (tri-life-alete) - "An age-group endurance athlete who is equally defined by familial and/or employment responsibilities."
It is 5:00 a.m., your alarm clock is blasting its annoying anthem as you cuss out loud trying to figure out the simple math puzzle you voluntarily asked for in order to turn it off, all so that it would really wake up this morning. The Spouse is snoring, The Kids are snoring (one of them in your bed with his damn toes in your nose all night), The Dog is snoring louder than anyone else in the house. The sun is not yet up. Hell, roosters are not even up yet but you my friend are awake (sort of) because this is the only time you will be able to get your workout in today.
You would love to workout after work when the sun is out and weather is nice, but alas, your after-work schedule includes - 5:30 p.m. baseball game for The Oldest; 6:30 p.m. soccer practice for The Youngest; dinner to cook; yard to mow; dog to walk; a few random work emails to reply to that can't wait until tomorrow; laundry to fold and put away; house to pick up (meh this can probably wait); days happenings to catch up on with The Spouse; Kids to herd into bed; and a 9:30 p.m. bedtime for you unless of course you have a second workout for the day that you have to squeeze in there somewhere.
You do some simple math, trying like hell to figure out a way to push snooze and sneak nine more precious minutes of fake sleep out of your night. Lets see, quick piece of toast and cup of coffee - 10 minutes safe bet; 13 minutes from my door to pool; workout says only 50 minutes which really means an 1:10:00 because it was written for some freak athlete that you are certainly not; 20-30 minutes to shower and get presentable for work; protein shake packed so no need to account for post-workout breakfast; 8:00 a.m. work meeting that you should probably prepare for since you didn't do it yesterday afternoon because you hustled out the door for the group workout instead; you could cut the workout short but that is not even a consideration because you only have 209 days left until your A Race. Conclusion - Damn it! No snooze for you! Go brush your damn teeth because you have stuff to do!
The workout, YOUR workout is not some 45 minute preppy-ass class at an overpriced gym surrounded by yuppies in matching outfits. Nope, its a do-it-by-your-damn-self workout that probably includes staring at a black line at the bottom of a cold pool assisted by more toys than a frustrated housewife; an hour-and-a-half in your basement on your pedal bike that you spent more than you did on your first car; or a lonely hour run with just you and a sidewalk, dodging ice booby traps and grumpy neighborhood dogs. You didn't download this workout for free from the internet either. You pay a coach twice what you pay in gym memberships a month to plan and track your progress and write up this sadistic crap just to make sure you are ready when the gun finally goes off. All of this you KNOW is money well spent.
Once your motor is going, you crank out the workout with images of greatness pulsing through your brain. Your efforts are rewarded with a rush of endorphin's comparable to what a drug addict experiences with each fix. Unlike drugs though, each post-workout high is actually better and more fulfilling than the one before it. This leads you to call what most people call insane, "fun." With images of your next inevitable personal record blurring your vision, you gulp down your organic, GMO free, gluten free, muscle rebuilding, turbo charging meal replacement and away you go on another day in the life of a Trilifealete.
That's right, you read that right, I didn't forget to spell check that - "Trilifealete" (tri-life-alete) - "An age group endurance athlete who is equally defined by familial and/or employment responsibilities." Parent, spouse, athlete - Trilifealete. Son/daughter, sibling, athlete - Trilifealete. Parent, entrepreneur, athlete - Trilifealete. Substitute in whatever describes you, but the term "Trilifealete" truly sums up the life of an age group endurance athlete. You don't get to ensure optimum hours of sleep every day. You don't get to sit around with your legs in some air compression contraption after each workout. Your "recovery" days could probably qualify as an actual workout for some people. You don't care though. You live for this stuff and thrive on the never-ending whirlwind of professional and personal life activity, all while training your body to swim, bike and run in a single day, distances that "ordinary folk" don't even do in a week.
Your passion and your lifestyle allows others to make a living feeding, catering to and capitalizing on your obsession. Equipment, more equipment, coaching, race entries, travel, lodging, specialized travel and lodging, nutrition, the list goes on and on. An entire thriving industry has been built on your efforts. Triathlon Business International estimates that the consumer triathlon market in the United States is a 2.8 BILLION dollar industry. The value of us Trilifealetes is best demonstrated by the recent purchase of World Triathlon Corporation by Dilian Wanda Group for $650 Million. That doesn't happen if you don't exist. They don't make money on professionals. Hell professionals aren't professionals without us. It's the hundreds of thousands of Trilifealetes that spend their hard earned money chasing their next endorphin high that makes this world go round. So, this holiday season while you are Googling the latest and greatest gear to add to your Christmas list, STOP. Stop. Take a moment. Step back, give yourself a pat on the ass and soak in the fact that you are a Trilifealete. You make this world go round. Everyone in it owes you a ginormous "thank you." Without you, they don't exist.
After you take that moment, buy the hell out of that new gear, renew your coaching program, get your Trilifealete spouse that new VO2 analysis, sign up for your next big race. Let's be honest, they are necessities and our sport depends upon us! When you are done with that, march your ass to the basement, mount your trusty stead and work off that Thanksgiving gravy. Here's to the Trilifealetes!
PS: I'm trademarking the hell out of "Trilifealete" - all rights reserved Mediocre Age Grouper, 11/28/15 :)
