This is Me
Friday, June 29, 2007
With a few exceptions (the whole "getting up before dairy farmers" bit, for one), wow, Jim Taylor, Ph.D. pegged me spot-on. Glad it's not just me, apparently.
An Ironman in the MakingNewbie Lesson No. 1: Ironman Will Consume Your Life
by Jim Taylor, Ph.D.
Doing an Ironman is not a part-time endeavor. The race will be, for the six to nine months that you train for it, the guiding force in your life. You will spend many hours each week training. And you will spend even more hours each week thinking, dreaming, talking, reading, and surfing the Internet in pursuit of everything Ironman. Ironman will consume you.
Your life will revolve around training, sleeping (going to bed by 9pm and getting up before dairy farmers and West Coast stockbrokers), food (you can and want to eat everything in sight), and drink (I currently have seven forms of liquid in my fridge.) Your social life will revolve around Masters swims, Saturday rides, and Sunday runs. If you are married, have children, or have friends who are not triathletes, heaven help them! (Hint: apologize in advance for your neglect and ask for their patience.)
Your conversations will revolve around your past triathlon experiences, your training program, your race goals, gathering training and racing tips from experienced Ironman finishers and tri mags, and figuring out which of the tips you should accept. You will be consumed by equipment and technology. You will ask essential life questions, such as “Will an aero seat post make me faster?”…”700c or 650c?”, and “What is your favorite energy bar?”
You will obsess about the minutiae of triathlon. You will buy videos on swim technique. You will call the top pros by their nicknames – “Hey Macca! Walto!” You will read the latest research on Ironman nutrition. You will look forward to going to your local tri-store, hoping there is something you forgot to buy that you absolutely must have. You will make lists of what you will need in your Ironman, what you will put in each transition and special-needs bag, and what you will have to do the day before and the day of the race.
You will live for your daily workouts. You will have trouble falling asleep because you can't wait to get up the next day and train. You will compulsively record every detail of your training program in your computer: distance, time, intensity, heart rate, splits, strokes per length, miles per hour, minutes per mile. You will track your progress. You will at first wonder how a person can enjoy swimming 100 laps in a 21.88 yard pool and riding a bike for more than seven hours and then come to understand how. You will revel in completing your first two-mile swim, 100-mile ride, and 20-mile run. You will add “brick” to your vocabulary and use it proudly. You will extrapolate your training and shorter race times to your Ironman (bad idea!) You will add up your weekly volume every Sunday and gush with pride as you approach 20 hours.
You will develop a deep and abiding hatred of water bottles. You will have at least 10 water bottles at some point in a never-ending cycle of Ironman life; on your bike, in the sink soaking with soapy water, in the dish rack drying, or taking up an entire counter in your kitchen poised and ready to return to your bike.
You will arrive late to work, take long lunch breaks, and leave early. You will fall asleep at your desk. You will pray that you have a forgiving boss or be thankful that you are your own boss.
Your body will look different – leaner, more muscular, more defined. You will walk differently – a new spring in your step, a bit of swagger in your gait. You will feel different – energized, yet tired; relaxed, yet jazzed. You will think differently, more confident, determined, and focused. After never experiencing the runner’s high, you will get the “tri-high” regularly. You will begin to think that training is better than sex.
You will experience more emotional highs and lows in one day than you usually feel in a week. You will feel excitement, frustration, hope, anger, despair, doubt, awe, sadness, and inspiration. You will question the meaning of your life and why you are doing an Ironman – you will come up with different answers every time. You will dream of qualifying for Kona, even if the only chance you have is to win the lottery. You will smile with joy at the thought of being an Ironman and cringe at the thought of not finishing.
After the race, you will feel like you are about ready to explode with pride. You won't want to take off your finisher’s medal. You will look forward to wearing all of that over-priced, yet worth-every-cent Ironman clothing that you bought at the expo. You will have a new appreciation for race volunteers. You will feel special, like you've joined an exclusive club.
You will say, “I am an Ironman.”
Posted by Erin 8:18 AM
1 Comment:
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- Collin Kromke said...
7/01/2007 8:55 PMThis post is like poetry. Very inspirational.
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