Had I not met Sarah, life would have been simpler. Running races are much more straightforward when you don’t use up all of your energy beforehand with a big swim and ride. If you haven’t already slurped up all of your glycogen stores dry before you start the run, it’s nice and relatively easy. But this crazy triathlete I married showed me how to make the simplest of sports much more challenging and much more painful than running is on its own. I knew Sarah was into triathlon while we were dating, so after discussing our respective sports for a while, we decided to do a trade. She had to do my favorite race, which also happens to be one of the best trail running races of all time, the Wasatch Steeplechase. For the uninformed, the Wasatch Steeplechase is truly amazing – a 17-mile run on winding single-track, along ridgelines with plenty of jagged rocks to scramble over. The race boasts cool people and great prizes. It’s not too big, not too expensive – it’s just way cool. I had done the race the previous year and I felt strongly that Sarah would have the best race experience ever, apart from those crazy multisport events she did. I was sure that deep down she would be converted to the one true sport – running on mountain trails.

My side of the trade was to run the Salem Spring Triathlon. I looked up Sprint triathlon run times and scoffed. Being a runner, I was certain I could blast away the competition, with their wimpy hiking pace 5k times. Being a mountain biker, I knew I was tougher than all of those roadie types. I wasn’t worried a bit that my last swim workout was 13 years previous to that time when I was a Boy Scout, treading water and inflating my blue jeans to earn my Lifesaving merit badge. Since I was no longer a scrawny 11-year old vainly attempting to keep his head above water and no jeans were involved, I knew I could destroy this triathlon.

Salem drew near and I dutifully worked out. I did a couple of mountain bike races, I got my cyclocross bike set up for road riding, and I even set a new personal best in the half marathon. And everyday I worked on swimming too, at least mentally. Although I knew my mental workouts weren’t as effective as actual workouts, I was certain that they would help. Unbeknownst to me at the time, mental swim workouts only help your mental swim racing, especially if no actual swim workouts occur. I new I would be alright, since I had a couple of tricks up my sleeve:

1- I could rely back on my Lifesaving merit badge experience
2- My friend, April, knew somebody who could get me a cool neoprene thing they call a wetsuit, which keeps you warm and makes you swim fast for free on race day.

As you can obviously see, this triathlon race didn’t have anything to do with pride. In my mind, it wasn’t even an issue of whether I could beat Sarah in a triathlon or not. Of course I could beat her. That was beside the point. Thus, I continued my training plan as outlined above.

Race day arrived and I got my bike set up, laid out my stuff, went for a little ride, helped some people out with their bike problems, put on my race face and went for a little jog. April showed up with my wetsuit and I was “good to go.” When I put on the piece of rubber workmanship, I noticed that it had some great built-in kneepads. Luckily, it wasn’t restrictive at all on my upper body because of the deep scoop-neck, and there weren’t too many rips in it. It was a little on the large side for me, but I thought I’d be just fine. Even if my Lifesaving merit badge skills failed me, I knew I could make up a few minutes on the bike and run and still beat Sarah. With several swim strokes up my sleeve, I’d be just fine, at least I thought that until shortly before the race began, then I started getting knots in my stomach and my smirk of running superiority faded.

The race began. Several hours later, it seemed, I got out of the water with some folks that were born before the Great Depression. My alternating freestyle, sidestroke, backstroke and the dead-mans float had not served me quite as well as they did in my mental workouts. And, the scoop-neck wetsuit turned out to be excellent as a parachute, but poor as a triathlete wetsuit. I think wearing jeans would have been more hydrodynamic.

Cruising on the bike felt good, except that I had vertigo from thrashing around in the water for so long. I got up to speed, passed a few people and started to feel good about myself again. Then, while still on my first lap, a couple of dudes zoomed past me on their second lap. “Oh,” I thought. I realized that I was getting whooped in this triathlon.

My run wasn’t nearly good enough to overcome my floundering experience in the Salem Pond. So when I crossed the finish line, Sarah was already there, looking fairly well rested. My pride wasn’t at all hurt. After all, this was her sport. I was certain she wouldn’t do well in the Wasatch Steeplechase, even if she was an excellent triathlete.

Several weeks later, I strut through the finish of the Steeplechase near the front. I’m loving it! I’m in my element. I sip my Gatorade gingerly, relax and chat with some friendly folks. I decide to get comfortable, since it will be a while until Sarah the triathlete comes through. Shockingly, I hardly got a few nibbles into a bagel when she crossed the finish line with a big smile on her face. She had way too good a time! “What are you doing here?” I said, and realized I needed to marry her.

One year and not quite enough training later, I found myself keeled over with stomach cramps in the last part of the marathon in the Quelle Challenge (an Iron distance race) in Roth, Germany. The swim and bike had again take their toll, but this time I at least did some actual swim training and had borrowed a much better wetsuit and bike. This race was also the result of a trade – a 50-mile trail run for Sarah and the Quelle Challenge for me. Luckily for me, our son Noah was on the way at the time, preventing Sarah from doing both races and sparing me additional damage to my pride. Sarah cheered me on and as I jogged with her to the finish, I realized that I was hooked on triathlon.

Karl and Sarah Jarvis live in Provo, Utah with their six month old son, Noah. Karl is a science teacher and Sarah, originally from Germany, is a homemaker. Karl is currently training for the Ogden Xterra and Sarah is training for the 2007 Ironman Germany.

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