As an overweight fourth grader I learned one important lesson from dodge ball class– keep moving or you’re going to get clobbered. Things have changed in the twenty years since those days of eating glue and wearing ‘husky’ jeans. Now I’m a grown man with a few children of my own but when I was doing my first triathlon this past weekend I had to dive deep into my mental rolodex and pull out that memory in order to survive- “keep moving or you’re going to get clobbered”.
–Let me assuage the fears of all those who have not ever competed in a triathlon, there are no bullies and rubber balls on the course. However there was an abundance of work nerves and even a hint of pain.
Prior to the start of the race everything was rosy. My fellow racers were kind and offered encouraging words to myself and other ‘newbies’. This helped a great deal in calming nerves and overcoming pre-race jitters. Finding the registration area and transition area were easy enough, and once all my equipment was placed and the start time began to approach, my pulse quickened.
I’ve never been much for swimming- preferring the doggy paddle to any other stroke- yet the buzz in the air and the adrenaline flowing through my goose bump covered body made this first leg seem to simply fly by! A few short minutes later it was out of the pool and into the transition area. Funny how simple tasks like putting on shoes can be so simple every morning at 8 AM as one gets ready to go to work, yet after a four minute swim the task rivals juggling chainsaws in difficulty. My advice for first timers: sit on the ground- it made a world of a difference for me.
The bike and the run are still a fuzzy blur. While I can’t recall too many details one re-occurring theme is very clear in my memory- how awesome the other athletes are. I say awesome not simply because they flew by me like a train would pass awestruck sheep in the field, but they were awesome because as they flew by me almost everyone shouted out words of encouragement. Here they are my competition, my opponents for lack of a better term, and yet they attempted to buoy me up and inspire me to continue. My hat is off to all who offer such encouragement during a race. I never would have expected this type of behavior but it was great. In fact, this single act is what is inspiring me to continue to train and compete. I want to help out a first-timer by offering words cheering them on just as others did for me. Of course in order to get to that point I’ll have to learn how to get my bike to go faster than 2 mph!
After what seemed like a week or so, the bike portion concluded and once again I found myself in the peaceful transition area. With the wonderful aroma of fresh flowers and the sun peaking over the mountains I thought ‘this is a great scene. I’d like to just sit here for a few days. Let’s just go ahead and call it good’. Then came the dodge ball imagery. There is no triumph in quitting. The crowds do not cheer for those who surrender. So I side stepped the rubber ball of fatigue and began to trot out to the running course.
By this time my legs were shot. I had trained for a few days prior to the race. I had swam the competition distance (mostly doggy paddle). I had biked the race distance. I had run the mileage. Never had I done them consecutively, and now I was paying the price. While my first 18 minute mile –only slightly exaggerating- may have looked great it felt horrible. The second was similar but had the pleasant surprise of volunteers handing out water. Not only did they provide much needed fluids but they also cheered on the racers and helped me once again dodge that speeding ball of fatigue and continue racing.
The end of the run –also my favorite part of the event- was especially exciting. While I only had a small group of friends and family at the event when I approached the finish area and the announcer read my name to the crowd- which is an amazing feeling and one that should inspire everyone to compete at least once- the entire audience cheered me home. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t the first racer across the line. I was a finisher. On that day I was a triathlete and they respected that. I was proud of what I had done. I then stood side by side with the other finishers and cheered on the racers who crossed the finish line after me.
I went into the event thinking it would be tough. I returned home that afternoon realizing that the sport was not tough. IT IS GRUELING! But it is also uplifting. For me it was an opportunity to meet new people, to push myself harder than I thought I could and to simply get outside and play. Some athletes go to win, some to compete, some simply to finish. I’m sure my goals will change as the weeks pass. But looking back I say ‘great job’ to everyone who was there and I hope to see you at the next event. I feel myself remembering that encouraging slogan I learned back in elementary school: “If at first you don’t succeed- Tri, Tri again”.
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