Triathlon - The First Explanation

So - let me explain this whole thing.

I decided to do a triathlon. Mostly I decided to do it because I was dating a girl who ruthlessly broke up with me and I needed some kind of distraction. But I also decided to do it because I was turning 30 (like when Harry met Sally - "and I'm going to be forty... someday!!!") in six months and I was worried about my ability to get through my birthday gracefully. It seemed to me that if I could finish a triathlon gracefully then 30 wouldn't present too many problems. So I signed up for the Irongirl in Maryland in August 2008. The problem was that once I signed up for the first one - and got through all the waffling and back-and-forths of ebbing and flowing courage - it seemed much easier to start thinking about doing another one. Which is - in hindsight - a little like the person who strikes it lucky at poker and then against all the advice of his friends, can't quite bring himself to cash in his chips and give it up. Before I knew it, I had wantonly signed up for another triathlon in September in Washington, DC.

I guess in some ways triathlons are like kittens. If you're going to go through all the drama of getting one and keeping it from chewing through all the electrical cords in your house - you might as well get two. The problem is that, unlike kittens, neither of these races confine themselves to your house and both of them grow up from a nice, furry idea into a huge, menancing triple-threat blend of run-bike-swim in 90 degree summer heat and humidity.

Luckily, aside from considerations of pride, I'm way too cheap to throw in the towel on $300 bucks worth of application fees - no matter how terrified I am. The fourth threat - public humilation - is probably enough on it's own to get me through the first three.

Also, there is some other deeper motivational prodding going on that has to be explained - once and earnestly - before we go on.

I will indulge briefly. Skip this section if you have a delicate constitution.

First of all there are two people my life, my younger sister and a very good friend of mine, who are both graced with the kind of inner strength and detirmination that allow them not only to get up much earlier than anyone else I know, but get more done in less time - with a quiet and and unquestioned strength of character and purpose - that is a personal inspiration to me even from my cushy arm chair. I really think that the world keeps moving because people like these two get up every day and never for a single second does it occur to them not to give their very best effort at everything that they do. Both of them are excellent athletes, not only because of their natural talent, but also because every morning they get up and they practice - rain, sun, snow and ice not withstanding.

Second of all, about three years ago, I was flipping channels and landed on the ESPN, which happened to be streaming live coverage of the Ironman - not just *an* Ironman, but *The* Ironman, in Kona, Hawaii. The announcer was talking about a particular racer - a woman - and the television briefly flipped back through the pictures - miles swimming in the ocean, 112 miles on the bike - you could see the heat waves glistening off the road, and finally 26.2 miles running back to the finish line. The woman had had a great race so far - poised to break records. I was captivated watching her run - so steady, so fast and you could feel that she could keep running like that forever. Then with less than a mile to go, something happened - the heat, or dehydration or just the intensity of the race - she broke her pace and slowed down, then slower still, then broke into a walk, weaving slightly. And then finally with the finish line in sight - she fell. The crowds at the edge of the road surged forward, but no one wanted to touch her - the announcer kept saying that if she received medical attention she would be disqualified. As I sat there, absolutely glued to the screen, the woman waved off the crowds poised to help - you could tell she was sick, dizzy and disorientated. But the finish line was right there - you could see the banners waving in the distance and everyone there watching her had this look on their face - this intensity - asif by concentrating they could will her the strength to finish. And she looked at all of them and she looked at the finish line and she pulled herself up and she started to crawl. Then slowly she pushed off her hands and got to her feet and stumbling, started to walk. Then she broke into a jog - and then a run. Fifteen seconds later she crossed the finish line. The crowd errupted. And I burst into tears.

For some reason that has been one of those moments that has stayed with me - something important that I unwittingly became a participant in. I had watched that race for 20 minutes. I had no idea who that woman was or what an Ironman was. I had no idea why it should matter so much - but I sat there in my living room thousands and thousands of miles away and I willed for her to get up and to finish that race. Everyone watching - on television or in person, could see that her body had stopped. It was only her mind that made her get up. And for that reason, being accidentally dragged into that woman's own defining moment - to give up or to go on - that I began to understand the kind of people who do triathlons and the kind of mental strength and detirmination it takes to finish them. Whether you're swimming 300 meters or two and half miles - whether you bike 12 miles or 112 - I think these races show you - and maybe teach you - how far you can be pushed and how strong you really are.

Of course, I say that having never run a triathlon. But this sense - this suspicion that maybe that's what it's about, is what drove me to sign up. That woman could have been anyone. If it comes to that test - in any situation - how would I do?

I've been knocking around this planet getting into trouble for almost thirty years and I think I want to know - having led a life of filled with good luck, narrow escapes and a gratefully short list of hard choices, what exactly I'm made of.

So - as I heard someone say once - triple threat this.