This weekend was suppose to be the calm before the storm. In two weeks I’m going to try and tackle 2 tris in 12 hours. I’ve only done 2 Olympics and sprints in my life and in less than a day, I’m going to make each of those 3! More on that nonsense later.
Some people love to race. Some don’t. In the sport of triathlon, loving to race is an aquired taste. Most races start early in the morning which means REALLY early morning wake ups. Also, the water is never warm (except for all the pee of the athletes which is another thing).
Instead of a tranquil day of riding your bike enjoying the scenery, you replace it with an all out explosion of power rarely recalling WHAT the course beside you looks like. You can however recite every pot hole on the ground or how “good” the pavement was. Triathletes should all be road observers for the government.
The run. That last think you have to do before you can call it a day. At home you’d probably skip it if you already did the swim or bike. Kick back and enjoy that protein shake. Nope. Not on race day. Race day it doesn’t matter how tired you are. All you care about is two things: whens the next aid station and how much longer till I’m done. For those that care, the third thing might be how far behind me is the next guy.
As I sit here I think… wow. I am crazy to do all these things. But when you get that “itch”, that desire in your tummy that says I can do it, well, you gotta do it. So instead of a peaceful weekend home I’m going to trade it in for the frantic mess called triathlon.
Hey I’m all for putting my feet up but as Grandpa Rogers always said “Tommy, Put a chain on’er!”. Theres work to be done!
Happy Trainin,
CWR
Indeed! Put a chain on’er!