It seems like the last few days have yielded nothing but bad news from the world of triathlon, so it came as a wonderful surprise when we learned that former Xterra offroad triathlon champ Jamie Whitmore is expecting twins.
Many insiders considered her the Superwomen of off road triathlon because of her fearless, daring, and no holds barred racing style.
All that came to a dramatic end when she was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago.
Since that time Whitmore has battled cancer and gone through way too many surgical procedures to list. So when we read her recent blog entry entitled, "Shocking but Surprising" we almost didn't believe our eyes.
Even at the tender age of five, Tim Houston already has the guts and determination to be champion.
In his first triathlon nothing stood in the way of his desire to finish---not even his new prosthetic leg which he recently received from the Challenged Athletes Foundation.
At the local YMCA in Jacksonville, Florida Tim and his older brother tackled the 100 meter swim, 3 mile bike ride, and half a mile run like they were seasoned professionals instead of newbie triathletes.
That's exactingly what finisher and triathlete Jason Lester had to do to complete the grueling Ultraman race recently.
On her fun Blog professional triathlete Bree Wee has the complete story of how Jason completed the swim and the race.
You may recall the details as reported by Sign0nSanDiego.com:
"The county's first fatal shark attack in a half-century focused worldwide attention on a stretch of coastline with no history of shark activity.
The attack occurred about 7 a.m. yesterday off Solana Beach, a community of about 13,000 known for its strong tradition of triathlon competition. One of those competitors, David Martin, 66, died while swimming with eight other members of the Triathlon Club of San Diego."
Those are the facts, but the story of Dave Martin (the retired vet and triathlete who died on that spring day) is a truly remarkable one told with elegance and grace in this incredible tale told by Tom Friend for ESPN:
Sister Madonna Buder is competing today at the 26th installment of the USA Triathlon Age Group National Championship.
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to swim, bike, and run 318.6 miles in three days?
After all it was just one of those perfect days when the sun was warm without scorching the skin, the breeze was pushing softly against my sweaty body like a gentle caress, and the bike, Oh my God, did the bike feel fast.
I was at about mile 42 (or about 30 miles from home) when the four girls I know from the local Boulder women's bike team passed me on a gentle uphill. These young women were fit and buff...Boulder buff.
You know articles titles like:
- Top Ten fruits that really make you go fast
- 3 ways, in 3 weeks, at $3.00 per day to a top (you guessed it) 3 finish
- How to beak the records without breaking your body, your wallet or your wife
- The secret Professional "all salt diet"...never worry about sodium on race day again
- The secret Professional "all pepper diet"...it will really spice up your next performance
- Take your abs to the next level with the kick boxing workout...no kicking or boxing involved, just stand, clench your stomach, and take it like a true winner.
- The "all air diet", lose weight fast and never feel hungry or out of breath.
I think you get the idea.
So I was contemplating the hundreds, or is it thousands of articles that I've now read that all profess to take me from the back of the pack to the front of the field.
And I suddenly realized that they all have one thing in common: They are better at selling magazines than making me much faster on race day.
So being a published author, longtime blogger, and well know neighborhood blow bag, I naturally thought that I could come up with Four Real Ways to go Fast.
Pleas note that I did not call this column Four "Easy" ways to go fast, because they are not easy. In fact, they are hard, but that's what makes them work.
Please also note that these Four Ways to go Fast are for the "developing athlete". That would be any athlete, for instance like me, that has taken up their chosen sport later-in-life. And that's really the secret of my Four Step Plan. It is for the later-in-life developing athletes who are new, or pretty new to their chosen sports.
So here we go:
As a developing athletes we have to be willing to start over and learn the basics.
I know that sounds a bit simple but all too many age-group athletes have never formally learned the basics of their chosen sport. Be it running, or swimming, or even biking, we tend to just jump into a race without having spent our childhood years learning the basics of proper form and technique.
Or, if we did learn the basics today we are using 20, 30 or even 40-year-old racing and training wisdom to compete.
Technology and in depth knowledge of the human body has completely changed the way modern professional athletes train and race. If you are still using "The Joy of Running" as your training guide it is time to start all over again.
The same is true with cycling and especially swimming. The Australians, to a large extent, have completely rewritten the book on fast swim form. Lance Armstrong has changed the way that thousands of pros and age-group athletes attack the hills.
But more importantly, if you've never had any formal training in the different running styles, or proper leg turnover speed, or correct head position in the water, or efficient peddling techniques, your most likely just building your training and race form on a crumbling foundation.
It's like building a sandcastle when the outgoing tide keeps washing away the foundation. You'll only be able to build the walls so high before the entire castle collapses into the sea.
It takes many hours in the pool, or on the bike, or even around the track to get back to basics and learn the proper form. Unfortunately it does not take days, or weeks, or even months. It takes years, and that's why the number one way to get fast involves a lot of perseverance.
Chances are that the next time you race you'll lose, and the time after that, and the time after that. But it takes real confidence to feel like "true" athletes are not judging you and thus get flustered or worried about your lack of experience.
The only way to get past this initial hurdle is to put in the long training hours.
When I raced my first couple of Olympic triathlons, my legs would cramp up horribly on the run. The same thing happened to me at about mile 10 of my first half marathon. I struggled for answers. Could it be my nutrition? My Hydration? My genes? My diet, or lack thereof?
I finally asked a coach and he pointed out the obvious after a few basic training questions. I was no where near ready to race the longer distance. My training was haphazardous and my legs were not ready to run the greater distance.
Duh! Was what immediately occurred to me the second he said I was way under trained.
It takes a lot of confidence to mix it up with the big boys and girls come race day. But you can only get that confidence by putting in the time and effort in your training. That way, come race day, not only will your body and mind be ready to perform, but you'll have the strength to hold that proper form together that you just relearned.
3) The Passion of Means
Speed starts with passion.
True speed will never come as an end in itself. In other words, you have to have a real passion for your chosen sport to get really fast. For instance, you can't just say to yourself I'm going to run a sub one hour 10K without a real love for running.
Unless you love running, you won't be motivated enough to put in the time to learn the proper form, which in turn will give you the confidence to execute that form of race day, which in turn will give you that personal best or even podium position.
The best part of this simple equation is that as your performance improves, so will your passion for that sport.
When you ask a triathlete what's their best discipline (the swim, the bike, or the run)? Their answer will always be both their favorite and their fastest part of the sport.
I have yet to hear any triathlete tell me that they love to run, but they are much better and faster swimmer.
I really believe that in order to develop a passion for a sport, you first need to play.
The love of swimming comes from time spent goofing around at your local beach or pool. Perhaps it comes from a vacation when you first tried to surf, or the lazy summer days spent jumping into your favorite water hole.
It's those fun and carefree hours spent playing in the water that get you motivated to spend long hours horizontally getting faster and faster in the pool.
The love of cycling comes from the sense of freedom you get peddling your bike around your neighborhood with your kids. It comes from feeling the wind in your face and the sun in your eyes as you peddle to your favorite pick nick spot, or from the adrenaline rush as you blast down a huge hill for the first time.
It's those long hours of just peddling your new mountain bike over curbs and up dusty hills that gives you the passion to go on century training rides.
The love of running comes from the feeling of your heart pounding in your ears as you raced the kids at recess. Or it can come from the feeling of being at one with the forest and trail as you run your favorite loop. It can come from running your first 3 miles without stopping and feeling like you could go 4 miles, or it could come from knowing that with every mile you run you're efficiently burning that hamburger you had for lunch.
But it is that love of running that will give you the passion to run through the wall at your first marathon.
You'll note that these four are in the exact opposite order that kids learn to love a sport. But that's the secret to being a fast and successful developing athlete: You learn and grow to love a sport just like a child, you just do in in the exact opposite order.
* This Story was inspired by the fine swim coaches at SlowTwitch.com
So, in the next 900 to 1000 words I'll bare my soul to you with the simple hope that it will inspire you to do the same.
That way we can all move on and feel empowered to get beyond our shame.
It all really began in 5th grade at Gross Elementary school back in the Chicago Suburbs.
I was a big kid so my gym teacher naturally thought that I would make a great football player.
Little did he know that I would not.
I was totally terrified, dazed, and confused on the football field. I didn't get the sport, and I just wanted to go sit on the bench and pray for the game to end. As a youngster I had grown up in Europe playing European Football (soccer) and tennis. These were the sports for talented young men in Europe. But in the hometown of "The Bears" it was all about Football and touchdowns.
So when I intercepted a pass in the big 5th grade game at Gross Elementary and ran it down for a touchdown, I was elated by the cheers and yelps of the watching crowd, and I must say a bit confused by the odd reaction of my teammates.
They were all stunned into silence as I crossed into the end zone with a look of pained horror on their faces. I wondered if they were so stunned by my lighting quick hands and sprint to the end zone that they could simply not believe that I had scored a touchdown.
Was that the reason for the boos I was hearing?
Alas it was not the reason. I had, in fact, ran the wrong way and scored a touchdown for the opposing team.
In the process I had lost the game for us and earned the nickname Wrong Way Roman for the rest of my elementary school career.
It was perhaps one of the most painful, humiliating, and from today's perspective funny things I ever manged to do in elementary school.
So while many 5th graders saw the humor of the situation, I was painfully aware that they were certainly laughing at me, and not with me.
That was the end of my short lived Football career. I went on to play tennis in High School until my senior year when my tennis coach pointed out the obvious when he said, "Roman, Let's face it. You're no gazelle out there." By "there" he meant the tennis courts, and I instantly knew that he was spot on in his assessment of my potential hypo like tennis court control.
But unlike my horrible football failure, I didn't take this news with shame or even sadness. It was the truth, and I had done everything in my power to be the best tennis player in the Chicago Suburbs. I was simple not blessed with the same skills or genes of my fellow Czech tennis players with last names like Lendl and Navratilova. I was no gazelle and that was OK because I had stretched my talent as far as it would take me.
As I watch new age group athletes take on swimming, biking and running, I scream in my head..."Let's face it, you're no Gazelle out there. But that's really OK, the main thing is that you are out there." And I can't help but be extremely impressed by their strength, courage, and tenacity to pick up a new sport late in life, grab it by the neck, and wrestle it into submission.
I really worry that too many new athletes are like I was when I played football. They are terrified of the sport, they are terrified of making a classic mistake, and they are terrified of failure. So much so that they never even consider the possibility of success. They worry that they'll run the wrong way, or swim in the wrong direction, or fall of their bikes before they can unclip.
And you know what Newbies?
Run the wrong way,
Swim in the completely wrong direction,
and fall from your bike like a freshly cut tree before you have a chance to unclip.
I should know because I've done all of these things and I'll probably do them again, but that's all besides the point.
Here's a quote I recently read in an email from a Michael, a newbie, who just bought my new book:
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely
in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up,
totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming -- WOW--What a ride!!!"
OK, I'm not sure I want to totally use up my body yet. I hope to still use it for a few other fun activities outside of sports. I'm sure you can think of few yourself. But...life's is certainly in the journey, and not the destination.
In college I used to like to say, "Life is what happens to me in between the times I do my laundry."
Today I'd probably amend that to, "Life is what happens to me in between the times I pay my mortgage."
But certainly I've learned since 5th grade that life is too short to worry about running the wrong way.
What are some of your biggest, funniest, and best sports blunders?
Please share your story for all of the newbies reading this column.
Roman "Wrong Way" Mica
You jump in a pool with no lane lines...I repeat NO lane lines, and you swim with your eyes closed while a coach or a friend monitors your progress.
The point of this exercise is to figure out your strong and weak sides. Some of us will naturally swim to the left, while others tend to veer to the right, while a few lucky or talented swimmers will swim dead straight.
If you try this drill you'll immediately learn two important lessons:
1) Which direction you tend to swim when you are in open water and,
2) The sheer terror and challenge of swimming blind.
"Trouble with you is the trouble with me,
Got two good eyes but you still don't see."
Recently I had the privilege to attend the second annual Tri It Camp for blind women in Glenwood Springs, Colorado.
My lovely wife decided that she wanted to learn how to guide blind triathletes, so I loaded up our son, our gear, and joined her for one of the most extraordinary weekends of my life.
The camp consisted of a small group of 7 women athletes, and 7 women guides from around the country, of all ages, who learned over the course of the weekend how to swim, bike, and run together. The culmination of the camp was a mini triathlon on Sunday morning where the blind athletes put all of their newfound skills together for a one hour sprint triathlon.
I still vaguely recall from my years at journalism school that the above sentences covers the five basic "W's" of good reporting which I'm sure you know consist of who, what, where, when, and why.
But between you and me the five "W's" need some explaining to really capture the spirit and meaning of the camp to both the blind athletes and the sighted guides, as well as myself.
The biggest challenge that many of us face when getting up in the morning is to figure out what color shirt to match with what color pants. Or perhaps you are like me and your morning challenge consists of deciding what type of fruit you'll add to your cereal.
Now imagine getting up in the dark, with no hope of a sunrise. I have to be honest, that thought just terrifies me; yet it is exactly how the seven newbie blind triathletes began their camp day. Actually I'm not being completely honest because some of the blind athletes still retained a bit of light recognition, as some of the women progressively lost their eye sight throughout their lives.
So I guess to be completely fair, imagine getting up in the morning and seeing just enough shade of black to help you remember what it was like to see. To remember how it felt to get up and be able to match your clothes, make that cup of coffee, and slice that banana into your morning cereal.
But instead you wake up in a pitch black hotel room, at just about 6000 feet of elevation, hundreds or even thousand of miles from your home, your friends, your family, your established routine, and your familiar surroundings with the knowledge that today you get to swim, bike, and run your first triathlon with a stranger.
You'll have to excuse me, but all of my pissing and moaning about not being able to sleep before my last Ironman rings somewhat hollow to me today. In fact, I'm a bit embarrassed that I even mentioned it in my last race report.
So please imagine yourself completely in the dark and unknown hotel room in the middle of the Rocky Mountains about to place your life completely in the hands of a kind stranger.
Now before I go any further I want to be absolutely clear about the word inspiration. Because I'm verging on the edge of making these blind athletes sound like they could, should, and would inspire you. But my real sense from getting to know these women is that's the last word they would feel comfortable using to describe themselves or their motivation. For them it was just business as usual.
The camp and the triathlon was just another obstacle to overcome in a lifetime of proving people like me wrong. Showing me that just because they can't see doesn't mean they can't live independent lives. In fact, proving to me that sight, or lack thereof, is not what defines them as people, or for that matter, as athletes.
My wife's weekend blind partner in crime and namesake (another Barbara) recently survived breast cancer. She discovered she had breast cancer after she fell and broke her ankle. She credits her cancer survival to being blind because if she was able to see, she would have never gone to the doctor with a broken ankle nor asked for a mammogram while she was in the x-ray room.
But that's just one of the amazing stories of the weekend.
Another memory I can't shake is that of the blind athlete who had not been in a pool since she was a young girl. After she lost her sight it had not occurred to her to go swimming. And let's face it, even if she had wanted to go swimming, it would be a bit difficult without a guide.
I watched her tentatively take her first swim strokes in the pool. Unbelievably, it didn't take long for her to start pushing her guide to faster and faster speeds.
And that's the second lesson I took away from the camp. I always struggle with the motivation to go and exercise. There is always some reason not to go. But these athletes had the best reason not to go, and yet they fought tooth and nail for the simple opportunity to go for that swim, bike, or run.
Where is probably the toughest "W" of all to define.
Why? Because it cuts me to the bone. I think to myself, "Where am I in my own personal life's journey?"
The sport of triathlon tends to be a jealous mistress in that it easily eats up all of the time and energy I can throw at it. But at the end of the day what does that really accomplish?
How much faster do I swim after spending countless hours in the pool?
How much quicker is my bike split after my third or fourth century ride of the summer?
How many seconds, or perhaps minutes, faster is my next 10K after all those early morning track workouts?
And most importantly, do all of those saved seconds really matter for anything real and important?
I can't help but wonder if it would have been so much better to spend a few of those countless hours helping a local blind triathlete go for their swim, bike, or run?
Because unlike them I have the privilege to chose when and how much I want to work out without having to ask for somebody for a helping hand.
Let me break it down in proper triathlon order.
To be able to guide a blind triathlete, the guide and athlete have to learn to swim tethered by a bungee cord. This springy cord is tied around both the guide's and triathlete's waist...which in theory keeps both athletes swimming in the same direction.
Unfortunately since our arms tend to be longer than our waistline the cord also means that on one side of the swim stroke, both the guide and the athlete have to substantially shorten their swim stroke. This is a skill, like any other, that has to be practiced and learned.
This was the most amazing part of the race to watch because honestly I just don't know how the blind athletes actually manage this tricky part so gracefully. I can barely towel myself down and get myself on the bike with my helmet and sunglasses on my head. How the blind athletes did this, mounted a tandem bike, and set off down the road is really a testament to their courage and skills.
How much would somebody have to pay you to jump on a tandem bike with a stranger and go roaring down a small path next to I-70 at break neck speeds? How much courage does this really take? Because that exactly what all seven athletes and guides did. And to my sheer amazement they did it with huge smiles on their faces.
OK, so maybe my wife didn't smile until after she got to the run, but the other Barbara on the bike had a massive smile on her face the entire way up and down the bike course. It was just too bad that my Barb couldn't see it.
So I was talking to Barbara (my wife's partner) after the race and she casually mentioned that she walks three miles to work and three miles back home every day. This in itself is pretty extraordinary as I personally don't know anyone, with or without their sight, that walks even a half mile to work. However, she went on to say that the most difficult thing about walking is that while she sweeps her cane back and forth as she walks, she can often miss the potholes and ruts.
The cane will warn her of curbs, but not the ruts and cracks of a typical sidewalk.
Now image having no cane and running. Which was probably the most amazing part of the camp for my wife. On day one of the camp, all the athletes and guides went to the track to learn to run together.
When it was Barbara's turn she asked my wife how to run. My wife was stunned. Barbara had never run in her life. So my Barb showed her how to move her feet, swing her arms, and basically explained the correct way to run.
Barbara immediately shot down the track like a rocket at a full sprint. My wife chased after her and mentioned to her in between heavy breaths that she needed to run slower...more of a jog and less of a sprint. To Barbara this was all new, and to me this was all just plain wonderful.
This is the easiest "W" of the five.
Why do the blind athletes want to try a triathlon?
I suspect for the exact same reason as you and I race:
to feel the wind in our hair,
to feel our muscles and body strain and work
to hear our heart pounding in our ears
to push past the point of pain and fear
to conquer not one, but three sports in one huge leap
to brag to our friends and families about our race day adventures
to conquer that which is unconquerable
to simply feel healthy, vibrant, and alive.
At the end of the day's mini sprint tri both the athletes and the guides had a chance to sit in the early morning sun, have a well earned snack, and line up for their finishers medals. To the casual passerby it was no different from your typical post triathlon celebration.
Except that is was hugely different...at least for me.
I knew that these athletes and guides had done much more than just finish a sprint triathlon.
shared each others fears, hopes, and goals
ran a mile in each other's Nike's
learned to trust each other
smiled and cried together and
returned home with new found friends and new found strength.
Incredibly the camp was put on by Nancy Stevens, a blind triathlete. She's always on the lookout for new guides. This year she had to turn away three blind athletes because of a lack of guides. If you are looking for a terrific way to give back to the sport and give yourself a precious gift in the process, you may want to contact Nancy.
And don't forget to say Hi to Coco her swimming-eye-dog.
Yesterday I had a really nice email exchange with Joe about my last "Brush with Sports Celebrity" post regarding Alan Webb. Joe's a former collegiate runner. One of those guys that I really admire for their athleticism and speed these days.
In his last email Joe wrote:
"btw, i'm no longer of of "those guys". I got burned out pretty hard and quit running after my Jr year. I left my coaches office, hung up my shoes and literally didn't touch them for over a year. Ever since then, i've been trying to get back into something (running, tris, weights, whatever) every year, but nothing has grabbed me yet. I've managed to do a few tris, a couple xterras, and even a marathon last year, but nothing close to being competitive at any level. On the "positive" side, maybe I'll just gain 5 more pounds and compete in the clydesdale division! ;)
Which made me recall why I started this journey and this blog.
So I thought I'd pass along my response to you:
I used to ski race in College for the University of Colorado.
Today the mountains outside of my door are covered in a fresh coat of snow, and yet I have very little to no interest in going skiing.
I think this is because I’ve climbed that mountain and now I have only one way to go...down.
In other words when I ski, I still remember how fast and good I was in college. And more importantly how it felt to command my body and the mountain.
These days when I ski I have this feeling that I have molasses in my nerve endings.
I tell my legs to turn, and I count to one thousand, and they they finally turn.
In college that same turn took a millisecond. I flew through the gates banging out, one perfect turn after another. Don’t get me wrong I can still ski better than most, but certainly not with the same finesse and grace of my college ski team years.
So now I’ve taken up triathlon. And even though I’m getting older I’m still getting faster. And while I’m certainly very far from “better than most” when it comes to swimming, cycling, or running, I do manage to improve every year.
That makes me feel like I’m climbing a new mountain...all be it one that is devoid of any snow.
I guess it is just really a matter perception, but than again sometimes perception is all that really matters.
I've been thinking a lot about motivation, or lack thereof, after reading this post that Tim Luchinske wrote just after Christmas.
Tim recounts a day when Chuckie V and he were biking when...but I'll let him tell the story:
"A few years back Chuck and I were standing on the side of the road out by Carter Lake eating.. we saw two fairly fit cyclists fly by obviously putting in an effort.. trading pulls on the front. I looked at Chuck and said "We should catch those guys".. He replied "Yep.. let's do it". And neither of us budged. We kept eating our Powerbars and chatting about how nice the weather was and why those goddamn cows were staring us down (remind me to tell the story of Chuck mooning a cow on a run). After a while we slowly climbed back on our bikes and spun up to speed.. got loose.. and caught the two cyclists after not too long. They jumped (as roadies do) and got on our wheels.. and soon faded off the back, the pace too fast, as Chuck and I rolled back to town at an effort that would that still allow us to run a quick marathon.
It was, and still is, looking back at that day that I think defines why I exercise. As those two cyclists rode by, and as we decided to catch them, and as neither of us felt the need to rush.. it's that feeling of fitness and confidence that we gain from training... training harder and more and farther and harder and faster.
On days when you don't want to go out the door.. think that there will come a day when someone will go by you and you will either wish you could catch them.. or you will go ahead and finish your Powerbar and KNOW that you will still catch them."
Tim uses this story to as a way to motivate himself to get out on those cold Boulder mornings. I suspect if you were to ask him he'd say that this is certainly one of the benefit of being fit....very fit.
The problem from an everyman tri point of view is that I just don't really get it, and I suppose that really is the difference between the pro's and myself.
Let me explain.
The typical pro triathlete may Swim 18-22K, Bike 300-500K, Run 50-80K....a WEEK!
Just think about those numbers for a second...15 miles of swimming not a month, not a year, not even a long summer...but a week. How long would that take you?
All I can think of when I see weekly numbers like that is "that's a hell of a lot of work to be able to munch your PowerBar a few minutes longer."
Let's assume that you are working out 5 hours a week and you decide to get a bit more serious about your training so you double the time spent on swimming, cycling, and running to 10 hours a week.
If you use your head, and you do it in a very efficient way, you may actually get 25 percent faster when you race.
Now you decide to get even more serious so you double your training time again. But chances are that you won't get another 25 percent faster. In fact you may not get faster, but you will certainly increase your chances of getting injured.
Now let's up that training time to 30 hours a week. This may seem like a lot but it really isn't if you are looking at a sub 11 hour Ironman time.
Will 30 hours make you 75 percent faster?
But it will certainly buy you those extra minutes to munch your PowerBar, but frankly that's what I don't get.
I think of all the things that I could be doing with 30 hours a week of my life, and I just can't get all that excited about spending it in the pool, on the bike, or on a long run.
But than again I'm not a pro, and I'm certainly not a gifted endurance athlete.
I think if I had the endurance gift I would certainly be much more likely to want to develop it as much as possible. Like a great violinist or pianist, I would want to see how good I could be.
Alas I'm not gifted so I'm not so curious.
But what I am curious about is why so many seemingly normal athletes bow at the feet of the God of triathlon?
It does amaze me that so many everyday athletes would let triathlon (she is a very jealous mistress after all) get between them and their families, or their careers, or their God, or their car, or their cat, or their ice cream, or their television, or their holidays, or their shopping, or their education, or their sleep, or their Sudoku or their friends, or their....
Let's be honest here and admit that many of us will think nothing of spending hours upon hours in the solitary pursuit of a few minutes on race day.
I guess it is easy to get caught up in the sport especially if you have a bit of race success. I know I did this summer when I worked very hard to win my age and fat group at the Chicago Triathlon.
In the end all I got out the victory was a battle with the race director about if I had weighed in or not before the race. This race day debate certainly made me look at my priorities in a new light.
For me triathlon will always be about a healthy lifestyle balanced with a healthy family and professional life.
We may all find that balance (let's call it the PowerBar Paradox) in different ways, but every-so-often I have to do a reality check and just wonder out loud about how we go about this.
So thanks for listening.
But you'll have to excuse me as I'm tired now and I have to get up early to go for my Monday morning masters swim ;-)