I should have skipped it. Should have just stayed home, watered my yard, drank beer, maybe hit a Crossfit class, but instead I packed up my bike and all the other necessary gear and drove down to Muncie for a half-Ironman distance triathlon yesterday (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 run).
This was the third time I've competed in this event. I had a fairly decent swim, strong bike, and a horrible run.
It was a race I'll not soon forget. Lots of lessons learned - like 'don't forget your socks', 'don't forget all your toiletries, including your contact lenses and have to swim blind ', and lastly 'if you are going to do a half-Ironman distance triathlon you should train for the run'. As I walked vast stretches of the run coarse in pain from my under-trained ligaments I thought how supportive I was being for my fellow triathlete's as they ran past me. I imagined them thinking "At least I'm not walking", "look at that poor guy", "I trained therefore I'm running - that poor soul didn't train and he's walking". General thoughts like that kept my spirits up - I found solace in the psychological benefit I was giving others. The mile marker signs became like an oassis in the dessert. The sun was baking my mind and body, but one must carry on. Muncie turned into the Sahara for me. It was a mental test more than anything, because my body was still at home sitting on the couch flipping channels.
I finished. And then I found a shady spot to sit for a moment. After a while I picked myself up and starting walking to transition to get my bike and head for home. I passed the medical tent and saw all the people getting IV's, their blood pressure checked, some dude was being brought in from the course on a stretcher fresh out of the ambulance. They didn't train much either I guess.
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