The Impossible Dream

I saw it coming the whole time: my first triathlon meltdown. The warning signs started about 6 weeks ago--every week of training seemed the same as the last; my enthusiasm for suiting up and running in 20 degrees and 20 mph wind was long gone; I hated my bike seat, bike shorts, the smell of the bar tape on my aerobars; I actively started to look into buying a new mountain bike to start racing Xterra tri's. In 7 seasons of triathlon, I have been derailed by a variety of injuries and work obligations but I'd never had a complete lack of motivation to train--until 2 weeks ago. I did the workouts only because I hate leaving things undone.

"You mad at triathlon." Kevin said to me.

I wouldn't believe him, but it was true. It had consumed our lives. We come home from work, scurry to get our swim/ride done, eat dinner as fast as we can to fuel our run, race to get the run in before the sunset, pass out on the couch, sleep, wake up, repeat. On days off, we wake up, eat, swim, eat, bike, eat, run, eat, pass out on couch. Somewhere in between, we manage to do laundry, buy groceries, and keep the squalor in the house at a manageable level. Kevin seems happy with this existence and his focus and gusto to train is boundless. I think it's because he feels that his goals for this season are very much within his reach. On the other hand, I was quite unhappy with our routine and my drive had dried up. I reassessed my goals for this season: Break 5:40 at Eagleman or Musselman. Frankly, I don't know where I'm going to shave 16 minutes off my HIM time. I could skip putting on socks at T1 and put Yanks on my running shoes to save time tying shoe laces--that would be a time savings of what? 2 minutes. I could ride 16 minutes faster, but would I end up blowing up on the run? From what corner of my ass am I going pull that much time off of last year's result?!

Then I tried to be philosophical about my goals. So what if I don't reach them? Our health is transient and there are many things on race day I can't control. Why should be my happiness be vested in such fleeting things? I should just be happy that I CAN train and exercise at this level--so many other people have it worse. Afterall, I'm not dying of cancer or have an incurable, crippling disease.

Then the HTFU voice kicked in: "Suck it up, buttercup! There's no crying in triathlon! Winners don't whine! Don't be a quitter!"

Then my childhood voice of the kid picked last for kickball said,"You can't quit triathlon! Who will you play with? You won't have any friends cuz they'll be running and biking and swimming--and you'll be left behind!" WTF was THAT for crying out loud?!

Finally, I asked myself how much I wanted to achieve my goal, the seemingly impossible dream. The answer was: Alot, a big bunch...I really want to reach it. Even more importantly I want the opportunity to turn myself inside out trying to reach it. 5:40--it's just a number and not a very fast or tri-studly one for some, but it's my dream. I want the chance to achieve it, to arrive on race day and feel that I've done everything I can to prepare for it, to cross the finish line and say that I gave all that I could, that I didn't hold back from fear of blowing up or having it hurt too much.

So back on the saddle I go, lance in hand, tilting at windmills.