I echo
sentiments from many people who started doing triathlons later in life – I
never thought of myself as an athlete growing up. Yeah, I played softball for a
few years. I tried cross country in high school. But in my mind, athletes were
the ones who ate, slept, and constantly thought about training for the next
race, meet or game. When I heard the word athlete, I thought of the amazing men
and women competing in the Olympics. Since I didn’t think I’d ever be that
awesome at any sports, I never thought of myself as an athlete.
My
definition of an athlete has changed over the past few months. Yes, my
definition still includes eating, drinking, sleeping and thinking about your
sport almost obsessively. And athletes all work very hard in their chosen
competition. But athletes don’t have to be Olympians or star quarterbacks. They
don’t have to be a Nike sponsor or walk around with milk mustaches all day,
even when it’s not Movember. I’d like to describe what a triathlete is to me,
both from observations at the many triathlons I’ve been to this year, as well
as from personal experience.
- A triathlete invests countless hours into running, swimming, biking, cross fitting, lifting, and drinking and eating stuff chock full of protein and other ingredients a non-triathlete can’t pronounce (and probably doesn’t want to taste – blech!).
- Many triathletes long ago stopped letting their moms pick out their outfits – and it shows with the many neon, glitterized, miss-matched outfits often seen on cyclists (but those cyclists’ friends and families have a very easy time picking them out of the crowd).
- On any given day, a triathlete can name 2-3 (minimum) injuries they are trying to roll out, massage out, or fight through. Triathlete injuries are like battle scars for a soldier.
- Triathletes can often be found discussing all the various new techniques for getting rid of the above mentioned injuries – gone are the days of merely tugging on compression socks after each race or wrapping up a knee or shoulder in KT Tape. Now you can choose between Compex Sport Elite electrostimulation devices (say that 10 times fast), pharmaceutical grade fish oil and the slightly less technical methodology of stuffing ice down your compression _____ (you fill in the blank with any article of clothing that can now be found with the tight, boa constrictor feel – basically everything).
- Triathletes are masters at timing. They can spit out their splits faster than you can say Garmin. They also have the 20 second draft rule down to an art – leap frogging with others to try and sneak in a free ride here and there.
- Many triathletes make Cirque du Soleil performers look like amateurs. Have you seen someone trying to peel out of their wetsuit when they are dizzy and/or shivering? It’s truly an art.
- Triathletes are very flexible, especially those competing in Ironman distances. How else do you explain someone angling and aiming just right to pee on the person cycling behind them around mile 78?
- On the more serious side, I’ve never met a closer-knit supportive group of people. When I played softball, I never heard the 2nd baseman tell me, “great steal” or the catcher say, “nice homerun”! Many triathletes encourage each other, cheer each other on, and make new friends – especially during the run portion when everyone is tired and just wants to be done already. I’ve seen people hang out at the finish line after they’ve finished, cheering for someone they just met that day. When I was amongst a crowd of probably 30 or so people running behind James Lawrence, aka the Iron Cowboy, as he finished his 30th Ironman this year, I felt like I was with family cheering on a cousin. What also impressed me was how James stopped and waited for his friends during the swim – cheering other athletes on during the wait.
- Triathletes are incredibly persevering. They come in all shapes, sizes, experience levels, nationalities, etc. But it really doesn’t matter their weight or height – what matters is their determination to finish the race. The best ones even smile while they’re doing it.
Nothing
marks a triathlete though like the huge smile, arm pump, cartwheel, jig, or
even tears that often accompanies them across the finish line. I can
attest to the complete euphoric joy of running across, full speed, knowing you’ve
just done something you never thought you could. When I thought of how I’d
overcome my fear of water, and just swam 750 meters in 24 minutes (which
actually turned out to be almost 900 meters), cruised along on the bike for
12.5 miles averaging 17.7 mph (passing tons of people on the way), and did a
slow but acceptable 31 minute 5k – all in an hour 44 minutes, I employed both
the huge grin and arms raised high in the air finish line techniques. But the
joy I felt at knowing that I could now call myself a triathlete – because of
the training, injuries, mental struggles, drinking all those nasty green
protein shakes, cheering on my fellow athletes on the run and shucking that wet
suit like it was 1999 (okay, just kidding, I had to have some major help on
that one) – was indescribable. I still feel all warm and tingly inside when I
think about it (or maybe that’s from the medal AND kiss I got at the finish
line…). 
