Back to Basics

So, I've wanted to write a  blog post about this for a while, but it just never seemed to be the right time. Now, we are 9 days out from Ironman Wisconsin, which is basically like Christmas for triathletes in the Midwest, and at which a lot of my friends will be, for the first time, completing an Ironman (special shout out to Sam, my amazing awesome athlete who I have been coaching for the big day for about 9 months). As I troll facebook and my newsfeed, the overwhelming sense of nervousness, excitement and anticipation is palpable. I know anxiety is unavoidable. If you aren't nervous, it means you aren't respecting the race and the distance for what it is, but I also feel like a lot of people, particularly first timers, are doing themselves an injustice by getting caught up in unnecessary details.

I have a very different perspective on triathlon training and racing from a lot of people that I know. When I started playing around with the idea of getting started in tris I was about 19 years old. I was in college and had limited resources and absolutely ZERO friends involved in the multisport community,so I decided I would figure it out for myself. I found the internet to be an overwhelming source of information so I did it the old fashioned way. I went to the store, bought a book, and sat down with my highlighter. I made lists of things I needed, lists of things that would be nice to have, but not necessary and signed up for my first Tri- the Chicago Tri. I'm not going to talk about my first tri experience here, but needless to say I loved it (with an entry level road bike, no wetsuit and no watch, computer or concept of time, and a regular old helmet) and I  was hooked and had my eye on Ironman. I was hooked because I love to swim  and bike and run. I was hooked because I like to do those three sports in succession. And I was hooked because I loved the feeling and sense of accomplishment that came along with training and racing.

So as I started to prepare for my first Ironman, that sense of minimalism that carried me successfully through my first triathlon seemed to be the right place to start. And don't get me wrong- could I have been better prepared? HELL YES. Could I have done a little more research and realized that you don't really have time to sit down and have a frickin picnic in the middle of the bike course? Sure. But, my goal was to finish the race. And I was going to finish it my way. That meant making peanut butter and nutella sandwiches the night before and packing them in my special needs bag ( and yes, eating them half way through the bike course). It meant wearing a one piece bathing suit the entire time because I didn't realize that there were changing tents. What it also meant, however, was that I was able to completely ignore what everyone around me was doing, and focus on my own race and my own wonderful Ironman experience.

Not only did I finish that day, but I finished happy, proud, comfortable and in just over 12 hours (ok, so it was IMFL but still) . I had no idea there were people out there tracking watts (I didn't know what a watt was....try saying that 3 times fast). I didn't know about Garmins, or compression socks, or protein drinks, or Infinit. I just knew I had to fuel myself for a 13-16 hour day and thats exactly what I did.

                   My IMFL finish. All I wanted was a hamburger and they gave me a veggie burger instead. wtf.


I am by no means advocating going into an Ironman uneducated about the sport, or about whats in store. The fact that I made it through the race that day is still somewhat of a miracle since I had never ridden my bike over 80 miles a day in my life. But I guess the point of all this is to tell people to take a step back and truly appreciate all the work you have put into getting to this day and forget about all the fancy stuff for a second. Sure, that stuff is fun, but its not what GOT you there. You will be an Ironman whether you cross the finish line in 10 hours or 16:59:59.  I've come a long way from my first few years of racing- I own a wet suit and soon a power tap. I have the fancy bike and compression socks (even though I still feel like they are toe straight jackets). And now, I do care about my finishing time. But I still look back on my IMFL finish as one of the most awesome experiences of my life.

So, all of you toeing the line for the first time at IMOO in a little over a week:  Get off Slow Twitch,  stop checking the weather, and forget about your Garmin. Just make yourself a Nutella sandwich and think about how awesome its going to be when all your hard work pays off.

Yup, I totally wore my medal to the waffle house the next day. and on the plane. Give me a break, I was 22.