Chili, Candy Bars and "Man Date" -- It's All Wrong In the Triathlon World

On my road to the Vegas Rock-n-Rol Marathon, I took the less traveled path at the fork-in-the-road and now find myself on the way to the Blue Water Triathlon this week-end where I will celebrate my birthday by "participating" ( a carefully chosen word as I avoided "compete) in my first triathlon.   Simply, I will measure my success by not drowning.  After successfully exiting the water alive, it just doesn't matter when I finish.

After 13 years of dealing with a sore, injured shoulder, I caved to drugs and opted for the cortisone injection which didn't seem to alleviate much pain. Nonetheless, I hope it helps on race day.

My Halloween crystal ball was correct!  Training food should never consist of chili, candy bars and wine in one night or subsequent evenings. Every run this week has been an adventure - visiting the forest as well as sprinting from port-a-potty to port-a-potty. 

My wife called it a "Man Date" when I thought it was just guys getting together over beers talking about the triathlon and biking.  Dave and I were introduced to Andy, a guy who does triathlons.  This is what Andy does - triathlons. I don't believe he has a job.  Andy trains...and trains...  Any rate, we picked his brain for advice regarding training, race day, equipment, nutrition, races, accomplishments and of course, my bike.

Knowing my ongoing search for triathlon bike that won't break the bank, Todd saw an opening for humiliation and prodding. "Bob, so what ARE you doing about a bike?" 

"I'm riding the Jet Star."

"The Jetstar? What's that?" Andy, the Triathon God spoke in surprise.

"YOU don't know what the Jetstar is?" I replied.  "Just the latest, greatest, fastest bike around!"

Yes, it is my "Schwinn Jetstar" commuter bike.  I'm waiting for my sponsor to step forward after the race and present me with a triathlon bike with bow upon it. In the meantime, I'm renting a road bike.  

After the mocking subsided, Andy did reveal an embarrassing moment though: at one of his races, a local, hardcore thiathlete, wanting to prove a point, passed him riding a commuter bike.  Mentally,  I exuberantly proclaimed, "There is still hope for you, dear Jetstar!"

All kidding aside, tt's been a very long time since I felt this scared with nervous anticipation about a race -- fear of the unknown and testing oneself... of course, the fear of drowning ranks up there as well.

The Running Bob