My First Triathlon

Ok so you're probably trying to figure out what my first triathlon could possible have to do with Molly? It sort of ties in to the previous post, which I believe I started by posing a similar question. The answer is also similar: THERAPY.

Also mentioned in the previous post is disdain I had for turning 30. I have since gotten over that - you know, perspective and all. But what that did was turn me on to a whole new form of exercise. Actually even before that, my friend Cyrus, a diabetic, convinced me to ride in a charity bike ride for the American Diabetes Association. I didn't even have a bike and the ride was 30 days away. So I bought a bike and started pedalling. When the ride was over I was looking for something to keep me motivated (since in the back of my mind I knew 30 was coming). I decided on triathlon.

Looking back I have no idea why I didn't just keep riding my bike? Why add two more sports? I was never a fan of running, and I couldn't swim more than 25 meters without resting. In hindsight, the idea never should have gotten off the ground. But it did.

I started training in the winter. In February. Coincidentally, a few weeks into training we got Molly's diagnosis. At this point there were a lot of things on my mind, and a lot of things on my plate. The first decision I made was that I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Erin and Gavin. The second decision I made was that I wanted to go through with the triathlon. I knew that in order to do those two things I would have to give a couple things up. That's when I decided to take a leave of absence from my duties as a volunteer firefighter.

Well after I got squared away with my time management, a funny thing happened: I began to look forward to training sessions. Instead of a 2 mile run that I could get done in 15 minutes or so, I started to go on 5 mile runs that took closer to 45 minutes. Sometimes I'd break up the run with a brisk walk that would drag it out to more like an hour. Bike rides easily climbed in to the two hour window. And I was going to the gym six days a week often times. These sessions gave me time to think. They helped clear my head. And they often made me feel better.

So finally, today, I completed my first race. I only slept for three hours last night, and that will likely be printed in the Trenton Times tomorrow, since my wife told a reporter. But I got there bright and early this morning, ready for action. My goal was to finish. My secondary goal was to finish in less than 90 minutes. I crossed the finish line at 1:26:59, and immediately felt a sense of accomplishment. It even choked me up a bit to see my very pregnant wife, and very excited son at the finish line, cheering me on. They are my motivation, and my support system, and I wouldn't have even gotten out of bed if not for them. Not just this morning, but most mornings. And they were really happy for me.

It didn't take long for me to start talking about how bad my time was. And how much better I was planning on doing next time. I just need more therapy.