Back in January, shortly after I got it in my head that doing a triathlon might be fun, I stumbled upon Slowtwitch. I was still very much in the information-gathering mode at the time, and I realized quickly that I'd discovered the mother lode of tri knowledge.
I write this as a thank-you to Dan and everyone else who's contributed to this amazing site. Also, for those of you who might be in the "just thinking about it" phase, this is my way of paying back the sport in some small measure by encouraging you to get out there and do it.
A little over two years ago, my weight had crept up to 250 and I was getting no exercise at all. Disgusted, I finally started on a weight-loss campaign that involved a lot of walking and some very careful calorie-counting. By the beginning of 2002, I was down to 220 and had graduated from walking to the Stairmaster and some weight training. By late 2002, my weight was down to 210 and I could string together a few 9-minute miles.
Simultaneously, and tragically, my wife of 20 years began a downward spiral into alcoholism and mental illness. Much as I tried, I was powerless to do anything to help her. (She finally entered rehab this past January, and has made great strides towards recovery; still, caring for our two sons has been primarily my responsibility for the last year.)
Running became my coping mechanism, and in November and December, I did a lot of it. By January, having begun to approach the upward limits of how much running I could do without risking injury, I started to think about mixing in some swimming and biking. The only problem was, I had never been a swimmer or a biker. That's when I started to do some research and discovered Slowtwitch.
Using Dan's bike picker, I ordered up my first road bike (from a wonderful builder, well-chronicled on this site) and started riding the stationary cycle at my gym while I awaited delivery. I also ventured into the swimming pool and survived my first humiliating laps. Very quickly thereafter, I bought the Total Immersion book and started doing the drills. I also bought the Friel book and studied it carefully. When I got to the part that requires writing down some season goals, I had absolutely no idea what was realistic. Ignorance being bliss, I wrote down that I wanted to do an Olympic distance in 2:30, and, hey, if I can do an Olympic in 2:30, I ought to be able to do a half IM in 5:00, right? So those became my first season goals.
In February, I joined one of the local tri clubs, which has proven to be an absolute godsend. You couldn't ask for a more supportive, fun group of people with which to train. (Many of them are regulars on this site, so to those of you who recognize me in this story, hi and thanks.)
At the beginning of March, my bike arrived, along with the good weather. I spent a lot of time on it, and it wasn't long before cycling replaced running as my favored sport. I'd spend the whole work week looking forward to getting out on the club's Saturday ride. (Swimming was a different story; I bought myself a T1 wetsuit--thanks again, Dan--but it wasn't enough to keep me from dreading those cold open-water swims.)
I had signed up for an Olympic distance in June and a half IM in August, figuring that would give me enough time to train. In April, though, someone posted on the club's website that a sponsor had a few Wildflower Olympic slots available. It didn't seem too unreasonable (again, ignorance = bliss) to move my first race up from the end of June to the beginning of May, so I begged my way in.
I trained hard through April, probably too hard, and by the time Wildflower rolled around, I knew I would at least survive the race. Never have I been so nervous as I was setting up my first transition area. The race came and went in a blur. It was a big, fantastic, adrenaline and endorphin rush. I didn't make 2:30 of course, but I wasn't ridiculously far off.
Completely hooked, I landed an Alcatraz slot by recruiting a large contingent of volunteers. I did all the training rides, bricks and swims with the club, but I wasn't really prepared for the cold. I suffered and went slower than I thought I should have.
Two weeks later came my original "goal" Olympic race. Luckily, it turned out to be a flat, fast course on a nice day. Everything clicked, and I felt fast all the way through. 2:16, and a respectably high finish in my age group. Hey, this sport is pretty fun.
The next day, I'm out for a run and I start feeling crappy. Really crappy. I have to walk back in. This crappy feeling persists for a week, then two, then three. At first, I think it's a cold, so I keep training (hey, I've got my half IM in a month--I've got to keep going). After three weeks, I can barely run at all. I go to the doctor. Pneumonia. The good news is that it's already started to clear up.
Over the next month, I regained my strength and tried to do enough long rides and runs to survive the half. Race day, I felt like I was slogging through, but I passed a lot of people on the run. 5:18. Not bad, but not my goal time.
By then, after much cajoling on my part, one of the very fast local legends of triathlon had finally agreed to start coaching me. There was another half in a month, with slots available, and he built a plan to get me ready.
The difference between his workout plan and my own haphazard approach was huge. (If it's within your means to get a coach, I highly recommend it.)
When race day arrived, I was tapered and ready to go. Everything went as well as it could go, except that the swim course turned out to be significantly longer than 1.2 miles. Finishing time: 5:03. (Had the course been correct, it would have been 4:58.) Close enough, anyway.
I'm going to do one more race this year, then next year I plan to do a full IM. Halfway through the season, I'll bump up to the 45-49 age group. Can I get fast enough to qualify for Kona? Who knows? In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter much.
What's important is that I've found a pursuit that has completely changed my life, and in many ways, kept me sane through some very difficult times. Thank you, again, to everyone here who has shared so much knowledge and experience with us beginners.
For those of you that are considering it, yes, triathlon training eats up a lot of your free time, but you won't feel like you're making a sacrifice. You can work full time, raise two kids on your own, and still be a decent triathlete. What that does for your self-esteem is pretty amazing.
I write this as a thank-you to Dan and everyone else who's contributed to this amazing site. Also, for those of you who might be in the "just thinking about it" phase, this is my way of paying back the sport in some small measure by encouraging you to get out there and do it.
A little over two years ago, my weight had crept up to 250 and I was getting no exercise at all. Disgusted, I finally started on a weight-loss campaign that involved a lot of walking and some very careful calorie-counting. By the beginning of 2002, I was down to 220 and had graduated from walking to the Stairmaster and some weight training. By late 2002, my weight was down to 210 and I could string together a few 9-minute miles.
Simultaneously, and tragically, my wife of 20 years began a downward spiral into alcoholism and mental illness. Much as I tried, I was powerless to do anything to help her. (She finally entered rehab this past January, and has made great strides towards recovery; still, caring for our two sons has been primarily my responsibility for the last year.)
Running became my coping mechanism, and in November and December, I did a lot of it. By January, having begun to approach the upward limits of how much running I could do without risking injury, I started to think about mixing in some swimming and biking. The only problem was, I had never been a swimmer or a biker. That's when I started to do some research and discovered Slowtwitch.
Using Dan's bike picker, I ordered up my first road bike (from a wonderful builder, well-chronicled on this site) and started riding the stationary cycle at my gym while I awaited delivery. I also ventured into the swimming pool and survived my first humiliating laps. Very quickly thereafter, I bought the Total Immersion book and started doing the drills. I also bought the Friel book and studied it carefully. When I got to the part that requires writing down some season goals, I had absolutely no idea what was realistic. Ignorance being bliss, I wrote down that I wanted to do an Olympic distance in 2:30, and, hey, if I can do an Olympic in 2:30, I ought to be able to do a half IM in 5:00, right? So those became my first season goals.
In February, I joined one of the local tri clubs, which has proven to be an absolute godsend. You couldn't ask for a more supportive, fun group of people with which to train. (Many of them are regulars on this site, so to those of you who recognize me in this story, hi and thanks.)
At the beginning of March, my bike arrived, along with the good weather. I spent a lot of time on it, and it wasn't long before cycling replaced running as my favored sport. I'd spend the whole work week looking forward to getting out on the club's Saturday ride. (Swimming was a different story; I bought myself a T1 wetsuit--thanks again, Dan--but it wasn't enough to keep me from dreading those cold open-water swims.)
I had signed up for an Olympic distance in June and a half IM in August, figuring that would give me enough time to train. In April, though, someone posted on the club's website that a sponsor had a few Wildflower Olympic slots available. It didn't seem too unreasonable (again, ignorance = bliss) to move my first race up from the end of June to the beginning of May, so I begged my way in.
I trained hard through April, probably too hard, and by the time Wildflower rolled around, I knew I would at least survive the race. Never have I been so nervous as I was setting up my first transition area. The race came and went in a blur. It was a big, fantastic, adrenaline and endorphin rush. I didn't make 2:30 of course, but I wasn't ridiculously far off.
Completely hooked, I landed an Alcatraz slot by recruiting a large contingent of volunteers. I did all the training rides, bricks and swims with the club, but I wasn't really prepared for the cold. I suffered and went slower than I thought I should have.
Two weeks later came my original "goal" Olympic race. Luckily, it turned out to be a flat, fast course on a nice day. Everything clicked, and I felt fast all the way through. 2:16, and a respectably high finish in my age group. Hey, this sport is pretty fun.
The next day, I'm out for a run and I start feeling crappy. Really crappy. I have to walk back in. This crappy feeling persists for a week, then two, then three. At first, I think it's a cold, so I keep training (hey, I've got my half IM in a month--I've got to keep going). After three weeks, I can barely run at all. I go to the doctor. Pneumonia. The good news is that it's already started to clear up.
Over the next month, I regained my strength and tried to do enough long rides and runs to survive the half. Race day, I felt like I was slogging through, but I passed a lot of people on the run. 5:18. Not bad, but not my goal time.
By then, after much cajoling on my part, one of the very fast local legends of triathlon had finally agreed to start coaching me. There was another half in a month, with slots available, and he built a plan to get me ready.
The difference between his workout plan and my own haphazard approach was huge. (If it's within your means to get a coach, I highly recommend it.)
When race day arrived, I was tapered and ready to go. Everything went as well as it could go, except that the swim course turned out to be significantly longer than 1.2 miles. Finishing time: 5:03. (Had the course been correct, it would have been 4:58.) Close enough, anyway.
I'm going to do one more race this year, then next year I plan to do a full IM. Halfway through the season, I'll bump up to the 45-49 age group. Can I get fast enough to qualify for Kona? Who knows? In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter much.
What's important is that I've found a pursuit that has completely changed my life, and in many ways, kept me sane through some very difficult times. Thank you, again, to everyone here who has shared so much knowledge and experience with us beginners.
For those of you that are considering it, yes, triathlon training eats up a lot of your free time, but you won't feel like you're making a sacrifice. You can work full time, raise two kids on your own, and still be a decent triathlete. What that does for your self-esteem is pretty amazing.