Last October I got the crazy idea* in my head that I could be a triathlete, meaning I could enter and finish one of those swim, bike and run distance races.
I read an article in Men’s Health called: Anyone Can Be a Triathlete.
And I met a nurse on one of my Dominican trips who despite, being in her sixties, often entered triathlons.
I learned that not all triathlons were the 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and then run a full length marathon that the classic Hawaiian Ironman Triathlon they used to show on ABC’s Wide World of Sports was when I was a kid.
Now you can enter a sprint triathlon that is only a 1/4 to 1/2 mile swim, 12 mile bike, and a 5k or 3.1 mile run.
Triathlete — I liked the sound of that.
Not impossible, but still a challenge given I couldn’t run 1/4 mile at the time without hacking and spitting and having to stop and bend over with my hands on my knees, and that I hadn’t been on a bike for almost forty years when I over the handlebars, knocked myself out and was transported to the hospital in the back of an old Cadillac ambulance. I do swim pretty well.
Anyway, I’ve been training since October, although I didn’t start riding a bike until April because I first wanted to prove I could finish a 5K road race, which I did, before I invested the money in a bike.
Last week I entered my first triathlon. The good news was I finished. The bad — I was pretty far back.
* Past crazy ideas include wanting to become a paramedic, a poker player, a writer, a Spanish speaker. Not all my crazy ideas have come to fuition, including wanting to become a black belt Kung-Fu Tae Kwando Ninja Master.