What Are You Going To Do?
Today is my birthday. I’m 35.
This Sunday at about 5am I will get up and drive to a park (with a lake) where a well meaning volunteer will take an indelible marker and write the number 35 on the back of my right calf. I’ll then proceed to swim with it on, bike with it on, and then run with it on. I’ll scrub really hard in the shower later in a futile attempt to get it off. But it will fade on it’s own.
The first time I did a triathlon and they scrawled my age on the back of my leg I thought, “Oh, how humiliating.” Now, I love it. I love it because I’m 35 years old and I’m finishing triathlons! I also love it because at my last triathlon in July someone smoked me on the bike with a 74 on the back of her leg! I was impressed as hell with her and let me tell you, after that I picked up the pace and ended with a PB (personal best) bike ride.
Simply put, it becomes exciting, and not just for the competitors who secretly pace themselves and race through a sea of those numbers. It’s also exciting for the spectators. It’s nearly impossible not to hoot and holler when you see someone with an 14 on the back of his leg get ready to swim in 65 degree ocean water without a wetsuit. It’s nearly impossible not to whoop at the top of your lungs when you see someone with a 74 on the back of her leg dismount her bike and start running without breaking stride. It’s nearly impossible not to shout “great job, keep it up” when you see someone with an 11 on the back of her leg keep running steadily for that last mile heading towards her first triathlon finish. It’s nearly impossible not to catch the fever of excitement of all those athletes (elite and not) pushing themselves, testing themselves, and ultimately exceeding their own expectations.
So, we’re doing 105.3 miles. What are you going to do? Why not sponsor us at 50 cents or a 1 dollar a mile? Or how about come watch us exceed everyone’s expectations including our own? Who knows, you could catch the fever.
Last year on her 67th birthday my mom completed a triathlon with me. She swore she had a great time, but that she was never doing it again. Ok, she’s 67, she’s allowed. But that means I’ve got 32 more years ’til I pass her.
Tags: triathlon
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Happy Birthday, Elizabeth! And good luck in this weekend’s tri!
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