WELL, I TRIED.

After 12 weeks of training, spending most of my waking hours either working out, napping, or obsessing over the training schedule, I have made a decision. 

I will not be racing in Ironman Boulder. 

Writing that statement brings tears to my eyes, but also peace to my heart.  The decision did not come lightly, but I believe it’s the right one.  For the record, there is no other life-shattering issue going on that is pulling my focus away from Ironman.  No injury is preventing me from training. Everything else in my life is great.  It’s just Ironman.

Here’s a little background.  Since beginning my training, I’ve had 3 colds in as many months.  More than with any other training season, my joints are taking more of a beating than I can bear.  I have competed in 3 triathlons and a marathon in the last 9 months.  I would have no summer outside of training.  All of these things have been building up to a painful realization.

I find no joy in triathlon like I once did.  I feel like I’m shackled to it.  I used to love training, but I don’t now.  And I found that there is nothing in my life that says I NEED to compete in this race and/or at this distance.  When I signed up for this race, I leaped (as I often do) headlong into it before checking to see if I should.  Ever since training began, I have been fighting with some wrong decisions.  Ironman Boulder was not the race I should have done…if there is such a thing.

The decision came this past Friday while out for a 3-hour ride following one of the hardest parts of the bike course, Carter Lake.  After about an hour and a half, I hated my bike and I resented my training.  Everything hurt, head to toe.  But the tears that came were not from physical discomfort, but rather from the realization that something had to give. 

If I can’t handle a 3-hour ride, how can I expect to handle a 6+-hour ride?  I’m only halfway through my training season, and I’m sick of this.  I’m not having fun.  I’m giving up most of my summer…actually most of my LIFE for something I’m not sure I even want anymore…then it hit me.  One question floated up in my head accompanied by two images.  Which one of these is more important?  Soren or a 140.6 sticker and bragging rights?

A friend of mine once said to me, if it’s good for me, it’s good for Soren.  In this case, there are two sides to that statement.  On the one hand, it’s good that I’m pursuing my own goals, and that I’m working hard to do so.  Soren sees the example I set.  However, in order to effectively train for Ironman, I had to sign up Soren for several weeks worth of Summer camp.  I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that I was shipping him off so I could do my thing.  It just didn’t seem fair to him.  Is Ironman good for me?  Maybe.  Is it good for Soren?   Not if it means he takes a backseat in my life.  This moment, this realization made the decision for me. 

With 10 miles left to go in my ride the other day, I started weeping.  I’m not an Ironman, and I’m not sure I ever will be.  But I’d rather be a good mom than an Ironman…ever.

When I got back to my car, I called two people: My best friend and my mom.  Both gave me words of encouragement, and said it was okay to walk away.  Tears of grief punctuated both phone calls.  I felt like a quitter.  I felt like I was letting myself and everyone else down.  If you are reading this, I’m talking about you.  Some of you have gone beyond reading the blog to signing up to volunteer at the race, or train with me, or watch Soren while I went for a ride.  Your support, your cheers, and your admiration (in spite of thinking I’ve lost my mind) kept me going this long. 

I’m sad.  I’m disappointed.  But I’m also relieved.  I woke up this morning WANTING to go for a run instead of feeling like I HAVE to.  I didn’t go running, but it was nice to know that the “want to” was back.

So what’s next?  I have lots of options.  I can withdraw from Ironman Boulder and never look back.  I can defer to another race, either 70.3 or a full IM.  I can do nothing and not show up, earning my first DNF.  I still want to race, and I probably will before the end of the year.  I’m not sure yet what I will do.  Today I will grieve the loss of this dream and rest.  I’ll take some time to repair my body and know that I’ve made the right choice.

So there it is.  I have phone calls to make, camps and hotel rooms to cancel, and eventually decide my next race.  I’m not giving up on triathlon or running, only racing on August 3^rd, 2014.  The mission statement at the right says there will be victory.  I think I can declare victory here, because I'm seeing something more important.  It's not about a finish line.  Am I strong enough to finish?  Maybe…we may never know.  But this is not about me.  I think it takes greater strength to walk away from something in which one is so invested in order to cultivate more important things.  She says jokingly, I've had some bad relationships, but this one is really the worst.

Thanks to all of you who have shown support through this process.  The journey to Ironman has come to a…Rest stop…Because I don’t know yet if it’s over.  I’m going to camp out here for a while.  I’m not convinced the journey is over, but I’m also not sure if I’ll continue toward the 140.6 destination.  I don’t like to say never, so I won’t about Ironman.  Maybe someday, but then again, maybe not.  Either way, it’s all about what’s best for me and my family.

With all my gratitude,

Heather

TOUR DE…OH NEVERMIND.

Ugh. The bike.

First let's do some math.  The Ironman race breaks down like this:
2.4 mile swim
112 mile bike
26.2 mile run

Percentage-wise, the bike accounts for 80% of the mileage, and at least half of the time in an Ironman event (well for me, anyway…I run slow).  Cost-wise, unless you have a backyard pool to maintain, the bike is the most expensive discipline, with bikes starting at $1000 and ranging up to $10k for a really super fast rocket sled that the judges will still allow onto the course without getting DQ'd.  Not only is the bike itself pricey, but it's care, feeding and maintenance add to the tab.  For example, did you know that you need to replace your bike helmet every couple of years, because the foam fatigues over time and won't protect you in a crash?  Yeah.

All of this being said, none of it has anything to do with my disdain for the bike.  Of the three legs in triathlon, the bike leg is my least favorite.  Here are just a few reasons why.

The position -- unlike cycling events, Triathlon is a "time trial" event.  In cycling races, the pelaton is a cluster of riders drafting off of each other and jockeying for position in order to conserve energy for a sprint to the finish.  Triathlon doesn't allow for this due to the previous leg of the swim.  Drafting is illegal in most triathlons.  Because of this, the athlete must become "thin to the wind" and crouch into the Aero position, sort of like this:

Look like it hurts?  Yep.  Anyone who has ever ridden a high-performance bike will not soon forget the feeling.  In addition, the aerobars force you over the front wheel, the constant pedaling wreaks havoc on the hips, and the bent over position is literally a pain in the back.  

The technology -- Yes, I know the bicycle has been around for a long time, and there isn't much to it.  but ask me to change a bike tire and I break into a cold sweat.  In fact, that is usually the subject of my pre-race nightmares…getting a flat.  And that is the easiest thing to fix!  Cleaning the chain?  Why?  Seat height?  Gear ratios?  I don't know…It's enough I ride the silly thing!

Falling off -- This has happened.  Although I told the story in an earlier post, it still has me nervous.  Like the serious triathlete, I have clip-in shoes. Which means I have to unclip before stopping.  I'm not the most coordinated person in the world, so let's just say…that doesn't always happen in the order in which one would avoid injury to body and ego.

The Ditch-slap -- (related to the above statement)  You know that moment when you lose your concentration for a moment and you trip over something in the sidewalk, or run into a door…no?  Okay, that's just me, then.  Anyway, when you are traveling on a two-wheeled vehicle at 30 miles per hour and that happens…you may find a pothole or that weird crack in the road that catches the tire just right.  Speaking from experience, that doesn't end well.  And I'm not the most focused person in the world.

The Off-Season -- Between October and March, when the weather is unpredictable at best, snow and cold force the bike onto the hamster wheel.  It's not that it's boring…it's a great way to catch up on Netflix…It's just hot.  Even in the winter, it's hot.  No breeze blowing by your face, no change of scenery.  It's a brilliant day when I can finally get outside.  Soon, now.

The Mileage -- 112 miles on the bike.  Do I really need to say more?  Actually, yes I do.  Because it's not just the 112 miles on the bike during the race, it's hours and hours and hours and hours of saddle time in training.  6 weeks into my training season, I've spent 75% of my hours on the bike.

It's a Dirty Job -- With my fair skin, I have to wear sunscreen.  The sunscreen at 18 miles an hour is like flypaper.  Not only do I get bugs in my teeth, but all over my arms and legs, too…and then there is the dirt.  I could be riding on a perfectly calm day on a relatively clean road, and any traffic that goes by kicks up dirt and dust.  After a 4 hour bike ride, the sunscreen, dirt and bugs accumulate to a thick layer of shmutz that a quick shower doesn't remove.  If I don't scrub down past the epidermis, I'm still dirty.

Cyclists -- There are those bike lovers out there that say to me, "hey, why don't we ride out Death's Wish Canyon and we'll ride 70 miles straight uphill with 10,000 feet of elevation gain!  Doesn't that sound like fun?!?!"  At first, I'm dumbstruck, because I'm not sure if they are serious.  When I find out they are, I have 10 thoughts running through my head, most of them unfit to print.  Finally, when I am urged to speak, I only mutter a weak…"Yeah.  Ok.  Um…No."

Road Rage -- This issue alone is worthy of a whole separate post.  Unfortunately, many drivers not only do not "share the road," but there are reports of acts of road rage against cyclists.  None of these have happened to me, and luckily, I live close enough to Boulder…a very bike friendly city.  I've heard of bottles and nails being thrown at bikers from car windows, and even a cyclist getting run down by an angry driver.  Unfortunately for the cycling community, though, there are a few riders out there who don't share the road either.  I actually have a greater rant against those folks, because they ruin it for the rest of us.  By the way, wear a helmet.  Use a bike light at night, and obey the traffic laws just as you would in a car.  Oh, and don't ride your bike on the city sidewalk.

Location -- There's no decent place to ride in my neighborhood, so I generally need to mount the bike on top of the car and drive 45 minutes.

Bike shorts -- They are like a sausage casings with a diaper inside.

Bike shoes -- make my toes fall asleep, and make me walk funny.

Bike helmets -- no hope of decent hair for the rest of the day…

Alright, that may be more than a few reasons.  Yes, the bike is my weakest leg of the three, and it's also the one in which I have most improved in the last 12 months.  There was really no other place to go but up, though, so there's that.  I'm faster, I'm more comfortable, I climb hills better than I ever have.  

Here are the positive aspects of the bike leg.  

Wind -- When coming out of the water then getting on a bike, there is a chill that you want to keep with you for the rest of the day.  Think about it.  You are out of the water, stripping off the wetsuit and hopping on a bike soaking wet so you can ride in little more than a bathing suit at 20 miles per hour.  I welcome this feeling, because when I'm on the sunbathed run course hours later, I try to tap into that feeling.

Fitness -- Riding my bike has made me a faster runner.  Because I try to maintain quick legs on the bike, I can bring that to my run.  

Cross-Training -- Especially when I'm training for a running race like my previous marathon, I'll mix it up by spending some time on the bike.  Much less pounding on my joints, even though my rear hurts when I'm done.

Being outside -- There is no more amazing (and sometimes terrifying) feeling than zooming down a hill on your own power.  

Okay, so I have a hard time coming up with nice things to say about the bike.  I don't HATE the bike.  If that were the case, I wouldn't be a triathlete.  I just have a lot of angst about the bike.  I just hope I don't get a flat on race day…or fall.

CHLORINE: THE BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS

Ask the majority of triathletes which is their least favorite leg in the sport, and they will tell you the swim.  When I talk about the swim portion with my fellow trainees, the reactions range from distaste to outright disdain for open water swimming.  The thought of the swim, I believe, has even kept high level athletes from even attempting triathlon.  Many runners use cycling as a cross-training workout, but ask them to add one more sport and they will shudder.  Then there is me.

As a kid, I learned how to swim before I could walk.  It came naturally to me, and I joined the city swim team by Kindergarten.  Accumulating a shoebox full of ribbons from meets, my dad helped me develop a love for the water.  At the time, my dad was the coach for the city swim team, as well as the High School teams.  Many of my early memories take place at some pool somewhere.

Well, as with anything, life happens.  I found other interests.  By middle school, I was no longer swimming in order to spend more time with music.  In High School, I returned to swimming competitively.  Practice was almost every day after school, and even at the darkest hour of the morning for the Varsity team.  I specialized in Freestyle, Backstroke and springboard Diving.  My fastest 100-meter Free clocked in at 59 seconds (pause for a moment to think about that).  This still stuns me, and it’s a feat I’ve never been able to replicate.  I was frequently selected for the Backstroke leg of the Relays.  When I was a kid, I used the be one of the fastest swimmers, but the time out of the pool reduced my speed to being on the bubble to make Varsity.  I was one of the fastest swimmers on JV, but one of the slowest in Varsity.  I never made State, and after two years on the team, I got burned out, having over-committed myself to music, theater and swimming in 1990.  Don’t even think about how long ago that was.  I dropped swimming out of my schedule once again in favor of music.

I don’t know how different my life would look now had I stuck with swimming my whole life, but I know there is a reason.  My life looks the way it does, and I believe I am exactly where I need to be.  But every once in a while I wonder…how far could I have gone…

Since High School, swimming was solely recreational.  I would swim laps when I had the opportunity, the motivation and a pool nearby.  Swimming came in fits and starts, and there was always something else going on.  Then somewhere along the line in 2004, I had heard about the Danskin Triathlon Series, where an all female field provided an environment of positive, almost non-competitive support for the triathlon newcomer.  I thought I would give it a shot, knowing that the ½ mile swim would be the least of my worries.

Fast forward through 10 years and as many triathlons.  Today, my swim stroke is not what you would see in the Olympics.  At one point, I was called “lazy legs.”  Competitive lap swimming requires ridiculous kick speed – which I did not have.  But open water tri swimming does not put as much emphasis on the kick, which is perfect for Lazy Legs.

The swim is still my favorite leg of the sport.  So few triathletes feel this way.  Because of the aforementioned history, I like to say that I “backed into” triathlon.  Running comes naturally to most kids, and learning to ride a bike is a rite of passage.  But not everyone learns how to swim a decent front crawl.  This is where I differ from many of my fellow triathletes.  Most of my training partners…putting it nicely…tolerate the swim.  Similar to how I tolerate the bike.  I always look forward to a swim workout, and to dragging my training partners to the pool (you know who you are).

 

So when I look at my training plan, I get excited about the swim workouts…until I read them.  You see, my training plans are well researched, carefully crafted works that are designed for the “average joe.”  Well the “Average Joe” has some swim experience, but not a lifetime of competition.  The “Average Joe” is likely a strong cyclist and a fast runner.  I am NOT Average Joe.  In the training plan, swims start with 1800 meters (think 4 lengths per 100).  I regularly complete a minimum of 2400 meters, even in the off-season.  So there is already a minor flaw in the plan…not ENOUGH volume (Okay, Heather.  Really?).  Problem #2: Warm-ups are almost non-existent in the “triathlete’s” plan.  As with anything, a swim warm up is crucial.  I spend 10 minutes poolside doing arm circles and stretches before I even get in the water.  Then I spend 800 meters of easy swimming before I begin a main set.  And by this time, most of my friends have had enough.

I have developed my own take on the triathlete’s training plan, which includes a book of about 100 different workouts.  This book is great for preventing boredom and mixing up the training.  Whenever the “Master Plan” calls for a swim, I disregard the author’s prescription, and refer to my little swim workout book.

The worst part, at least for me, is when I lose track of what lap I’m on.  When staring down at a blue line for an hour, my mind tends to wander.  I fall into a zen-like rhythm as the laps pass by, which is nice.  Then somewhere in the middle of a 500 meter set…um, was that length 8 or 10?  Dangit.  The second worst…kickboard.  Lazy Legs doesn’t like the kickboard.  I used to cheat and wear swim fins claiming that the fins will help me when I teach scuba.  Yeah, well I have size 9 ½ feet.  I don’t really need fins.

One of the major differences between competitive lap swimming and a triathlon swim is length of time.  Most indoor events range from 50 to 500 meters.  The shortest common tri distance is 800 meters.  The triathlete is less interested in power than they are in endurance.  Think of it this way.  Running a 100-meter dash is very different than running a marathon.

I love swimming.  Every workout is hard, even when I’m going for an easy endurance swim.  Until I gained a healthy respect and desire to run, I used to say that my favorite triathlons were the ones when I was done after the swim.  Unlike most triathletes, I’m not worried about a 2.4 miles swim.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/linnea-gregg/2014/01/37-things-only-swimmers-know/#HYYPptshpDaaYMoi.01

37 Things Only Swimmers Know

JAN. 29, 2014 By LINNEA GREGG

1. There are always at least two things hanging up to dry somewhere in your house/apartment, and they are a swimsuit and a towel.

2. People frequently ask if you are tired because it looks like you have bags under your eyes. Those are just goggle marks.

3. Literally every muscle in your body is used during your workout and it. feels. amazing.

4. When you’re underwater, the rest of the world gets blocked out. There’s only you, the movement of your body, and the freedom to let your mind wander.

5. … Despite the feeling of Zen you get from #4, on occasion you wish there were something to occupy your brain with as you swim. (Underwater iPod, anyone?)

6. But being truly alone with your thoughts can give you the opportunity to solve all of your problems, plan our your day down to the minute, discover the cure for cancer, etc.

7. You understand that swimming a mile is very, very different from running one.

8. The scent of chlorine never completely leaves your skin.

9. You have permanent tan lines, but they’re not the cool kind that you get from going on vacation.

10. Speedo.

11. Deciding to work out when you have a cold is worth at least five minutes of serious thought.

12. Abdominal muscles/strength are a point of pride.

13. There is one brand/style of goggles that you swear were made to fit your face perfectly.

14. Trying to get into your swimsuit when it’s still damp can almost take away your desire to work out. (Almost.)

15. “Fast,” “medium,” and “slow,” can be arbitrary labels for the lanes. When the pool is crowded one should try to follow these signs, but if it’s not – why waste an empty lane?

16. You learned, the hard way, that you should never leave your swim cap somewhere that will heat up for an extended period of time.

17. … Because you actually use a swim cap.

18. There’s a fine, fine line between leaky goggles and a massive headache.

19. Instead of 1, 2, 3, it’s 25, 50, 75…

20. Your cardio is also your strength training.

21. “Going to the pool” or “going for a swim” means something different to you than it does to most people.

22. It’s only cold when you first jump in.

23. Your hair stylist has uttered the phrase “Your hair is beautiful but it’s so damaged by all that chlorine.”

24. Working out feels better when you can’t tell that you’re sweating.

25. You have an opinion on circle swim vs. splitting the lane.

26. The line “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink” from The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner resonates with you on a spiritual level.

27. Baby powder exists so that the experience of pulling a silicone swim cap over your head doesn’t totally suck.

28. You have to bite your tongue when a non-swimmer thinks they’d be pretty fast in the pool because they work out or have a significant amount of muscle mass.

29. Sports-related injuries are an unfamiliar territory for you, because there is no stress placed on your bones or muscles during your workout.

30. You’ve planned your workout around strange and specific hours because the pool you use is only open or available at certain times.

31. And a trip to the gym isn’t so simple, because all of the equipment, dressing, and undressing that you need to effectively complete your workout.

32. Swimming in a lane with a total stranger teaches you how to share…

33. … but you still prefer having your own lane. It is a rare and exciting luxury.

34. There’s an art and etiquette to passing your lane partner, or being passed.

35. Passing or being passed also has the potential to make or break your mood during your workout.

36. You have regular lane partners or lane neighbors, but you may not necessarily know them by name. Still, you respect them and feel a connection based on the recognition of dedication.

37. Land workouts are great, but there is nothing quite like the way your body feels after a swim.

image – Shutterstock

TODAY…RIGHT NOW.

The Spring thaw has begun, the Olympics are half over, and my toenails are growing back.  Although the lull between the marathon and Ironman training has been put to good use (lots of skiing, and getting over a huge cold), it's time to enter into another season.

So it begins.  Today is my first official day of training for Ironman Boulder.  It's the first day out of 168 days. 24 weeks from today, it's all over.  Hundreds of hours of training stand between me and reaching my goal.  There are friends of mine who are all doing the same race, but each training plan is as unique as their fingerprint.

This event has been on my calendar since mid-November, when I purchased an online training plan.  Through the website TrainingPeaks.com, I got a 24 week plan geared toward women who have some experience with triathlon, but is entering their first Ultra-distance event.  The plan includes a 100 page training guide that covers nutrition, training techniques and race day tips.  It starts with 5 to 6 hours of training a week for a few weeks, then quickly gains momentum.  By summer, I'll be clocking 14 to 16 hours a week until mid-July.  The taper…well, let's not get ahead of myself, so ask me how I feel about the taper when it gets here.

Six months seems like a long time to train for one event.  Maybe it is, but this is uncharted territory.  I don't know what kind of preparation I will need to bring to the start on August 3rd.  I figure, 6 months gets me going well enough that when I end up with some cold my kid brings home, I still have a base upon which to build.  I also have a huge vacation planned.  My family and I are spending a week at Walt Disney World.  Let's just say, that I think Ironman may be easier.  I also would like to have some semblance of life outside of training.

Last year, I crammed 3 races into 5 months of training.  This year, due to budget constraints and lessons learned from last summer, I do not have any more races planned between now and Ironman.  Although I would love to do a century ride, the local schedule doesn't line up with mine, and traveling to an out of state race is out of the question after Phoenix, since I need so save a bit of scratch for the Mouse.

What am I doing differently this training season?  Well, lots of swim/bike/run.  Duh.  But also, I'm adding in strength training.  There are different schools of thought around this.  One idea is not to waste energy on strength training, as the sheer volume of triathlon training is already taxing.  The flip side, though, is weight training that is specific to the muscles and endurance building improves triathlon performance.  I'm talking light weights, lots of core work and high reps.  I also secretly love strength training.  Whether or not it will actually improve my performance, isn't as important reducing the risk of injury.  Basically, the stronger I am, the more I can take.

Another thing I want to do differently is eat better.  Actually, I think I'm eating better anyway recently, but I find my self being very conscious of my fuel intake.  Nutrition is considered the fourth discipline in triathlon.  Well, I have three words.  Girl Scout Cookies.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Lastly, I'm going to make an attempt at Heart Rate Training.  I may have to devote a whole blog over this issue.  In short, my heart rate data does not reflect the common "220 minus your age" maximum heart rate.  I have always struggled with navigating the data I do get, coupled with the fact that I have a hard time keeping a chest strap in place around my smallish ribcage.  But, I'm going to make an attempt at gathering this data.  It just makes me crazy.  Stay tuned for more on this issue.

Ultimately, my goal is to cross the finish line.  At all.  A respectable finish time, and my ideal goal is based on my 70.3 time of 6:15.  The general rule of thumb is, we double that time (12:30) and add an hour.  I would be beside myself if I finish Ironman in 13 hours and 30 minutes.   So what will that look like?

Well, anyone who knows me, knows my swim will land in the to 10% of my age group.  I'm looking at my 2.4 mile swim finish of 1:10.  As I'm not competitive enough to dial in my transitions, I'm hoping for sub-5 minute T1.  Then the bike.  I have no idea what 112 miles on the bike will feel like, but I'm shooting for an average pace of 17.5 mph.  This gives me a bike time of 6 hours 24 minutes.  Yes, it hurts to even think about it.  T2 has always been quick for me, but again, shooting for sub-5 minutes.  If I am to hit my goal of 13:30, my 26.2 mile run needs to come in around 5 hours and 46 minutes.  Give or take.

So here we go.  I want to thank you all for the support you have shown me so far.  It gets hard from here, so all of the "Atta girls" are huge.  I'm looking down a long road.  Some of it will be great.  Some of it…not so much.  By the way, you might want to buy stock in Advil, Gatorade and Chocolate Milk. I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now.  Scared?  Nervous?  Indifferent?  Excited?  Maybe all of it.  I almost want to say something inspiring and thought provoking…but, I got nuthin.  I guess, even though I have a well researched training plan and lots of motivation, I'm looking at this as a "one day at a time" process.  If you were to view my training plan, I have at least one workout 6 days a week already on the calendar.  I pour over this plan, moving workouts here and there in an effort to maximize the training. But today…right now...it feels like, "one down, 167 to go."

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN…THE OLYMPICS

To me, nothing is more inspiring than watching the Olympics.  I love both seasons when they come around, whether Summer or Winter.  The Summer games show athletic prowess in the true spirit of the Ancient Greek philosophy, but the Winter Games provide an additional element: danger.  In almost every Winter Olympic event (figure skating and curling I the only exceptions that come to mind), helmets are required.  Does that tell you something?  Frankly, going 90 miles an hour down a sheet of ice on a tiny little sled…face first…speaks of something not quite right in the head.  Oh, and then they call it SKELETON.  But dang is it fun to watch.

Although we are only a few days into the Sochi games, I am reminded of past performances…the ones that really stand out.  Scott Hamilton, Bonnie Blair, Picabo Street and the USA Hockey teams.  These folks were not only in their peak physical condition, but they made people stand up and take notice of their sport for a couple of weeks.  

But then I think about those that made headlines in other ways.  Remember Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards?  He was the British Ski Jump participant who turned heads by the fact that he came in, not just dead last, but by a significant margin dead last.  But I remember his goofy look and winning smile just as much.  He knew he wouldn't win a medal.  No one had that expectation of him.  He is the epitome of the Olympic spirit…that for so many athletes that participate in the games, just making it in is the accomplishment.  For them, they just want to be called an Olympian.

And what about Dan Jansen?  If there is a role model for me from any games, it is this guy.  For more of his story (in case you don't know it already) check out this video http://www.youtube.com/watchv=wPYiMekC6jk.  This guy had trained like a machine for years and years and years.  He participated in 4 Olympics!  As a thought experiment, think about where you were in your life during the Salt Lake City Olympics.  Yeah.  That was a while ago, huh?  Now imagine an athletic career lasting that long.  For those of you my age, do your knees work just as well as they did 12 years ago?  Right.  So this is Dan Jansen who, although he was favored to win gold in every games, only has one.  

Dan Jansen is someone I consider an "everyman."  Bad stuff happened at exactly the worst time…happens to all of us.  He had some really bad days…happens to all of us.  He felt like he wasn't even "all there" for some of them…wait, you, too?  He was distracted, frustrated, mourning…in effect, living in a human body with human emotions at a time when he was expected to be superhuman.  I admire his fortitude.  I admire his real-ness.  It is unfathomable to skate faster than humanly possible the day after your sister dies.  But he did.  And he fell.  Then he got up again.  Then he did it four years later.  Then he fell.  Then he got (are you sensing the theme here?) up again…and so on.  Until he got that gold…the fourth time around.  I don't know if he feels this way, but I see it as not being as much about the gold as it was about proving to himself that he could actually accomplish what he set out to do in the first place.  He wouldn't give up his dream until he achieved it.

Dan Jansen never quit, even after a slew of awful days, and less than perfect race events.  I am not an Olympian.  Never will be.  But I know what a bad day feels like, and I know what it feels like to just go out and get in a workout no matter how crappy my life is at the moment.  I know what it is like to train through the pain -- not physical pain, that is something different.  Working through the emotional agony of life-altering events through physical exercise.  DJ didn't use the excuse of his circumstances to justify his performance, but no one would begrudge him that if he did.  

So I wonder what that is, exactly.  What kind of internal drive brings that?  It's not just a don't quit attitude, stubbornness, or pressure from oneself, family, or country.  I think it's also about seeing yourself years later, looking back on the moment right now.  What if you have to say to yourself, "if I had only…"  Jansen showed up and tried.  Didn't go the way he wanted it to.  But instead of quitting before he started, he tried, failed, got up again, repeat.  As far as I'm concerned, he needn't have any regrets for suiting up and showing up.   

The lesson I take from his example is this: between now and Ironman, I'm going to have some bad days.  This is a fact.  It may even be a bad day on August 3rd (God, I pray that it isn't).  But I will suit up, show up, and do the best I can with what I have been given at that moment.  There are no medals in my future except the ones they give to everyone else who crosses the finish line.  There are no sponsorship deals, book contracts or news interviews for me.  But that isn't why I'm doing this, and I don't think that's why Jansen did it either.  I want to try my hardest at a sport I love.  

Hannah Kearney, Moguls medalist, recently referred to her relationship with skiing as her "boyfriend."  When we have significant others in our lives, we love them and do so much to be with them.  But to quote Billy Joel, "you may love 'em forever, but you won't like 'em all of the time."  I feel like that sometimes with triathlon.  Jansen probably felt that way with speed skating.  But, like with all good relationships, you figure out what the problem is, work on it, push through it, and hopefully get stronger.  Dan got stronger, and he has Lillehammer gold to prove it.  However, even without it, he's still a champion in my mind.

Before the Olympics officially started, Heidi Kloser sustained a knee injury in a mogul training run.  Her games were done before they ever started.  In tears, she asked her parents if they would still think of her as an Olympian.  What I found interesting is that she marched with her teammates -- on crutches -- in the next day's Opening Ceremonies.  I think everyone in the world would have answered her question with a "yes," but more importantly, I think she believes that she is indeed an Olympian.  I don't know, but in my mind, nothing matters more than whether or not you believe in yourself.

I am a triathlete, because I love to swim, bike and run, but I also believe I am an Ironman.  I just have to cross a finish line to prove it to myself.