Running Towards the Sun

On the flight back to the States, a group of guys got on the plane. On the back of their jackets it read Israel Triathlon Team. It really got me thinking. I had been a pretty good athlete my entire life. I played competitive tennis, baseball. I was a good swimmer. Always one of the fastest kids, although I never raced anything longer than 50 yards.

I had heard of triathlons the same way most people did. The Ironman triathlon in Hawaii. It was on t.v. each year from the time I was 10 years old. I remember watching it with my dad once and thinking what kind of fools would swim a couple miles in the ocean, ride their bikes over a hundred miles, and then run a full 26.2 mile marathon? Nobody would do that. That’s just crazy.

After seeing these guys, I kept thinking about it though. I had done some mountain biking when I lived in Colorado after graduating from Wisconsin. I always had fun getting high and spending a few hours out there on my bike.

I had started running while I was in Israel. It was a great way for me to get away from everyone. I would smoke some weed, put on my sunglasses and head out for awhile.

When we got back to Wisconsin, I headed to the local bookstore to see if there were any books or magazines on triathlons. I got the last copy of Finding the Wheels Hub by Scott Tinley. I picked up a couple triathlon magazines too. It was the perfect book. It wasn’t all about the science of training, or proper nutrition. It was really about the psychology of doing triathlons. I read the book over and over.

A couple of weeks after I got back, I went to visit my friend Paul in Madison. I had picked up one of the local sports magazines and found out that there was going to be a triathlon in town over the weekend. It was an Olympic Distance Triathlon which is roughly a one mile swim, followed by a 25 mile bike ride and a 6 mile run. I hadn’t swum in years. I knew that I could ride a bike that far, and my running was good enough that I could survive for 6 miles.

I ended up borrowing a bike from another friend for the race. The start of the race was walking distance from my friends apartment. It was July, so the weather in Madison was perfect. When I got to the start area, I was the only one there without a wetsuit. I didn’t have goggles either. The water was freezing. After a few seconds, I realized that my arms weren’t ready to swim a mile doing the freestyle. I ended up doing the breaststroke. Some side-stroke. Even a little backstroke just to get around the course. I was the absolute last person to come in from the water. When I got to the transition area, I sat down in the Sun for a second just to warm up. I put on a t-shirt and my running shoes and jumped on my bike. I passed a few people over the 25 miles. When we got back, I headed out for the run. I made it through the whole thing in just over 3 hours.

The feeling of accomplishment was something I hadn’t felt in years. It was incredible. I was hooked. I went back to my buddies apartment and smoked up again, even though the natural high was pretty good on it’s own. I was now officially a triathlete!

After that race I headed back to Milwaukee where I was staying with my parents while figuring out what to do with my life. I was working at my cousin’s shoe store part-time during the week and training for another race whenever I had a chance. I usually spent the weekends partying in Madison. On one trip another friend of mine told me his brother had bought a triathlon bike but decided he wasn’t going to race anymore. I could have it for $500. He’d even throw in a helmet and a wetsuit. Best of all, I didn’t have to pay him for it right away. Too good of a deal to pass up.

I finished my second triathlon a couple of weeks later, using my new bike and wetsuit. I was still smoking up all of the time. It was fun to get high and go for a run or a bike ride with my headphones on. It kept me from being depressed. It was keeping me alive.

I soon realized that the longer the race, the more time I could spend training. It was a great excuse to stay out of the house. It was a way for me to stay high, without having to deal with anybody. I would smoke. Ride my bike. Stop along the way to smoke some more and keep on riding.