Last weekend I was in New Hampshire for my third race of the season, Timberman 70.3. The first two races hadn’t been the triumphs I had hoped for, so I was fired up and ready to fire on all cylinders. I took a 17-mile detour in my first race back and my second race was cancelled before it started due to violent weather. Based on the way my season had gone so far, I honestly didn’t expect this race to go according to plan either. But I was prepared for whatever was to come and I was ready to tackle the day.
The IRONMAN. For most, it’s an incomprehensible feat — one that is not appealing in any way, shape, or form. For these people, the thought of spending most of the day physically exerting oneself sounds like a medieval form of torture. It’s utterly insane and completely unfathomable. When witnessing exhausted athletes crawl to the finish line during the telecast of the Hawaii Ironman on TV, these people respond with comments like, “why would anyone EVER do that?”