I signed up for an Ironman Triathlon. My parents don’t understand why I signed up for it. While at first I could understand their concern, lately I realized that it was more than that. They really just don’t understand why I want to do it.
I’ve been running marathons for a few years now, and have done fairly well, although I haven’t finished one that hasn’t absolutely kicked my butt. However, I don’t find marathons a real challenge anymore. Not because they are not a worthy challenge for me, but because all the work that is needed in order to complete one, I did when I was in college. Sure, I have to put in a few miles leading to the race, but there’s no nervousness in wondering whether I can finish. Sure, I could concentrate on dropping my time, but there is something about just trying to get to the finish line that is appealing. It’s a bit more primal than trying to see who can get there first.
But marathons are child’s play in comparison to an Ironman. The Ironman is different animal. It starts with a 2.4 miles swim, then 112 miles bike, and then a marathon (26.2 miles) running. I’m getting back into swimming shape, I’m getting into biking shape for the first time, and for the first time in a while, I think I’m going to be really challenged mentally.
To understand an endurance athlete, I suppose you must understand that it’s not really about the sport or time. It’s about pushing the limits to fulfill an insatiable curiosity: the one that wonders what I’m really made of.
