Well, a long summer's worth of training is about to pay off. I have been busting my butt since March, sweating, pushing, going that extra little bit. This Sunday is the payoff. This will be the first competitive event I've entered in twenty years.
The Fat Guy Triathlon.
"Drink a six pack of beer. Eat a dozen donuts. Golf 18 holes. Nap for the rest of the afternoon."
Sure, it's Sharon, not Kona, but if I keep up the training at the pace I've been at it this year I'll easily qualify for the Big Island next year, the year after at the latest. Those Samoans will be spitting out their poi at the sound of my name.
It's a toss up for which is my best event. The six pack is my passion but I'm a natural on the donuts. I expect to be amongst the leaders in my age group in both categories. The golf, however, is pure work for me. I don't have a smooth swing, my drives run out of gas within yards and my short game comes up short.
I just finished a 'brick.'. A brick is a training term for when you practice linking two events together. I did a nice, easy half dozen Boston Creme then eased into my Transition Zone. I changed out of my sandals, put on my cleats and played a nice par three "Executive Course." I had hopes of breaking par for the first time in my life when I drove six inches from the cup on the fifth hole but I got a case of the yips and bogeyed the hole. I sincerely hope to do better on Sunday.
Sitting on the deck now, icing my knees, enjoying a 'non-training' beer. My coach recommends chocolate milk after a training session. I'm compromising with a chocolate porter. He'll probably tell me I'm over training on my strong suit but F him. I'm the one sitting on my deck wearing spandex bibbed shorts, no shirt and sweating buckets, enduring the horn blasts and the middle finger salutes from my neighbors. I DESERVE this beer!
Anyways, wish me luck on Sunday.
PTN