THOUGHTS AFTER A TRIATHLON

A genuine life experience cannot be complete unless you see both sides of it. Perpetual success without defeat devalues success. Joy cannot be fully realized unless one knows what pain is. And so, my first triathlon experience is best described as a complete experience, an assembly of different emotions and learnings.

I have documented in detail what exactly happened during the first ten minutes of the race and the realization that the race wasn’t about the race(refer to the NZ blog). Months of preparation and anticipation vanished as I was pulled out of the water by the police rescue boat. The disappointment and disbelief was so very real, even as I exited the patrol station, downcast. To my surprise, I was greeted by my best man. He didn’t have to say much; just a pat on the shoulder, but he was THERE. He was joined shortly by the rest of my support, their faces mirroring back the obvious disappointment that I was feeling. When I let them know that I could still finish the rest of the race, immediately they all encouraged me to go on!

Of course, when one has a chance to reflect on a situation, the situation itself seems to get minimized over time. Maybe if I had hung on to the lifeguard’s kayak a while longer I would have been rested enough to continue. Maybe if I started my swim closer to the buoys, I may have avoided the jungle of seaweed that started this whole mess. Maybe if I did a proper breast stroke, instead of keeping my head above water, I would have propelled myself further. MAYBE I GAVE UP TOO EASILY. One thing I know for certain: they are right when they say that, when looking into the eyes of death, one loses control of all bodily functions. I’m sad to say that I may have single-handedly doubled the E. coli count of the fairly clean water that day. It was a genuine fear and panic that I felt, something that I thought I had completely conquered through months of training in the pool. My mind froze and that led to my body freezing. Those things I still remember very clearly, although the intensity of those feelings seem to be fading as each day passes.

I have found extra motivation to want to continue training for the next triathlon (which will probably be next year). Perhaps this humbling experience is good because it would be arrogant of me to expect that I could prepare for an extreme sport with minimal guidance and my own self-created methodology. I realize that there is a long way to go and am too self-competitive to give up on this sport that easily.

So, what makes this experience a complete one? Well, for one thing, I’m still alive. But I’m alive now as a slightly different person, one who has been humbled by this shortfall and who has gained an even greater respect for the open water. I’m reminded that I have not achieved true mental discipline as it seemed like I caved in pretty quickly when facing extreme adversity. I’m also reminded about my personal resilience when it comes to responding to bad situations: it’s a good feeling (and this is a piece of knowledge that I can tuck away for future use) to know that I am capable of picking myself up, dusting off the wounds and still perform the best that I can (the other 2 events had pretty competitive results). I was overwhelmed (and still am as well wishes continue to pour in) by the support of those who came down to watch me race (and chose to stick around despite being poured on like mad). Amazingly, I have friends from 3 different circles/community show up!

While reflecting further, I know why I was not able to complete the swim. I can’t blame it on choppy water or sinister seaweed. Whereas with biking and running, I know how hard I can push myself, where that imaginary line is that if I were to push a hair further, my body would shut down. Knowing where this line is important, because then I know when I can pull back. This then allows me to properly manage my body’s store of energy as well as regulate breathing/heat management. With swimming, I have no clue where the limits are. I’m too nervous to push myself beyond a casual workout for fear that it would screw up my breathing and set the whole panic process in motion. At the same time, going casually just doesn’t cut it in open (and somewhat choppy) water. Thus, I found myself in this state of confusion that my body is not used to and for which my mind became very resistant to. I’m positive that I don’t have very good swimming technique, and this lack of efficiency would have also contributed to the breakdown.

I only wish I had more of an appetite after the race. We all went to this really cool sushi house on Queen Street and, although my eyes were wide as saucers, my stomach couldn’t take much before threatening to quickly eject anything else that was coming down! Oh well, this experience has set the bar for future experiences. Mother Nature 1. Me 0.