Have any of you seen the movie ‘The 300’? It is about 300 Spartan warriors that hold off the entire Persian army because of their blindingly huge biceps and amazing skills with a bow-staff. I digress. Anywho, if you’ve seen the movie, you recognize that Hollywood had to hunt far and long to find 300 guys that were, a: that incredibly ripped and, b: smart enough to memorize consecutive sentences of three words or more.
Further, there is no emotional investment in going to the pool. Especially if you hang out in the splash pad with your 3, 5 and 7 year old. Conflicting emotions arise when you are a quarter of a mile out into a reservoir, and you can’t see the bottom, and you just inhaled a bunch of water, and a fish just swam by your leg (I hope it was a fish), AND the overly competitive doofis in front of you just kicked your eye goggles sideways. That’s never happened to me in the splash pad before! As such, I admit to having been a tiny bit afraid (i.e. mind numbingly terrified). 
I didn’t know the meaning of the word pain until confronted with a one-mile, 6% grade hill during the biking event. On the other hand, it was a completely different brand of fear that I felt when I had to turn around and ride back down said hill at 40 mph, both brakes fully locked, my fat carcass proving that acceleration IS an extreme amount of force (what would have happened if I had wrecked) divided by mass (my fat a$$ on a road bike going mach 3 down a hill while trying to keep things ‘straight’ and ‘steady’ enough to ‘hit’ the tiny little plastic mat that was placed over the top of the cattle guard at the bottom of the freakin’ hill!).
And we haven’t even come to the best part yet. I tell you what, people - you haven’t lived until you’ve had the opportunity to get hypothermia, bike into Mordor, then follow it up with a relaxing jog in 90 degree weather ALL IN THE SAME DAY! Beautiful! I’ve never felt closer to the Lord in my entire life. Probably because I was near death several times (by the way, I didn’t see a bright light at the end of a tunnel, I saw a deep fried, chocolate dipped funnel cake – liars!).
What really amazes me about this whole event is how well Debbie did. She had a great swim time, killed the bike part of it, ran the run, then turned around and ran it with me, thereby qualifying my wife (in my eyes, anyway) as a Spartan warrior.
I’ve asked myself on several occasions what the difference between her experience and my experience had been. We swam in the same water, biked the same course and ran the same path. Why did she have so much fun? The only answer I can come up with is attitude. Hers is good, mine sucks. She has enjoyed, and focused, on her journey to better health. I’m fixated on the finish line and therefore getting frustrated with the pain along the way. Just one thought, anyway.
If nothing else, it’s an interesting hypothesis. Maybe I’ll focus on straightening out my attitude a little bit this year and see if I have better results next year when we try this whole triathlon madness again. I might still not be in Spartan-esque from when that time comes, but maybe I’ll be able to fit into a wetsuit. That would at least be progress…
The first time I saw The 300, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “Wow. Why can’t I be that ripped? Why can’t I perform feats of strength like these guys?” The answer came in complete clarity on May 15 when I foolishly followed my spouse into Sand Hollow reservoir (Hurricane, UT) for a Sprint-distance Triathlon. I can’t put words to ‘said answer’ anymore than I could use language to describe the taste of salt.
The answer itself defies descriptive language. I believe it is better answered with descriptive feelings or emotions… feelings such as pain and, emotions such as fear. Not just regular, “Ouch, I got a paper cut” ‘pain’, or, “Wow, that was a scary movie” fear. More along the lines of, “I think my spine is on fire!” pain, and, “This is what it must feel like to die!” fear.
Pain and fear. I’m not sure how the rest of you feel about physical exercise, but from my rather limited perspective, it hurts; it don’t feel good; me no lik-ee. It is much less painful to wrap my body with an arm chair, my mind in a movie and my gut around a burrito than it is to swim in 56-degree water (without a wetsuit because they don’t make wetsuits in any size that resembles an endangered species when worn!).
The answer itself defies descriptive language. I believe it is better answered with descriptive feelings or emotions… feelings such as pain and, emotions such as fear. Not just regular, “Ouch, I got a paper cut” ‘pain’, or, “Wow, that was a scary movie” fear. More along the lines of, “I think my spine is on fire!” pain, and, “This is what it must feel like to die!” fear.
Pain and fear. I’m not sure how the rest of you feel about physical exercise, but from my rather limited perspective, it hurts; it don’t feel good; me no lik-ee. It is much less painful to wrap my body with an arm chair, my mind in a movie and my gut around a burrito than it is to swim in 56-degree water (without a wetsuit because they don’t make wetsuits in any size that resembles an endangered species when worn!).
Further, there is no emotional investment in going to the pool. Especially if you hang out in the splash pad with your 3, 5 and 7 year old. Conflicting emotions arise when you are a quarter of a mile out into a reservoir, and you can’t see the bottom, and you just inhaled a bunch of water, and a fish just swam by your leg (I hope it was a fish), AND the overly competitive doofis in front of you just kicked your eye goggles sideways. That’s never happened to me in the splash pad before! As such, I admit to having been a tiny bit afraid (i.e. mind numbingly terrified). I didn’t know the meaning of the word pain until confronted with a one-mile, 6% grade hill during the biking event. On the other hand, it was a completely different brand of fear that I felt when I had to turn around and ride back down said hill at 40 mph, both brakes fully locked, my fat carcass proving that acceleration IS an extreme amount of force (what would have happened if I had wrecked) divided by mass (my fat a$$ on a road bike going mach 3 down a hill while trying to keep things ‘straight’ and ‘steady’ enough to ‘hit’ the tiny little plastic mat that was placed over the top of the cattle guard at the bottom of the freakin’ hill!).
And we haven’t even come to the best part yet. I tell you what, people - you haven’t lived until you’ve had the opportunity to get hypothermia, bike into Mordor, then follow it up with a relaxing jog in 90 degree weather ALL IN THE SAME DAY! Beautiful! I’ve never felt closer to the Lord in my entire life. Probably because I was near death several times (by the way, I didn’t see a bright light at the end of a tunnel, I saw a deep fried, chocolate dipped funnel cake – liars!).
What really amazes me about this whole event is how well Debbie did. She had a great swim time, killed the bike part of it, ran the run, then turned around and ran it with me, thereby qualifying my wife (in my eyes, anyway) as a Spartan warrior.
I’ve asked myself on several occasions what the difference between her experience and my experience had been. We swam in the same water, biked the same course and ran the same path. Why did she have so much fun? The only answer I can come up with is attitude. Hers is good, mine sucks. She has enjoyed, and focused, on her journey to better health. I’m fixated on the finish line and therefore getting frustrated with the pain along the way. Just one thought, anyway.
If nothing else, it’s an interesting hypothesis. Maybe I’ll focus on straightening out my attitude a little bit this year and see if I have better results next year when we try this whole triathlon madness again. I might still not be in Spartan-esque from when that time comes, but maybe I’ll be able to fit into a wetsuit. That would at least be progress…
