Iron Week

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I've fallen far out of the triathlon world, so far out, in fact, that it's hard to remember a time when I stressed about making it to a master's swim workout each morning. But I think this is Ironman week. At least that's what their website says. This means that Babbitt is winging over to Kona, for his annual week of Hawaiian living. The hotels and restaurants will be transformed into a subset of the triathlon culture for the next seven days, and the actual race day itself will be its usual transcendent mixture of pain and triumph.

I have plans to be there next year as a spectator, for part of a new book I'm writing. But as much as I am passionate about endurance sports, Ironman is one race that I just don't see in my future. I was having this conversation with my friend Mark Arenal a couple days ago, standing on the grass in a Huntington Beach park while watching a cross-country race. He was talking about putting his name into the lottery for next year's race, but had realized the time and emotional commitment required, and decided against it.

I told him my annual story, where I have this lightning bot revelation that this is the year. This is the year I do Ironman. I will rejoin the master's team, put the tri bars back on my bike, and slowly immerse myself in a sport that I see as one of the most physically demanding on earth. To finish Ironman is to finish one of life's great physical challenges. To be an Ironman is to be a true endurance athlete, no questions asked.

But there's the rub. I also see Ironman triathletes as some of the most narcissistic and anal individuals anywhere on the planet. The "cult of me" that permeates Kona during Ironman week made my lone visit to the competition a few years back something much less than palatable. It was the exact opposite of that laid-back Hawaiian vibe I'd enjoyed in Kona during previous (non-IronWeek) visits. To say that it was more than a little off-putting would be an understatement.

I know that there are Ironman triathletes out there who balance work, family and training. I haven't met any of them, but I'm sure they're out there. I'm pretty sure my friend Stan Smith of Virginia falls into that category, come to think of it. So I know one.

Come to think of it, Babbitt and Huddle are pretty squared away too. So that's a couple more.

The point is that I love the sport, but the culture surrounding it makes me squeamish. So I will not be doing Ironman this year, or any year in the foreseeable future. I will cheer the race. I will shed a tear for the race day heroism. I will marvel at the toughness it takes to endure a marathon after that swim and bike. But the dig-me20culture leaves me cold. If I'm going to spend 20-30 hours a week training for something.... wait. I can't see myself training 20-30 hours a week for anything.

Look, I just don't get it. And I never will.

Aloha, and good luck.

Keep pushing... always.

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