So, I met this guy named Rob prior to the start of the triathlon I did this past Wednesday night. He seemed like a nice guy, which is cool because he was about four inches taller than me, outweighed my by about 75 pounds, and is literally trained to be able to do serious bodily harm if necessary. He's been in martial arts for a long time and has won many competitions. Did I know this going into this conversation? No. If I had, perhaps I wouldn't have been such a jackwagon to begin with. Well, I didn't mean to be a jackwagon, but he just took me off guard, and I gave a response that could have been construed as me being a jackwagon.
The situation went something like this. I was walking back to my van after having picked up my packet, racked my bike, and was going through my mental checklist of what else I needed to do. I was also preoccupied with attempting to casually look like a bad ass, as I checked out everyone else working on their bad ass-ness. My thoughts drifted, but they were something like this...
"That dude is focused. Pumped. He's got to be listening to some rock band that is blaring out a serious heart-pounding, blood-flowin' type of jam in his ear buds. No smile. No hint of a smile. Focus. Intensity. I wonder if I'll beat him?
...Wow, that is a freakin' awsome bike right there. I wonder if I should have gotten that instead of my GURU?
Hey! Your bike is awesome. Oh yeah.
But, look at those wheels.
Yeah, those are nice. Maybe someday.
Should I rent race wheels for Louisville?
Are you going to win?
No.
Then no.
Oh.
You should probably hit the porta-john before there's a line."
Ok, at this point, a guy walks up near me and says something to the effect of, "So, how did it feel after that one?"
Apparently he motioned toward the 140.6 sticker on my van, but I missed it. I was completely thinking he saw me at the Grand Rapids Triathlon, earlier this month, and I was trying to figure out when I saw this guy. I said something profound like, "Huh?"
"Is that your van with the 140.6 sticker on it?"
"Oh, uh, yeah". I was still trying to get my head wrapped around the fact that I was supposed to be talking to somebody other than myself.
"Well, how did you feel afterward?"
Ok, up to this point, I haven't really said anything wrong. I mean, I looked like an incoherent idiot, but at least I hadn't been rude...yet. But then the words came out of my mouth. The words, that without saying them specifically, yelled out, "Hi, am an ass!"
Of course this is not exactly what I said. In response to his question I said, "Tired."
Tired? Really? I couldn't have said, "Fantastic"? "Inspiring"? "Wonderful"? "Enlightening?"
The good news is that I didn't say it in a rude tone. I said it with a smile on my face and with a bit of a sigh, as if reliving my level of tiredness.
Then I realized how awful that must have sounded that I said "tired," and I was embarrassed as I backpeddled in my mind.
He seemed to let it slide, and replied, "It must have been pretty amazing huh?"
Fortunately, I came to my senses.
"Oh, yeah, it was amazing. Very fulfilling."
"I hope to do one someday. This is my first triathlon, then I'm doing a 70.3 in August, and if I don't kill myself, I would like to do an Ironman next year."
"Oh, wow. So, are you doing Steelhead then?"
"Yeah."
"You'll like it. It's a nice race."
"Well, I'll see what I can do."
Still a little out of sorts, and with my mind on getting to the porta-john and taking care of other business, I started walking away, and said something like, "You'll be fine," over my shoulder.
"I hope so."
After our first exchange, I took care of what I had to do, then went back and laid down in the grass to relax for awhile. As I stared at the inside of my hat, which I had put over my face, and I realized he said this was going to be his first triathlon. FIRST EVER!
I thought, "You weren't very nice to that guy."
"I wasn't awful."
"No, but, come on. You weren't terribly giving either."
"Yeah, but..."
"It's his first triathlon. Do you remember your first triathlon?"
"Of course I remember."
"Well, he must have a million questions, and you shrugged him off."
"That's not cool. I need to see if he's all set. Sheesh!"
At this point, I got up from my comfortable spot and walked over to where he was sitting in his truck. I said,
"Hey, did you say this is your first triathlon? As in ever?"
"Yeah."
"Well, do you have any questions?"
He looked at me like, "Well, yeah, kind of."
"Come on over and have a seat, and ask away."
I started by asking him about his athletic background, his preparations so far, and so forth. As it turned out he had only had his full-wetsuit on to try it on, and he had not yet swum in open water. I gave him some "what you might expect" type words of wisdom and we talked some more. He asked me some questions, but mostly he seemed well prepared, and well preped by some other athletes he had been training with.
I was so glad I didn't let this slide. Now that I am officially and old man in the sport, I have a bigger responsibility to provide more insight to the tri newbies of the world. Be patient if you are not where I am yet. You can be a card carrying member once you have been doing the sport a long time and you reach the 40-44 age group.
Anyway, I felt a whole lot better. I got a second chance at not being a jackwagan. He did catch me off guard, but this is no excuse. It was good to talk to an Ironman in the making. From our conversation, I am confident that he has what it takes to be a darn good one as well.
Rob...nice meeting you. It won't be long and you will hear the words, at whatever event you choose to cover the 140.6 miles, "Rob, you are an Ironman!" You might even think of that guy with the GU hat that sat down and chatted with you at your first event, and then you might sit down with some other newbie at his or her first event one day.
Peace.
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