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The Lowdown
What Triathlon Is About
By Jeff Matlow


The conversation is always the same.


"You've done a triathlon?" they say in amazement, their eyes open with awe. Immediately my ego inflates like a helium balloon.


"Yes I have!" I respond.


But then, inevitably, they ask the follow up. "Isn't that the race in Hawaii?"


Just as quickly as it grew, my ego shrivels like a prune. I've heard this conversation before. I know where it’s going, and I get angry.


"Yes," I reply between clenched teeth, "there is in fact a triathlon in Hawaii. It is called the IronmanWorld Championships."


But before I can even continue, they interrupt me, wide-eyed and oblivious, "So isn't a triathlon like a 75-mile bike and a 1-mile swim and something else?!"


At this point I’m already fuming. "Actually, not to be a stickler," I spurt out, with every intention of being a stickler, "but an Ironman is a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike and a 26.2-mile run. And though I have competed in Ironman-distance races as well as many shorter triathlons, no," I continue without even having to hear their next question, "I have not raced the IronmanWorld Championships. I’m just not that fast."


It is at this point they usually say something like, “Oh.” And after I describe the distances of a sprint or Olympic event, I can see that I’ve rid them of any remaining feeling of awe they once had.


Sometimes if they’re trying to be nice, they’ll say something else like “I didn’t know there were different race distances.” Usually though, I will hear something like “That’s it? I can do that!”


It is at this point that I want to punch the person in the face.


You see, to much of the common world, the only triathlon they know is the Ironman World Championship. They don’t understand that our sport is so much more than one event.


Let me be clear here, this has nothing to do with the WTC or any Iron-distance events. In fact, I’m as much of an Ironman lover as the next person, maybe even more. Between the stickers, mugs, branded credit card, finishers clothing and a suitcase full of training clothes, I definitely have purchased my fair share of m*dot branded paraphernalia, and I wear it proudly. Still, triathlon is not solely about Kona or about ultra-distance racing. Sure the Ironman championship race is very important to our sport, but the unique beauty of triathlon, like most other endurance sports, is that triathlon's growth and existence does not solely rely on the fast folks at the front of the pack.


With all due respect to my pro racing friends, if you've ever watched an entire triathlon you'll probably agree that seeing the first 20 people finish is not quite as inspirational as watching the last 20 cross the line. Sometimes it seems like to the first finishers it’s a job; to the last, it’s a dream.


To the thousands who didn’t think they could ever run a 5k, finishing a sprint race is a triumph. To the paratriathletes who may have previously struggled just to get out of the house, it’s a miracle. To the people who gave up drugs and drinking for a healthier life. To the ones who have struggled with weight and to all the middle and back-of-the-packers who are plugging along. To everybody who doesn’t come in the top 10 of their age group, and those who cross the finish line with their hands raised high despite the fact they’ve missed the race’s official cut-off time—we are the people that triathlon is really about. And yes, maybe the race isn’t close to being 140.6 miles long, and maybe it doesn’t take place in lava fields, but maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t matter how far or how fast you get to the finish line. Maybe what matters is that you dared to toe the start line and to give it your all.


So, yes, there is a triathlon in Hawaii, thank you for asking. And, yes, I did go there—I was a spectator, and I stayed until the very end watching the absolute last people cross that finish line, with smiles on their faces and tears streaming down their cheeks, despite the fact that they were on the wrong side of the 17-hour time limit. That, my friends, is what triathlon is all about.


Jeff Matlow really doesn’t care how fast you are.
He’s here: jeffruns@imATHLETE.com — or — www.twitter.com/IAmAthlete


112 USA TRIATHLON SUMMER 2011

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