My Athletic Goal: Prelude

With my imminent Triathlon Victory only days away, I am already starting to imagine what it will be like to win the triathlon. It's important that this is the thing that I do (I am trying not to end sentences with a preposition, but I admit, I don't know what a preposition is).

Remember that Canadian hurdler that was top in the world but who tripped coming out of the gate? She was thinking: "This is what it will be like to trip coming off the foot measuring device. I shouldn't have that be the thing that I do." Rita uses a similar method of visualization: "This was what it was like to be morning sick. God I hope that doesn't happen today." And then, boom: barf.

My strategy is positive visualization. I imagine that my triathlon will go as follows:

6:30am - arrive with plenty of time to register. Note that only three people are registered in my heat.

7am - take a massive no wipe poo, in a delicately scented port-a-potty with a flushing toilet and soft jazz.

7:30am - have my transition station set out for seamless costume changes. Did not leave anything in the car. Have not scattered my belongings in a 3m arc to either side of my station, out of sheer excitement.

7:55am - have my wife slap my ass as I dash into a warm calm lake that has an E. Coli count under 6ppm.

8am - begin the swim by punching someone right in the face. Get ahead by kicking people.

8:07am - Think about my finances, that girl in 2001 that almost went on a date with me, or some photography gear that I might like to ask for for Christmas. Do not think "Hey, I've been swimming a long time and don't know the am of which I am where."

8:08am - Note that my shaded goggles are doing a wonderful job of preventing my retinas from being fried out of my face by the rising sun that is skipping radiation across the calm lake and into my face as if it were skipping stones. Also note that I can see the next buoy, which is backlit by that same sun.

8:10am - Emerge from the lake in a time that not even Michael Phelps could set.

8:11am - Dry off, put on socks while standing with wet feet, put on shirt, grease up nipples to prevent the wearing of the dreaded number 11 jersey, don't step on sunglasses, and effortlessly glide across the terrain wearing bike shoes.

8:11am - Jump on bike. Have a light snack. Muse at how nice it was to have an early morning swim in the lake.

8:30am - Discover that I am a much better cyclist than I originally thought. Pass everyone.

8:40am - finish the bike ride averaging 50km/h. Amaze the fans. Sign triathlon contract on the way back to the transition area for the run.

8:41am - get changed again. Note that my nipples are doing well. Start running.

8:56am - discover how wonderful it is to transition off a bike that allows you to go quickly, with wind in the face, relatively easily, to the run, which is the opposite of all that. Note that I must do that more often.

9:10am - Thank myself for not forgetting to apply sunscreen.

9:15am - Have a refreshing drink of Gatorade. Consider my morning at the office the following day.

9:20am - End triathlon in first place. Set off fireworks.

10:00am - Have enormous breakfast, while reassuring friends that they also did a really good job, really. Get showered with praise by Wife, who is now having the best pregnancy ever!

And so that is the go with which it is. I mean, that is the way it goes. Stay tuned for: My Reality Check.