MF'n Triathlon Coaching

I sit in the comfort of my own room, on my own bed, beside my finally quiet pup. Two days ago I witnessed countless triathletes complete an endeavor I’ve always watched from the sidelines as a spectator, perfectly content to remain that way. In years past, my parents and I would make our way over to Coeur d’Alene, arriving well after the athletes had entered the water. Many had already transitioned onto the bike. I’d never witnessed the swim start, but after seeing video of the chaos, I thought I better see it in person. In all the triathlons in which I’ve competed, I’ve only been accustomed to the wave start. Never have I imagined having to exert myself just to find my place in a crowd of thousands of athletes about to enter the water. Athletes waiting to begin their day... What a wait. The professionals started out nearly forty minutes before the thousands of age groupers who were to follow. The stronger professionals had completed one loop of the 2-loop swim just as the n

What a team! After our busy morning cheering the kids along in their very own triathlon at the Trifusion Kid's Tri, the "big kids" got a chance to have some fun at the Trailblazer Tri in Medical Lake that same afternoon. I'd never done this triathlon before, but the course felt very familiar as it mirrored the Wunderwoman and Medical Lake Kiwanis triathlon courses. After a long day on my feet, I was surprised by how quickly my body responded to yet another of my crazy demands. As a low-key race, I kept telling myself all I had to do was have fun. Quite frankly, that's what I did. Craig Thorsen let me borrow Erica's race wheels to see what they felt like. While they made my bike look fast, I no longer have enough spare money in my pockets to afford something so fancy. Left to right: Bryan Rowe, Ronnie Crenshaw, Natalie Gallagher, me, Mike Winnet, and Dave Erickson. On our way to the other side of the lake for the swim start. The bed of that truck wa

I had the privilege of partaking in Trifusion's annual Kid's Triathlon this past Saturday. Having only seen pictures of past events, I could already tell this experience would serve as one to remember. Not only did I have the opportunity to work alongside my friends doing something other than swimming laps or riding hills, but we, as a team, provided some of our community's youngest the chance to see and experience what many of their parents do. In addition, they witnessed a healthy dose of competition, fitness, and fun that will hopefully translate to greater motivation to stay active on their own. The kids weren't the only ones having a great time. Parents came out to support their kids, which meant that not only did they stand on the sidelines, but many helped take off swim caps and goggles, and then don shoes and helmets before running their kids out to the bike course. As one of the volunteers stationed in the transition area, I witnessed several of the kids had

Photo by Ben Bao Tran My hands looked swollen and red. Just moments before I’d donned my wetsuit, clumsily, because I couldn’t exactly feel what I was doing. The light drizzle that met me as I descended from the bus had turned into a steady rain. It didn’t take long for the wind to pick up and carry it sideways against our faces. The 45 degrees my iPhone displayed felt like sub-40. My wetsuit kept me somewhat warm, and my double swim caps kept my hair from getting wet. Funny thing is, I could see my bare feet on the wet pavement, but I couldn’t feel them. Amy Wilcox turned to me and said my face had turned blue. I had no doubt, as a number of people around me had turned funny shades of white, blue, and red. An ambulance that sat idle as I walked into transition suddenly turned on its lights and started down the long road toward town. I thought that ambulance was there for those who needed it during the race. The sooner I got this race started, the better. I was ready to go! Let’

My first Half Ironman 70.3 turned into Boise 29.3. I may be the only one to say that I respect the officials' judgment call on this one, because apparently, a few of my triathlete comrades lack sufficient brains themselves. The comments I'm reading on Facebook leave me pretty disturbed. Let me just put this out there: I entered this sport because it looked tough and challenging. It pushes anyone who enters these races to their ultimate limits and requires a demanding amount of time to complete the training necessary to succeed. I entered this sport because of the people. Healthy, smart, fit, inspiring, motivating. I can't think of a single person who has questioned my ability to participate in this sport. I entered this sport because anyone can do it. I passed people younger and older than me, some as old as 74. I watched one woman hobble along the run course, surely just on her first lap. She looked like her knees were going to cave in. Yet she was running. I did not ent

I had the privilege of waking up to gorgeous, warm sunshine. In addition, the weather report on my phone forecasted much different conditions for tomorrow. At least today's short and easy workouts would leave me with a tan, as there is no way tomorrow's forecast of cloud cover, 70% chance of rain, and 20-30mph sustained winds with 45-50mph gusts were going to do anything for me. Sunshine and a slight breeze... Maybe tomorrow? As I look out the window, the sun still shines, the transition bags are packed (hopefully with the appropriate gear and nutrition I will need at each of the two transitions), and my stomach full. We--my Trifusion teammates and me--spent the day getting in our last workouts, checking into the race, ambling through the Ironman center, and checking out the course and logistics of what would take place tomorrow. I woke up feeling confused about how tomorrow would pan out. Tonight, I go to bed exhausted and anxious. Yet having the myriad of people back ho