- For Trevor's IRONMAN Origin Story -- Part Two read it HERE
- For Trevor's IRONMAN Origin Story -- Part Three read it HERE
It was a few years ago and I was sitting at my desk one day. An email popped up with the subject line: “Registration, Ironman” or something like that. All that was in the body of the email where those four words, “Why the Fuck Not?”, together with my buddy Rob’s registration details for the Coeur d’Alene Ironman.
I had no idea what Ironman was. I barely even knew what triathlon was. And as it turns out neither did Rob. But Rob is probably the fittest guy I know, and so I was hardly surprised that he simply decided to “take on the challenge”. I still remember his training partners laughing about how Rob’s first marathon was the marathon in his Ironman. I think he pulled it off right around 4 hours. The guy is a hero.
But more than that, he’s dedicated.
Rob took a structured training approach. He followed a plan. He found the time. And he made it happen. And the next year I went up to watch Rob race the Ironman Canada in Whistler, together with a few other buddies. The wheels in my head started turning that day as I watched the wheels on those bikes grind their way down the scorching hot asphalt.
Earlier in the spring I had completed my first ever endurance event. The Whistler “Tough Mudder”. I trained for it with (what I then thought) was a pretty decent resolve and commitment. Tough Mudder was the first time I had ever run 20k (and I cramped, badly, at the 15k mark and at every kilometre going forward). Prior to that I had done a few 10ks, one of which I was so out of shape and unprepared for I ended up with torn feet, lost toenails and a limp that made it look like I was in to a whole other kind of endurance fun. So completing Tough Mudder was, well, tough. And I thought it would be rewarding.
But in actuality Tough Mudder left me defeated. Why? Because the event itself was basically a roaming buffet. Every ~2km they had a massive food table with all these fat, out of shape “tough mudder” people stuffing their faces with free protein bars and GUs and whatever else they could get their hands on. At one point a queue actually formed for food. Like, a long queue. Yes, instead of running and jumping and powering through, people lined up to eat in the middle of their endurance race. I was unimpressed to say the least.
So back to watching Rob in Whistler. I’m standing on the sidelines thinking to myself “none of these people look like the bums in Tough Mudder, they look like they want it, like they’re fighting for it”. And they were. Some were on $10,000 bikes, some on $100 bikes, some had full aero kit, some wore mom shorts, some were ultra ripped, some carried a bit more weight, but they all, and I mean all, had the same look on their face: “I’ve trained for this, I’m doing this, I’m going to get it”.
They cared. And the challenge mattered.
So I’m standing there. I can’t swim or run or bike. But I begin to think, “I can do this”. And at a party in September, 2014 where I knew no one I struck up a conversation with some triathletes who said “well there’s a race next week, you should sign up”. And so do you know what I did? I said “Why the Fuck Not” and signed up for my first ever race, a try-it tri in Stanley Park, Vancouver, on 6 days notice…
...to be continued…