REFLECTIONS ON THE NEWS OF A TOP TRIATHLETE SUFFERING A HEART ATTACK IN HIS PRIME

endurance sport is a lifestyle, a way of being. seven years into my triathlon career, i understand this fact more deeply than ever.  i understand why dan empfield writes that he thinks of himself as a triathlete even though he may not race for years.

i consider myself an endurance athlete first and foremost, a triathlete second. if i wasn't doing tri's i might be racing marathons, or ultra-distance runs, or gravel races, riding in organized centuries, grand fondos, or just going for long hikes or outdoor physical adventures of my own making. i am a big kid.

i went to see my bike fitter last week and commented that the differences between 26 and 46 are that, on a nice sunny, early spring day at 26 years old, i would have been on my mountain bike, tripping on nature, on some kind of bohemian jaunt, whereas at 46 i was with him, tinkering with my 10 thousand dollar toy about to do hard ass intervals, riding in loops, so aero that i can't pay proper attention to most of what is around me.

what remains constant, is that way of being, the addiction to movement and exertion, the pulse and rythm of  physical questing in the outdoors,  and then feasting on life via my body.

so, what would happen if you couldn't do it anymore? injury sidelines most of us at some point, but injuries are temporary and you often come out the other end stronger, wiser.

what if something so terrible was to happen as to stop you from participating in endurance sport at the level you have grown accustomed to?  i imagine this question will be most un-settling to those of us who are past the 12-15 hr per week barrier, for whom training, is, in essence, a second job.

what if getting your heart rate up to 170 on a regular basis forms some kind of cornerstone of who you are, and then suddenly, you just can't do it anymore?

in this sense, we are all in a race against time, even lou hollander cannot hold on forever. Mother Kali conspires to use her daggers of time and change to everyone's detriment. That is inevitable. But usually, she is benevolent and things happen at a rate that is barely perceptible, until one day, we find ourselves in a state of decay, close to death.

these thoughts come to me easily at most times, but are most recently ingnited by the news of laurent vidal's untimely and unfortunate heart attack.

we all love to read stories of cancer survivors (ehhm) who are thriving and doing ironman's, blind people who transcend barriers to become ironmen, and so on and so forth. we don't like the stories of those for whom kali announces her presence abruptly, and without mercy, taking away the option of participating in our sport at the highest level; forever. sindballe, stadler, names that just fade away and we tend to forget them quickly as time puts them on the sidelines prematurely. what a shock it must be for them to adjust to a new life.

when i heard about laurent vidal's heart attack, i felt shock, horror, and a deep sympathy for him. i am sure that, for him and his family, at this point, just being alive is enough. but my thoughts immediately jumped (rightly or wrongly) to the thought that he will never be able to race and train at that level again. it ignited my own fears.

i have had an irritable few days. on the one hand, i have resented my workouts as intrusions upon what could otherwise be idyllic family time spent with my daughter, on the the other hand, i have held them close like jewels. i have approached my workouts with more than usual anxiety about my safety, and gratitude when i arrive back at home base safely.  as i float within the whirlwind of emotion that has been my inner world this week, some things have become clear. if endurance sport is, for me, a compromise formation, in the freudian sense, a solution to a problem, then whether i channel myself into the sport via anger, or love, or a lust for freedom, it is FEAR that endurance sport covers up, it is FEAR that john the ironman stands as a symbol in refute of, it is FEAR; of Kali, of death and the passage of time, and in essence, and because decay is inevitable, it is FEAR of being human itself.