From time to time I need a reminder. It’s a reminder about sport, and why we’re all driven to do it, and how if we make it life and death, we’ve kind of missed the point.
Like today. I was running down the beltline in Toronto. And the trail was packed. Packed. Like, constantly weaving in and out of people, dogs, and humidity packed. And I’m lost in my own little world, worrying about all my little junk. About how I had a sore calf, or how I didn’t feel particularly bouncy, or whether my legs would be “there” when I needed them at tomorrow’s race. But as I ran towards Amy (who was walking the dog going the other way), she had this wonderful little smile on her face and a highfive waiting for me. And as I slapped her hand, it was almost like the sense was slapped back into me. Smile, pal. You can run. So run. Run free. And be happy because of it.
And then I was at the Muskoka race course, about to jump in for an easy pre-comp swim when a middle aged gentleman approached me. He had overheard Chris, Danielle, and I talking and apparently it “sounded like we had done this before.” He was about to compete in the sprint race and was wondering about wetsuits and water temperatures and the like. As we conversed, I realized that even though this man would be several minutes behind after the swim, he had come to the race to compete. To challenge himself. To achieve a goal. Speed was relative. He was going to go as fast as he could, and he was going to feel good about himself at the end of it.
Or maybe an incident from World Triathlon Championships sums up some of what I’m talking about. One of our national team athletes, Kyle Jones, had his swim cap stripped off his head during the swim. Being that the water was in the low 50’s, his entire body froze, and he couldn’t use his hands, and he certainly couldn’t undo his wetsuit. This sucks because Kyle’s work habits are legendary (Kyle once said to me after swim practice, “No matter what, the hardest worker always improves” and he’s certainly proved that). Anyways, as Jonsey ran out of the water, a french athlete lent a helping hand…
As I left the conservation with the middle-aged-swim-guy he said, “Are you here in the competitive spirit?” Arrogantly, I did some silly looking arm swings and smirked as I moved on. If I could take it back, I might have said, “Just like you are.”
