Age...it's just a number

Even though the race lasted less than 2 1/2 hours, it had been a long day. It was hot. Very hot. Close to 100 degrees F by 10 am. It was an Olympic distance triathlon. There was less than a mile to go as I crossed the Mill Ave bridge. She came up behind me and passed me. I looked down and saw a 27 on her right calf. Good, I thought, not in my age group. She still had a good pace going, a spring in her step. I knew I was almost finished but my legs were lacking liveliness. I picked up the pace just a hair to run next to her. "I'm not in your age group, do you mind if I run with you?" I asked her. "Sure," she replied, "I've been following you for a while, trying to catch up." In a race it's a mental trick to pick out a runner in front of you and slowly work to bring them closer and eventually pass them. We agreed that it was nice to have someone to run with, to take your mind off of the heat and fatigue when the going gets rough. We ran about a half mile together and then as we approached the last turn to the finish line, I shouted some encouraging words to her as she sprinted in ahead of me. I finished 4th in my age group. Not bad considering.

It was a beautiful day in Show Low. It was a tough race. The bike course was hilly and windy. The run course even hillier. Add in the elevation, and you have a challenge for any athlete willing to take it on. I was having a good day. The swim was awesome, water was chilly, I felt like I swam hard. The bike, though tough, was good practice. The run...lots of hills. With a little over a mile to go, I came out of the campground onto the road that traveled back around the lake to the finish line. I saw her about a half mile ahead of me, approaching the final hill. I was feeling good. She was suffering. She stopped to walk. Yes!, I thought, I can catch her. I caught up to her at the base of the hill. She looked like she wanted to cry. I've been there. I looked at her calf, 25. Not in my age group. She began to run again when she heard me approach. I ran just a step behind her, almost pushing her mentally up the hill. "You can do it," I said, "we're almost there." I could have taken off and finished the race, but I continued to encourage her up the hill. "Keep it up, just a little more." "Last little push, finish line is less than a quarter mile away." "Thank you," she said, when we got to the top of the hill. "No problem", I replied and picked up the pace, passing two more runners in the last tenth of a mile. After the finish, I waited and shook her hand as she crossed. "Great job," I said. "Thank you so much," she responded, smiling. I know how it feels to be in her shoes. To feel like you have nothing left. To have someone provide a distraction, some words of encouragement. To be able to finish running, instead of walking, is a good feeling.

It was the longest day. It was intensely hot. After 139 miles there was a little over a mile and a half left to the finish line. They had battled back and forth all day. Just over 10 hours. On the bike and on the run. One takes the lead, then the other. As they approached the final stretch along the Tempe lake, he decided to pick up the pace a little and see if he could drop his competitor. What lead he gained was minimal, and as they approached the final turn toward the finish line chute, his opponent picked up the pace. He had known all day it would come down to the wire. He came in 11 seconds too late. His Kona slot was robbed from him, in the last seconds of a hard fought race, by a worthy opponent. He was outdone by another whose number on his calf matched his own.

In triathlon we compete against others of our same gender in our age group, usually a 5 year bracket (30-34, 35-39, etc). The age is marked on the back of the athlete's calf, if for no other reason than to allow you to target your competitors. We compete for pride and honor. We compete for bragging rights. We compete for PR's. We compete for spots on the podium which might earn us a medal, a bottle of wine, or free swag. We compete for coveted slots in championship races. In our community of triathlon, one day you are supporting each other, cheering for each other, training together to get stronger. The next day, you hope that you are just a little bit better, a little bit stronger, a little bit faster than everyone else. You hope that you have what it takes to cross that line first. And at the end of the day, you sit back and have a beer together, and laugh, and share stories. Age is just a number. But it has the power to unite or divide. Dan turned 40 yesterday. Which means that he will 'age up' for IM CDA. He will compete against a different group of people who are just as fast or faster than the age group he leaves behind. And at the end of the day, he needs to be only a second faster than the next fastest guy to get that Kona slot. I have no doubt that he will be watching the calf of the guy in front of him throughout the day, making sure he leaves nothing to chance.