Karen writes: Triathlon journey...

In recent weeks I have become pretty sure I am seeing the emergence of another triathlon convert.  The signs are there, questions are getting increasingly targeted, there are discussions around books and bikes and food and upcoming events...and the bundle of medals on the wall brings about a wistful look.

It is so exciting to run across someone else who may potentially be hooked! Perhaps each new person validates your own pathway (if someone else does it then it cant be thaaaat mad), perhaps it is knowing someone else will eventually experience the highs and the lows and the super highs and understand in the way that only another who has done the same thing can?  Perhaps it is yet another person to 'talk shop' with, learn from, relive things?

You realise when you start pontificating on nutrition this and injury that and this piece of equipment here just how far you have come though. Fortunately at the start you dont realise how long the learning journey is, what you will have to deal with, or that once hooked it never really stops.

I might even be a bit jealous because there is never again a 'first' significant event. My most memorable and profoundly affecting was that first entry-level triathlon, Special K in 2005.  Followed by the first marathon in 2010, which sure left me pretty high but not as high as Special K.  Even Ironman was a bit muted because our 'first' in 2012 was downgraded to a half and in 2013 things didn't feel quite the same, we knew what we were doing by then, well, we thought we did anyway. But actually all events have their high points, except it might be the training journey, or the accommodation, or a particularly nice guilt-free hamburger that is remembered more than the race itself after you have done a few of them.  Whatever, journey or destination, the feelings are addictive, and long may we all travel this fabulous road.

Speaking of roads, I'm back on a modified version of the 8 week programme I used before both Rotorua and Wellington marathons. This week I have upped the time I have spent running. Monday was run (8km) and spin (45 min), Wednesday was a thoroughly enjoyable (did I say that?) 15km run, tonight will be a 10-12km run dependent on how energetic I feel after a long day at work, tomorrow is Saturday and a dose of Tai Chi, and Sunday a 25km run is on the plan.  7 weeks out from the Zaragosa marathon, time is disappearing at an alarming rate, as it always does, why am I always surprised by this?