MARK PATTON: Triathlon made me a trained monkey
8/28/04
By MARK PATTON
NEWS-PRESS SENIOR WRITER
 Triathletes
are supposed to look like Tarzan.
They must be strong, they must be fleet -- and they must
be able to tread water in something deeper than a hot tub.
So what's a middle-aged desk jockey such as myself doing
in today's Santa Barbara County Triathlon? In a stud contest,
I'd be lucky to finish ahead of Cheetah.
But Dawn Schroeder of the Momentum 4 Life training group
assured me that triathlons are for everybody, even those
of us who just monkey around at fitness. And she wound up
talking me into the unthinkable: A summer of training for
the sprint version of today's 23rd annual event.
If the next story with my name at the top is not an obituary,
then credit Momentum 4 Life trainers Eric Schmitz and Pete
Engle.
They noticed at the first of our group's weekly workouts
that my swimming style was something akin to the jitterbug
-- like I was trying to kick my way out of the jaws of a
shark.
"Which would you rather be -- a tugboat, or a sailboat?"
Pete asked. I was so out of breath that I couldn't answer,
so he finally added, "You're wasting energy by kicking so
hard -- just reach out with your stroke and let yourself
glide through the water."
He was probably also thinking, "If you thrash around like
that in a wet suit, a shark is sure to confuse you for an
injured sea lion."
They had us on the track the next week to work on our
running styles -- and, for a change, made me feel like a
kid again:
"Up straight, shoulders back, Patton! And stop dragging
your feet!" Eric commanded. He might as well have been my
mother.
But what surprised me most was how ill prepared I was
for the cycling segment. The first thing Pete suggested
was that I invest in a pair of gloves.
"They're not just for sweaty palms," he said. "When you
crash, you break your fall with your hands -- and the gloves
will help keep them from getting torn up."
When I crash?
Pete also noticed that my seat was set too low, preventing
full leg extension when I pedaled. But this is where I drew
the line: "If I'm going to crash," I announced defiantly,
"I'm going to start off as close to the ground as I can!"
Eric and Pete also worked on our mental preparation, having
each of us devise a mantra to keep us focused during the
race.
My first thought was a Tarzan yell. But even after a summer
of training, I still saw myself more as Cheetah than Lord
of the Jungle.
And so I settled on a mantra that was good enough to inspire
the Anaheim Angels to the 2002 World Series title:
"Rally monkey! Rally monkey!"
We put it all together last week with what Eric and Pete
called a "mock" triathlon.Thankfully, it did not mean that
people were going to be making fun of us.
And we all finished it. Even me. We celebrated Thursday
night with a pre-triathlon party.
Eric and Pete used the occasion to discuss race strategy
with each of us. And one of the first things they asked
was what I planned to eat Saturday morning.
"I think I'll just eat what I've been having before every
Saturday workout," I replied.
That's right. A banana.
It is, after all, the breakfast of chimps.
Mark Patton's column appears on Tuesday, Thursday and
Saturday. E-mail: mpatton@newspress.com |
