Olympic spirit and the things that matter most

Post #: 17
Weeks of training complete: 17 weeks, 2 days
Time until Ironman: 14 weeks, 5 day
Miles swam: 66.186
Miles biked: 907.97
Miles run: 257.38

Goal: $5,000

Total money raised: $720

I didn't realize how addicted to the Olympics I'd become - not that I have a chance to watch much of it - but I've gotten a chance to see more of it than I thought I would.

Watching the athletes is a total inspiration - Michael Phelps, the cyclers, the gymnasts, some of the swimmers who've sort been overshadowed by Phelps, guys like Aaron Piersol and Natalie Coughlie, who I believe, is from my old home state of New Jersey.

I swam the fastest 3,000-meter swim of my life this morning - about 54 or 55 minutes if you take out the rest periods required by the training plan; just over an hour with them. What's amazing is that it used to take me that long to swim 1,500 meters. And I'd get out of the pool exhausted. Now I get out of the pool and run 6.5 miles before breakfast. I also sprint (for me) miles. I ran two miles in 15 minutes in the middle of that longer 6.5 mile run. It's crazy to feel yourself get so much stronger; to feel your body change. I'm also eating anywhere between 3,700 and 5,500 calories a day now depending on the day. People told me about a graphic on NBC last night that showed that Phelps ate 10,000. Intense ...

A few days ago, I asked Heidi what she thought about me getting an Ironman tattoo if I finish the race. She thought it wasn't necessarily a bad idea, but I don't think I could do it, and my thinking goes like this - if I'm going to permanently ink my body, I want it to symbolize my greatest achievement, the thing I'm most proud of. That, of course, is losing my virginity when I was 16 ...

... just kidding.

Honestly, that thing is my relatonship with Heidi, my wife, and our beautiful family. Nothing means more to me that. Nothing even comes close.

The funniest thing about training for something like this is the amount of pressure this can put on your family. You're gone, a lot.

It's a strange dichotomy. I do things like the Ironman because I want to be healthy for my children and family as I age. So, in essence, I do it for them. And yet, in the process, I see them less. Even when I get up at 4:30 and get out the door by 4:45, I still miss those precious wake-up hours, when the kids climb out of bed and are excited to see you, four times a week. The other three Heidi is at the gym.

I think when training is over, it's those moments I'll cherish most - hanging with the kids with a cup of coffee as the sun comes up. Crashing on the couch in PJs watching Sesame Street and Dora and Yo Gabba Gabba. Eating muffins and planning what we're going to do with our day - the park, the zoo, the train park, something new and exciting?

But this, this Ironman thing, it's good, too. I've become more efficient, more organized, mentally stronger, more resilient, a better decision maker. I'm changing again. I can't explain it. But somehow, all of this teaches you even more the fleeing nature of time, the frailty of existence, the need to make the most of the experience and prevent fear from getting in your way. I can see the finish line, feel it, know it's almost there. I want it.

And then I want to rest, for many, many, many days, with the people I love the most. With the only things, honestly, that really, truly, matter to me.