Swim, bike, run, write.

"Can you see my bum crack through these shorts?" and Other Triathlete Concerns


Triathletes. Complex beasts with complex concerns. If we're not obsessing over Strava stats, we're inexplicably smothering ourselves in gunk like an oversized Christmas goose and squeezing into some sort of neoprene number to go battling it out with the lake weeds. The list of (really not that dreadful) struggles is endless, but here's my favourite things to whinge about when I'm training:

The post-long run hanger
I don't know for sure, having not grown a tiny person in my body yet, but I'm 99.9% sure the food cravings you develop whilst out on a long run are almost as powerful as that of someone heavily pregnant. Which is fine, until you go to make that peanut butter toast you've been dreaming of for 20 miles only to discover that some absolute cretin (under normal circumstances known as one of your loved ones) has eaten it all. The hulk looks like a little kitten, compared to the hangry peanut butter deprived triathlete.

Death by blow-drying
The utter devastation of realising that dry-shampoo isn't going to rectify the sweaty, lake water-infused hair situation - whilst knowing that in 10 hours or less you're going to have to do it all over again. Why bother doing upper body strength workouts when you can just aim a hairdryer at your head all the live long day?

The "oh sh*t, no clean kit" laundry debacle
I know it seems like we're always buying ourselves new lycra, but honestly - we never have enough lycra. And so ensues the risky sniff test - "I can get away with wearing these shorts one more time, right?" (The answer is always no.)

The great strava upload fail
Hell hath no fury like a triathlete denied an upload. "But how will anyone know that I did a quick-little-easy-tempo-IM pace-5x20km-dog jog-WU-CD-2017229*5[1'] run?"

The mid-week lane rage
It's all fun and games until someone goes rogue and plays backstroke roulette in the fast lane at 6.15am on a Wednesday morning.

The speed vs dignity conundrum
On the one hand, I could stop and blow my nose like a civilised human being. But on the other hand I could fire off a snot rocket and keep going. Sure, the noises coming out of my mouth would probably sound less like a birthing sea lion if I slowed down a touch so I could actually breathe, but that's no fun. Who needs dignity when you've got a Strava QOM to brag about on the internet, right?

"Can you see my bum-crack through these shorts?" 
The (literal) fine line between worn in and worn out. Despite all of the aforementioned lycra purchasing, we still have our favourite bits of kit. And we will wear them until they are but a rag. On the plus side, those shorts you should probably have chucked out 2 years ago? They're an excellent deterrent for drafters.

Got something to add? Come at me: @jennifersophiee



P.s. if anyone spotted the Mindy Kaling book reference in the title, let's be friends.

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