After my third Ironman, things were looking just peachy. Two sub-12’S and a sub-11. It was only a matter of time before the sub-10 comes-a-calling. Mountaineers aim for the summit. We aim for fewer digits on the clock.

After Happily Ever After
Thus it was that, after my 2nd Ironman, Natalie and I got married, which resulted in my adding two additional principles to my racing philosophy:

1. Married life makes for a happy life
2. I go faster if I’m married (as evidenced by the 49 minutes off my 3rd IM time)

Following the short wake of my bachelorhood, my sporting life was launched into a new league when my bride revealed a blue piece of paper. This was how she introduced me to our unborn child, Beanie. Some would have thrown in the towel at this stage on a reasonably mediocre Ironman career. I, on the other hand, was ready to embrace the challenge of racing in the dad ranks. There were, however, the strains of doubt. Could raising a child and having a sporting life be the bridge too far?

It’s a question, the answer to which I’ll find out soon enough. I’ve taken the gloriously stirring news of the Beanie’s arrival as an indication that, not only would I be supported by my trophy wife, but I’d have the littl’un to carry over the Kona finish line under a Timex board bearing the number 9-anything. My plans would need to be re-tweaked to incorporate my whirlwind blessing.

This is the stuff of which dreams are made.

A Few Weeks before Due Date
One of the best wisdoms I picked up from my biking comrades whilst on the road was - Never compare labour to an Ironman.

This is the lesson I learnt from my IM Lanzarote buddy for life, Brett, who told his wife, Marian, while she was in the heat of her most violent contractions, “This is your Ironman!” The expletives she unleashed on him shortly thereafter were a good indication of the inappropriateness of his comment. Fellow IM athletes would appreciate the sentiment – I certainly did – but unless you’ve been there, it’s best to stay shtum.

Also, and one should never ever mention this to your spouse (unless she has done anything above a half IM), having a baby is EXACTLY the same as preparing for an Ironman. Now for those pregnant woman or mothers out there, you’ll be getting angry just about now, but hear me out. Bare in mind I’ve been to the NCT classes, and I’ve seen the video. Here are the reasons why the analogy makes sense:

• Preparing for an IM is stressful stuff. Like pregnancy you need to make certain you get enough rest
• Once you’re booked for an IM there should be no going back. That’s got pregnancy marked all over it
• They both involve immense preparation – families and friends need to be advised of the implications
• For both events, you need the appropriate clothing
• IM, like pregnancy, is not for everyone
• Whether you do it right or wrong, there’s going to be some pain
• Once it’s over, there’s some bragging to be done

A Few Days after Due Date
With the efflux of time, in this case a few weeks, I have decided to qualify the statements made in my analogy above. One needs to always reconsider one’s philosophy and adjust one’s position based on the facts at hand. Flexibility is the primary tool of philosophers.

There are times, I have recently come to understand, when IM is not like pregnancy. Here are the reasons why:

1. When the officials say the race starts at a certain time it starts at that time. Not so with pregnancy. Mother Nature decides when she’s good and ready to fire the starting pistol.
2. IM is a set distance. 3.8k swim, 180k bike, 42.2k run and a set course. That never changes. Not so with pregnancy. Mother Nature decides how long the event is and even, occasionally, where it takes place.
3. After an IM you can forget all your training and get on with celebrating and socialising. Not so with pregnancy. Here you get a training partner for life, and a partner you have to train up from scratch.

Not Long to Go
With the realisation that I will be a father pretty shortly, I have learned to appreciate the words of Lance Armstrong’s ex-wife, Kiki, who said that with parenting you enter a world where you are susceptible to emotional annihilation. Or something like that. But I got the gist.

In a race, I’d hesitate if I rode passed a compadre with a puncture. The thing with this fatherhood affair, if it were my boy or my girl, there’d be no hesitation.

The knowledge that your world is about to change in a big way is exciting as it is ominous. I’m ready to accept that the training will have to be squeezed into fewer hours of the day and the 6-hour Saturday rides will only be memories talked of with nostalgia in hushed tones while recovering from a 3-am baby-feed.

I’ve decided that the biggest change I’m making is that I’m no longer thinking of it as an IM-thing, rather an IM-family thing. My dream will become their dream. If I will it, it will happen. I’ll be thinking of how I’ll be breaking this to the wife and Beanie (when he/she gets here) while I head off to buy our first Ironbaby jogger.

Oh yes, before I go, if you only remember one thing, no matter what anyone tells you, the tenet that you should never tell your wife “This is your Ironman” during child birth, still stands.

More power - more aero - less food,
RobbyRicc