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Wavering...

It's that time of year again. As Ironman races click by, I wonder if another one is in the cards. The internal debate rages on, pro and con lists are made, finances examined, locales researched and my desire to once again embrace that lifestyle is scrutinized. Do I have another 140.6 mile day in me?

True blue triathletes don't need to think about it. It's what they live and breath. Two and sometimes three (freaks!) Ironman races a season are standard. I don't know these people personally, but I've heard the myths. Their social lives are based on swim, bike and run - and maybe one beer before their heads hit the pillow. This is not me.

Completing two IM races in eight years (plus one DNF at mile 13 of the run) does not make me seasoned. (Photo is from IM-Florida in 2007.) I'm no poser, but the 140.6 sticker on my car is starting to mock me. It's been nearly two years and it either needs to be removed or I have to step it up.

How can my desire to race a year from now be determined today? Wait and see, one might say. The sad fact is, I can't. Ironman races fill up in a matter of hours - a year before the race date. People gladly pay $525 for race entry to exert themselves physically for up to 17 hours. And it's not even race day that's daunting. It's the training. The six hour rides, no Friday night happy hours, the painfully sore hamstrings and substantial investment in Bodyglide. (It's not as cool as it sounds. Promise.)

But there is a pay-off. The feeling of peace right before the cannon goes off. Looking around at 2,000 other athletes are in the same boat. Meeting some of the best people ever, especially on the run. Crossing the finish line - the only place where regular people feel like a rockstar. And the day after. Rehashing the small details with your friends while barely able to walk down stairs.

More internal debate to come. Stay tuned.

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