I was thirty nine and holding when a young, female doctor discussed my current health status with me.

I had come to her offices with complaints of lower back problems and I left looking for an anger management class. The fine doctor was blunt with me. "In my opinion you are clinically obese and this is causing your back to hurt." If "she" had been a "he" I may have slapped her face with a white glove and challenged her to a pistol duel. I left the doctors office that day with a new problem to deal with- a fresh case of hurt feelings.

At first I discounted her comments, but what she had to say would not go away, and worse than that- it was all true. I had always been a decent athlete and took pride in my physical condition. I lettered in two sports in High School and played my fair share of college intramural football; however, juggling work and a new family had sidelined me for a couple of years and I was overweight and out of shape. What could I do to get back in the game and more importantly show the doctor she was wrong about me?

On land I could probably make the 10k run and struggle through the 26 mile bike; it was the possibility of drowning in the mile swim that was terrifying to me.

I studied the dynamics of a triathlon. Swim first, cycle, and finish with the run. I would be entering the water for the first leg of the race with 600 other eager competitors, many who are considered elite athletes with endurance skills beyond my comprehension. If I were somehow able to survive the swim to crawl to a bike, and cycle the length of a marathon; I would be rewarded with a final six mile run to the finish line.

Despite my wife's wishes and my immediate family's warnings, I began my training 3 months in advance of my first Olympic distance triathlon event. It would prove out to be some of the most physically demanding and mentally grueling training I had ever faced. Coupled with the fact I was now married with three children and working two jobs- this was not going to be easy for me.

My doctor's assessment of my health and my family's general lack of faith in my abilities fueled my desire to tackle the mountain that stood before me. I trained religiously with the help of my wife and mom sacrificing their time and personal life to support me. One may find it useful to know that the divorce rate among triathletes is three times higher than every day people.

I trained every day of the week either in the water, on the bike, or running.

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