Triathlete T-shirt. This way I don’t need a tattoo on my forehead announcing it. Yet.
I got this t-shirt for Christmas, but I didn’t wear it straight away.
There is something about declaring your sporting commitments publicly, such as wearing a t-shirt that states ‘I Tri’, that means you have to be ready to represent and be an ambassador of your sport.
I don’t look like your average triathlete; I look like I spend most of my days sitting on the couch watching re-runs of Friends and eating chocolate ice cream. Which is why I knew I’d make a good triathlon representative and that it was worth waiting until such time as I was ready to take on that responsibility.
Yes, I dare to think that I might inspire other crazy weirdos to have a go at this sport – because I am part of a minority of un-athletic, un-talented morons doing this for fun, as opposed to the generally intimidating triathletes you might normally see or hear of. I have visions of some other average joe lunatic standing in the checkout queue at Coles, noticing my t-shirt and asking me a question about triathlon. And me, enthusiastically telling joe how terrifying and challenging yet ultimately achievable it is, before he or she scurries off to sign up for the Bribie Island Triathlon that very afternoon.
I will be kind, welcoming and encouraging. Average Joe Lunatic’s world will be a better place.
So, I knew I had to be ready to represent seriously. Therefore, I didn’t wear my t-shirt straight away, even though I was swimming, biking and running – and tri-ing – really hard. I was definitely a triathlete, I had no issue with that. You don’t have to enter a race to be a runner. You don’t have to publish a book to be a writer.
But I wanted to make sure that I could wear my t-shirt with my head held high, ready to answer questions if needs be. I waited patiently for that time to come, thinking it might be after the finish line at Bribie. Continue reading