When COVID-19 turned the world upside-down, I found myself, like a lot of people, taking a long, hard look at what had been my routine, and what I might change that would provide greater satisfaction. I chose to become a coach. What appealed to me the most was the shift from focusing on myself to helping others achieve their goals. Now that I think about it, that describes my professional career as an IT tech support person. Season planning is a popular coaching topic. Every fall, around this time, I see advertisements from coaches offering to help athletes plan their next season. Back in 2021, the focus was on coming out of lockdown. The message was, “Now is the time to do something big. That one big, crazy event that will change your life.” Call it a brush off the cobwebs state of mind. I admit I went for it, like an ahi after a glistening fish hook. My 2022 goals were well thought out, if a bit beyond my comfort zone. But that was the point. The Honu half Ironman in June, and Ironman Cozumel in November. I was not messing around. I signed up for both. By May I was in my best shape ever. I was totally prepared to finish well at Honu. Then we arrived in Kona and Pattie’s hip decided it had had enough. She could barely walk, no more than a few yards. The worst part was not knowing why. That, and having it appear without warning. That to me signaled that something serious and life threatening was involved. I had a short day, and we got her started on the road to recovery. Another casualty was Cozumel. We both kept hoping that in six months the hip thing would be gone. No such luck. The organizers were kind enough to roll over my entry to 2023, which brings me to today. Preparing for an Ironman has led me to learn something about mental toughness, knowledge that is as useful in my role as a coach as it is as an athlete. Lately, this has been the most significant part of my training. My mind keeps looping around negative thoughts. Never mind what they are, their number seems infinite. I constantly fine myself pulling my thoughts back onto the path while reminding myself that this is what everyone else is going through, too. This is normal. The brain going into survival mode, trying to save me from physical harm and, even more so, embarrassment. Let’s review. Why am I doing this? Because I still can, and to demonstrate that age is just a number. (I am 73.) What would be the best possible outcome? To finish. What is my goal? To execute a well planned, well paced race and go for as long as possible. Not finishing is okay. An effective way to deal with those survival mode thoughts is to remind myself of that third bullet. Add to that this realization: nobody else cares. I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders. Nor the nation, nor my team. Blend into that batter the thought that everyone else in the race feels the same way. I’m not good enough I’m not ready I’ll make a fool of myself So far I have talked about physical training and mental toughness. Both of these categories are critical for a good performance, but there is one more to consider, physical condition. For younger athletes this usually means injuries. A sore knee from too much running. A sore back from too much time on the bike. Road rash and bruises from a bike crash. These things can have a significant impact on race day. Senior athletes are vulnerable to all of those, plus a plethora of conditions that crop up as we age. In my case, I have been dealing with two. Double vision, and atrial fibrillation, popularly known as Afib. I have written extensively about both previously and will not dwell on them here. Cataract surgery did wonders for my vision but I still wear glasses to correct double vision. I have a special pair of sunglasses with extra large lenses that allow me to look up the road while down in the aero position. They work really well, but I must say that toward the end of Century Ride it was starting to act up. Not as bad as before, but still. As for my heart, all I can say is that once in a blue moon my heart rate red lines, and the only thing to do is to slow down. A lot. I just completed another fourteen day monitor test and my cardiologist’s comment was “Nothing special.” Previously, his comment was that if my legs are still working, keep going. Good advice for anyone. I always enjoy having my wife Pattie to join me in these events. The job is multi-faceted. Chef. Navigator. Sanity checker. Cheerleader. A hundred different jobs. I know some athletes who race alone, but I can’t imagine doing it that way. I already described the setback we had with her hip. She has come a long way but is still not one hundred percent, and there are other age related issues presenting new challenges. The bottom line when it comes to the physical condition issue is, are we healthy enough to take on this challenge? As much as I like to say that age is just a number, have we reached a point where our bodies just can’t handle the stress? I have less than a month to answer that question. As I said, every athlete approaching a big event experiences doubts and fears. This is normal, to be expected and, ideally, managed by way of well practiced mental toughness skills. At what point do doubts about physical condition change from everyday worry to a reason to abandon the goal? It might be fine to brush off an ankle strain, and definitely not a good idea to race with a broken bone (although I know athletes who have!). My situation is somewhere in the middle, and I am the only one who can make the call. UPDATE I shared a draft of this post with Pattie and we had a long talk about it. We agreed that our recent family vacation revealed reasons to cancel doing IM Cozumel. Pattie said she felt bad for holding me back. I stressed that we are a family and do things like this as a couple. We just aren't quite ready. I am not quite ready to retire, so we agreed to take another crack at Honu. The whole logistics piece is quite familiar, and getting there does not involve nearly as much stress. I just signed up. Maybe we should stay at the hotel. IM has a nice looking package deal, even offering early breakfast on race day.