After a years training and lots of cash spent the tour to scotland's extreme tritathlon, the Celtman, did not go a planned.
Instead of competing I ended up supporting another athlete and in retrospect I am quite thankful for this oppurtunity to be the other side of the game. It is an honour to help someone else through the madness of extreme endurane and it is a experience that requires humilty and focus thinking always one step ahead over a long period of intense time for another humans critical needs. It is a wonderful role.
My chest infetion, whilst incrediably bad timed, was not the bad thing that I thought because now I have fully rounded perspective on the whole scenario of what this sport is and without the supporters, the extreme athletes day is not possible. At all.
Even though we drive forward with many hours of solitude and focus on our own game and plan, we could not manifest much of it without the support of those around us, be it club members, friends, partners, family etc. They may take a back seat when we are out on our lonely runs and bike rides, but we certainly bring them to the forefront when we need comfort, motivating and reassurance.
The Celtman is a superbly organised event and not only an oppurtunity to expereince yourself on the extreme dimension of performance and solitude but it is also a humbling oppurtnutiy to see how humans actually enjoy helping and assisting one another. They really do. The athletes pains and gains becomes the supporters paind and gains, its a strange symbiotic experience. We must not underestimate the incredible capacity for emotionäl and spiritual connections on a social dimension. The more extreme the event, the more extreme everyone experiences this.
So, a chest infected moment of discomfort became the door to a vision of the other side. How can this be a bad thing?
Nichola Jane Aindow