The “Smell the Races” (and feel the River) Start to my 19th Triathlon Season

Nineteen years into the sport, I’ve realized that I need two things to keep me moving: a group of fellow lunatics and a coach I pay to nag me. Essentially, I use the threat of public humiliation as my primary fitness motivator. From 5:30 AM bathroom karaoke sessions to a downstream swim that felt more like a "conveyor belt of ice," the first race of the year in Clonmel was a reminder of why we do…