I completed my first triathlon in 1993 on a whim, not knowing the life-changing impact that would subsequently ensue. As triathlon became more a part of my life, I voraciously learned the nuances of the sport. At first the tasks were small, how do I clip out of the pedals at a light without falling? Then the tasks became ones of fine-tuning, how do I mount the bike in a race with my shoes already clipped in? Despite the countless hours of training and dozens of races I have competed in, I still attempt to find a message from each experience. After every race, I review the aspects that were favorable and the points that need work for the next time. In this way, I hopefully evolve as an athlete.

Although visiting the medical tent after a race is no laughing matter, it has become almost a joke among those that know me and the inordinate number of trips to the medical tent I have made over the last few years. My racing career has been sprinkled with many medical issues—I have asthma (four trips), a weak GI system (two trips), an unfortunate propensity for dehydration (five trips), crashes (two trips), and a stubborn will (two trips). As a result, I have forgone many post race festivities in favor of a cozy cot in the medical tent. The mind is an amazing tool, adeptly empowering the body to cross the finish line, but often not a step further. It was visions of lying down in the medical tent that enabled me to trot through the finish line, despite dehydration and hypoglycemia from vomiting, at the 1999 Ironman. Much like George Costanza from Seinfeld who can tell you the best restrooms all over Manhattan, I have visited medical tents all over the country, and even a few abroad, and can offer comments about them. As for my own personal growth, I have probed each incident carefully to determine the cause and how to prevent such an occurrence in the future. The following anecdotes, and this is not an exhaustive list, summarize the events that led up to a medical tent visit and what I gleaned from the experience. Hopefully you can learn something from my trials and tribulations on the race course.

As triathletes, we are fortunate to have three sports. Often, an injury in one does not prohibit us from training in the others (aren't we lucky??). Injuries occur in a multitude of ways, from overtraining to biomechanical errors to improper equipment. Fortunately, a lot of injuries are preventable. The following list may help you stay healthy in the upcoming season.

The start of the race was frenzied, and the mad rush never dissipated. I was sailing along nicely, when at mile 6, I started wheezing. The flowers I had been admiring earlier were now my demise. I sucked on my inhaler and continued on. At mile 8, I started wheezing again, and needed to sit down. A kind rooter on the sidelines offered me some water, and I took a couple more sprays of my inhaler. I continued on. By mile 9, I knew my race was over. At the aid station, I pulled out and sought medical attention from one of the physicians stationed on the course for such an occasion. Not only did he need to help me control my breathing, but he also helped me cope with the devastation of dropping out of the race. Every time I thought about those runs in minus 30 weather, the tears started again. He never lost his patience, and eventually I felt better. Riding the bus back to the start, behind the last participant, was one of most depressing race experiences I have ever had. I think the guy with bib number two sitting in front of me probably felt worse though.

Moral: Springtime may not be the ideal season to run a marathon if you have asthma or allergies. If you have asthma, make sure you know the proper timing and dosages of your medications before embarking on an endurance event such as a marathon.

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