In the Life of a Triathlete/Firefighter

By Sheryl Kuhn

Why you would ever task a fellow who spends most of his time and profession living and training in the outdoors to write an article on why he loves Kansas City, I will never know. As I write, it is March and we are coming off another brutal winter. Like anyone who has lived here for more than two years, I wake up nearly daily, roll over and, at least half the time, start my day with, “Are you kidding me… again?”.

I have two jobs, and both of them are equally impacted by the elements. I raced Ironman triathlons professionally and still do as an “age grouper,” or amateur, and I currently work as a KCMO firefighter/EMT.

I know this much for sure: In every race I’ve ever done, I have been absolutely certain that someone with much more talent was going to beat the Speedo off of me. I was equally certain that the elements would not. You cannot live in this town without growing a thicker, tougher skin. Our idea of mild is a couple weeks in May and October; the rest of the time we deal with and live in extremes.

The Ironman in Kona, Hawaii, is the world championship of our sport. It is what started the triathlon madness back in the late ’70s and where it ends every October. In the past five years it has become nearly impossible to qualify for it. The depth and quality of athletes participating has surged; fewer than 1,500 total from every nation on our planet will get the nod this year.

You see, the lava fields, ocean and the island itself are living, breathing things that want to do nothing more than chew you up and spit you out. The 2.4-mile swim sends you straight out into the Pacific Ocean among the swells and currents. The 112-mile bike course begins with a brief climb up towards the volcano before dropping you back onto the Queen “K” highway and the northwest corner of the Big Island. And there are the “Madame Pele” trade winds, which blow from the Pacific side and gust up to 50 miles per hour.

I have seen smaller cyclists put into the ditch because they lost their focus for just a moment. It’s understandable that the mind wanders 65 miles into a day like this. I’ve felt and heard my own rear wheel suddenly skid and bounce across the road as Madame tried to end my day a long ride and marathon run short of the finish line.

Off of the bike at one in the afternoon, you start the marathon. It’s a 26.2-mile death march over some of the hottest, toughest and most humid conditions I have ever seen-outside of my hometown in July and August, that is. The race is won and lost on the marathon: Many can keep it together through that swim and bike, and most show up with a good poker face when they start the run. But all the pretenders get sorted out. Those who cannot handle the heat implode and bonk. When they do, their day is done.

Between my cousin Bob Schloegel and I, we have represented Kansas City a very lucky 13 times. We have finished in the top 10 in the world in our respective divisions in well over half of our attempts. Only I have taken longer than 10 hours, and that was on my first attempt, which I attribute to arrogance and youth.

Not many towns can say that they have had such a strong and consistent showing on the Big Island. It’s a testament to what the weather, people and temperament of Kansas City builds.

I ride and run outdoors year round. I know every stretch of every road in every direction in this city. I’ve seen them covered in ice and unplowed snow and running with cracks like spider veins in the dead of summer. I don’t know if there is a better place to train for a race like Hawaii; it takes a town like this to toughen up a kid like me.

Looking to find the best information about Kansas City Kansas City

Article kindly provided by UberArticles.com

Topics: Magazines | Comments Off

Tags: kansas city, magazine, Magazines, triathlon

Reprint Rights

Comments are closed.