The Banter's Journey

Every once in a while, I get asked the question, "Banter- what keeps you going year after year?" (Okay, no one actually asks me that question other than the voices inside my own head.) It's a good question. I just concluded my 20th season of triathloning and I'm just as motivated as ever. This is in light of the numerous failures at achieving the goals for which I have set. On paper, I have more failures than successes. Year after year, I trudge on when many smarter lesser individuals have given up. The biggest factor that gets me up in the sport morning is... Unfinished business.

Here's the thing- for the past few years I've been performing subparly, especially when parred against myself. The last time I can remember being satisfied with my sport performance as a season was 2012. Most of my current tri-family hadn't received their birth in sport and I was starting to fizzle. So for the past 7 years, I've done nothing but mediocre sport. That's going to end!


Have you ever heard of the Hero's Journey? It's a literary device for the dozens of us who still like to read. Basically, the main character goes on a journey for some unknown reason, has an adventure, experiences a crisis, still manages to win, and returns home a changed being.  

There are several different versions of the Hero's Journey. One has 17 steps. Another has 12. They're all basically the same, with some being more verbose than others. I'm going to present to you the 8 step version (ya know, 'cause I'm the lazy type). 


The Hero's Journey- Step by Step Instructions
Step 1- The separation. Taking the hero from the ordinary world. Yeah, for those of you who've met me, you'd know that ship sailed a long time ago, destination unknown. I'm not even sure the ordinary world would accept me back.

Step 2- The call. A problem is presented, and the hero could not remain in the ordinary world. This one's easy. I have this delusion that I'd like to be good at sport. It seems that just when it's starting to look up, I get smacked in the face with this thing called reality and the ordinary world just comes crashing down. Something's gotta give.

Step 3- Threshold. The actually crossing over, the journey begins... This is the exact stage where I'm currently sitting. I've signed up for Ironman Mt. Tremblant, which will take place on August 23, 2020. That's just over 9 months time, or a slightly long, Banter-esque gestation (yes, I was 2+ weeks late). Base training has officially begun.

Step 4- The Challenges. See, here's the thing, I'm a big pansy. Most of the aspects of sport that make one successful I lack. This list includes, but not limited to: intelligence, the desire to go out in the elements at the wee hours of the morning, the determination to trudge on even when the trudging doesn't want to go on, the will to do it over and over and over again, the ability to fuel adequately (<-- okay, this one I actually have), and so much more. 

Step 5- The Abyss- the death and rebirth of the hero. Historically, my abyss comes in one of two forms. The first is due to injury. Injuries have plagued my last few seasons in such a way as I'm beginning to think I'm injury prone. I still think that I'm wrong though. The second form is a lack of motivation come late spring/ early summer. The reason for this form is that the area in which I live doesn't normally get the memo that winter has ended until mid-June. This zaps my will to live and continue to train indoors. I traditionally pick life. 2020 might toss something new at me. Who knows?

Step 6- The Transformation- a sudden, dramatic change in the way the hero thinks. I, too,  am patiently awaiting how this plays out. Stay tuned.

Step 7- Atonement- the hero becomes at peace with himself. I have resigned myself to go sub-11, meaning that anytime of 10:59.59 or faster will suffice. My previous best was an 11:33. Even if I fail, I'll still be at peace for at least the next 7 days or so, which is how long it takes for me to relearn how to walk after a 140.6 event.

Step 8- Return with a gift. This one's not so difficult to understand. Everyone who finishes the race gets finisher's gear. A medal. A hat. A shirt. A chance to spend even more money on pictures, plaques, jackets, your own airline, etc. 

The next 9 months are going to be an adventure and I plan on enjoying every at least a few steps along the way. I'll keep you updated. Welcome to my Journey.