Friday – 6:00 p.m. (36 hours to race start)

Before our guests arrived…

(Guests?)

Guests. We invited our friends to join us for Shabbos dinner and lunch the next day. We knew four separate people doing this race with me, so why not share our Shabbos with them and their families? All the athletes needed to carbo load and the meals gave the families an opportunity to…

(Commiserate?)

Discuss where to shop while we were out on the course struggling.

(Doesn’t your family look for you on the course?)

They track me on the app. The swim is a mob scene and I go by so quickly on the bike, so I’m happy that they are enjoying their day.

Before our guest arrived, it was time for the “sign.” The “never again” sign started as a personal pledge after the pain of my first Ironman.

(You were so beaten up that they wheeled you through the airport on top of your bike case.)

The pledge was repeated after the pain of my second Ironman.

(You had blisters the size of silver dollars on your feet.)

The pledge became a sign at the start of my third Ironman.

(The race where they literally used a wheelchair to get you off the course and then a luggage cart to get you up to your room.)

Now the sign has become a part of our race weekend.

(Because no one believes you anymore.)

The Shabbos before an Ironman is a suspension of disbelief for me. I’ve just spent the day getting ready for this race that is happening in two days. Race day is almost here, but Shabbos is about to take over.

Shabbos imposes a mandatory rest on me.

I’m not going to swim. I’m not going to bike. I might not go for a run.

(Might?)

If I get too antsy, I will go for a walk. I don’t do well with staying put very long, but I’m going to spend most of the day talking with my family, reading and sleeping.

(You sleep?)

I get too excited the night before an Ironman race to sleep, but two nights before is the best night of sleep all year. I can finally relax, there is nothing I can do at this point that will change the outcome of the race. I sleep so well that one year I slept for 12 hours.

(You slept “a bagel.”)

A what?

(Sleeping around the clock is called a bagel because a bagel is…)

“Round.” I get it.

(So, what does one eat before an Ironman?)

We cooked all of our Shabbos food before we came up.

(Your cooler of food was the biggest piece of luggage in your trunk.)

We had challah, grape juice, salads, dips and chicken I smoked out in my smoker.

(No wine?)

I like wine, but wine does not like me.

I learned from Ironman UK three weeks before, the only thing I should be drinking the day before an Ironman is electrolyte solution. We had herring and plates of lox for the next morning.

(Herring? Lox?)

Once again, what I learned from Ironman UK three weeks before is “more salt.”

I even made Joe Herman’s “travel cholent.”

(Joe Herman’s what?)

I followed Joe’s advice. Before you get in your car for the drive, pour all of your cholent ingredients into a bag and place that bag in your cooler with all your ice packs. Friday morning, I took the bag from the fridge in my hotel room and poured its contents into my crockpot.

We set the Shabbos table, including a challah board and challah knife.

(Why go to all that trouble?)

Shabbos will happen no matter what I do, but I can elevate the Shabbos experience by turning our hotel room into a place of Shabbos kodesh.

(You wore a suit?)

No, but we have a special travel kiddush cup, just for these Shabbosim.

(What does one talk about at an Ironman Shabbos meal?)

The race:

“How long do you think it will take you to complete the race?”

“How hot do you think it will get by the time we have to start running the marathon?”

“What is your race day nutrition … as we sit here eating cholent and kugel?”

David Roher is a USAT certified triathlon and marathon coach. He is a multi-Ironman finisher and veteran special education teacher. He is on Instagram @David Roher140.6. He can be reached at [email protected].