Some Perspective as I Begin

I’m pretty excited by the initial reception of my highly-publicized blog launch.  Over a million unique pageviews already and I haven’t even posted anything of substance yet!

Of course that’s not all entirely true.  I had a lot of good stuff in that welcome message, I thought.

I was considering this next post and thought it might be a good idea to take a moment to think big-picture here, before all this excitement and attention goes to my head.  I don’t want to confuse or mislead anyone, or worse yet, embarrass myself in a media space as permanent and far-reaching as the internet.  Also, I really enjoy lists, and feel like I’m thriving as I formulate them.  So I am laying down some ground rules for the upcoming year, in no particular order:

WHAT I WILL DO:

-My best.  In my training, racing, eating, sleeping, blogging, and everything else.  You may have been hoping for something more than Andrew Langfield’s best (I know I was).  Hard reality to face, but this is all you’re going to get.

-Show my appreciation to those who support me.  I’ll admit it: this is a pretty self-focused pursuit.  I couldn’t do any of this without the support of many people.  I’ll start right now, by thanking my family and friends who encourage me; my fellow triathletes, competitors and training partners who challenge me; all those who volunteer and work in the triathlon arena; and of course, my inspiration: Sean Moran.  More on him later.  And last but not least, you all, my innumerable fans.  Words cannot begin to repay a debt this grand.

What more need be said?

-Aspire at all times to abide by the “Swanson Pyramid of Greatness."  I may omit certain tenants, including but not limited to: the consumption of skim milk, shaving below the neck, and the wearing of short shorts.  I do all of those things, pretty much all the time.  I also can’t grow any facial hair.

-That’s really all I can control at this point...   I wish I could talk split times and make race predictions, but who knows what will happen?  I could catch the scurvy and be forced to sit the season out.  In which case I’d have to start a new blog about my exploits in quilting and learning French (both things I’d like to do).

WHAT I WON’T DO:

-Make excuses.  It is true that triathlons require a certain commitment of resources: time, money, energy, etc.  We all possess those in different quantities, and we have to deal with it.  I’m lucky to be in this position, so I won’t waste time talking about what might have happened if only ____________.

-Complain, cry, gnash my teeth, or the like.  Sort of a spin-off of the previous point.  But these reactions to a poor result are no more endearing than making excuses, so they warrant mention here.

-Get money, get paid.  I put that on here in an effort to be realistic and honest with myself.  But this one is by no means exclusionary.  If by some act of God I actually do garner some form of financial recompense for my efforts (i.e. place well at a race), I’ll move this one up to the “What I Will Do” list ASAP.

Peering into the abyss of the upcoming season...
...or my illustrated pledge not to be priggish.
(photo courtesy of Bryan Mullaney)

-Take myself too seriously.  And I hope all of you, my loyal and trusted followers, will help keep me honest on this one.  If I start bumming everyone out all the time with my posts, you need to let me know.

-Lose sight of why I do triathlons.  Because they are just so much damn fun.  At the end of the day, I love this sport, and am grateful for my ability to participate in it.

So that’s it.  If you have any suggestions or think I missed something, don’t hesitate to drop me a line or post a comment.  Keep them G rated, of course.  Nearly half of my 1,000,000+ pageviews last week came from the 2-5 year-old age bracket.  And also, please make an effort to keep direct attacks on my character from being too acerbic.  I know the tendency exists.

That’s all I got!  Tune in soon for some thoughts on my (tentative) 2012 racing schedule, what actually goes on at Wildflower, and the prospect of having my ass whooped all over the race course by a celebrity (it's ok, he won the Tour de France 7 times, I'm not embarrassed).

Andrew