Life after triathlon

10.10.00 by Jim Riccitello (www.slowtwitch.com)

I’m finally starting to wonder what I will do for a job after my triathlon career. People always ask me, "What are you going to be when you grow up?" This question always bugged me a little bit because it implied that I wasn’t a "grown-up." While I admit my maturity level has always been on the low end, I’ve considered myself a "grown-up" since I was 17. I’ve paid my own way since then.

It’s just that my job isn’t a normal job. In fact, until lately I’ve never thought of my job as a job. I’ve been making money doing something that I love doing. I’ve accomplished the ultimate quest: to find a job that provides and that you love doing. My dad taught me this. He told me life is short. He told me that as long as I wasn’t a burden to anyone, I might as well spend as much of life as I can doing something I enjoyed. He told me money isn’t everything. After all, you can’t take it with you. He told me not to work a job that made me miserable just for the sake of the bottom line. My problem is I can’t make money as a triathlete forever.

My dad was young when he told me these things. When my dad was 30 he had four kids. Man, times have changed. I’m 35 and I still don’t have a "real" job, not to mention any kids...none that I know of anyway (just kidding). When my dad was 50—which is still young, thank goodness, seeing as 50 is only 15 years away for me—he said to me, "Remember when I told you life was short and money isn’t everything and you can’t take it with you? Well, all that’s still true, it’s just that money is a little bit more important than I initially realized."

I thought about when he had told me as long as I wasn’t a burden on anyone, to do what makes me happy. I figured that when he told me this, he didn’t see himself getting old. When you think that life is short, you never really think about planning for the future. I figured he was trying to tell me that if I didn’t want to be a burden on my kids, I need to plan ahead for the future. After all, it does come quickly. My wife is always telling me that I need to think ahead, too. Now I’m back to the original point of this article: What job can I do after triathlon that will make me happy and allow me to take care of myself and my family? Back to the quest.

My dad was always employed at a job he enjoyed. He was a pilot in the Air Force. He was a public relations man at a horse race track. He trained race horses. He owned a little sandwich shop/fried chicken place. He built and renovated houses. One thing I remember—my dad was always happy with his job. This meant he was also happy at home. Up until college, I spent summers with my dad. Those summers were the best. It doesn’t take much to have good times and millions of memories. I just want a job that makes me happy.

My wife’s an attorney, and lately I’ve been thinking that I could be pretty happy as an attorney. There’s just the little problem of law school and the bar exam. I’ve always felt that a certain percentage of lawyers shouldn’t have to go to law school. This would make the system much more fair. It seems some cases could be handled a lot better without such a literal understanding of law and the Constitution. It could bring some old-fashioned common sense into the proceedings. Between Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown, I reckon I’ve learned just about all there is to know about the law. Maybe law schools could start giving credit for the hours of court television shows a person watches. I’d have my Ph.D. if that were the case. And if I were an attorney, my wife and I could argue against each other in front of a judge. This way one of us would actually get to win an argument.

Now that would be fun. I can see us in front of the judge now. I’d say, "Your Honor, my client’s First Amendment rights have been severely trampled on. Before we get to that, however, there’s this matter of what to call a particular junction in one of my wife’s and my favorite running trails that needs to be addressed."

My wife would say something like, "Your Honor, I object to this subject matter on the grounds that my husband is a dork."

"Be that as it may, your Honor, opposing counsel insists on calling this particular junction of trail the ‘up part,’ when the facts clearly indicate the junction in question clearly goes down, and therefore should be called the ‘down part’."

"Your Honor, this man has never even gone to law school."

"A slight technicality, your Honor. And anyway, most people agree with me that the junction should be called the ‘down part’."

"Objection. Hearsay, your Honor."

"Withdrawn. It’s true, though. Clearly this is a situation where opposing counsel refuses to admit that her husband’s name of the junction is the best name. The evidence is overwhelmingly in my favor, your Honor."

"What evidence?"

"The evidence. You know. The stuff that shows your name for the junction sucks."

"The only thing evident to me is that you’re a complete geek."

"Your Honor, is she allowed to keep saying mean things about me? Judge Judy would never allow this type of behavior in her court. I think I want to lodge a protest. And how hard is it to patent my name for the trail junction?"

"See what I have to deal with, your Honor?"

"What?"

Now that would be fun. It’s too bad about that law school thing, though. If they ever change that requirement, I may become an attorney. Whatever I do decide to do, I know it will be something I enjoy doing. Life is too short to be unhappy.