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The power of a smell…

Yesterday during the sermon, our Pastor told the story of when he was growing up he detested the smell of a certain Bisquick cake his father used to bake. Years later, after the passing of his father, he found himself baking that very cake and being reminded of the fond memories he had. A once mal-odor became a sweet memory through the lense of time and experience. Every once in a while I have a similar olfactory experience and it is one in particular that I found myself dwelling on after church was over.

As I was looking through some bags and random racing/triathlon supply boxes, I found myself looking into the closet of our guest bedroom, which happens to have our wetsuits. Suddenly, I found myself taken back to the last triathlon of the much storied (at least by me) 2008 racing season…the Portage Lakes Triathlon, the last race in the Wheelie Fun Racing Series. The culmination of a season packed with lifetime memories and experiences, excruciatingly painful running courses, seemingly endless uphill bicycle battles, frigid swim courses, that feeling you get as you come into view of the finish line, hearing your name followed by the 4 words “You are an Ironman” and knowing you have earned it. Memories abound as I reminisce about predawn wake ups, race day checklists, pre-visualizing T1 then T2 making sure everything is in its place, shoes here visor there…don’t forget the race number belt. All of this because of a smell…

What was the smell? Like Pastor Malanga’s sermon, it wasn’t the smell of roses, or fresh bread, no this scent has a darker origin…Neoprene and stale lake water. Why does this smell have such power over my memories? Why does the combination of synthetic rubber and highly suspect lake water have such a cogent affect? It isn’t a sweet smell, not particularly inviting at all, but it is the smell that bears the memories of a summer spent training, racing and traveling with my wonderful wife. It was a good summer, one I’m sure to look back upon fondly as I share those memorable moments with friends, family and now…my daughter Cora.

Tiffany and I were talking yesterday afternoon, and I mentioned how that summer could not have been planned better. It was a grueling schedule of training, B-races, A-races, and everything else. It was exhilarating, challenging, painful, but most of all…wicked awesome fun! Tiffany had a suspicion and we later confirmed that during Ironman and all subsequent races, that she was pregnant. She was still able to not only compete in the remaining triathlons we’d planned, but she became the champion of the Wheelie Fun Series…with child… All of this and many more memories are firmly stored in that part of my brain that can be accessed by (among other things) the smell of a man-made rubber-like product aimed at keeping me warm and the strange concoction known as your ordinary off-the-shelf lake water.

As we plan our comparatively meager racing schedule for this year, I find myself still highly affected by the smell that currently resides in the closet of our guest bedroom, to which I’ve returned a few times to make sure those memories are still there. I do not look back with a sense of longing or regret that life has taken its unexpected turns, no those memories deserve so much more. They are a single summer, a collection of events that came together in a way that can never be, nor should ever be, repeated. That smell will forever be known in my own mind as the smell of racing.

This entry was posted on Monday, May 11th, 2009 at 5:44 pm and is filed under Cycling, Family, Ironman, Races, Running, Swimming, Triathlon. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.