Signing up for my first Ironman 70.3 was a small step in a direction I had not quite registered yet. It felt vast and almost ungraspable at first, like I had agreed to something far bigger than the page on my screen. But slowly, through research, trial, and a lot of error, I built a training plan that carried me not only across that first finish line, but through a second 70.3 and even a full Ironman. I did it without a coach, without a certified trainer, and without anyone handing me a perfect blueprint.
That is not to say I did not have help. I absolutely did, from friends, from other athletes, from people I met at practice swims or on the bike trail, from anyone willing to share even a sliver of their experience. What I learned more than anything is this. You do not need the perfect workout regimen to start training for an Ironman. You only need the heart and the willingness to try, especially on the days you do not feel like it.
Perfection is not what gets you to the starting line, and it certainly is not what gets you to the finish. The only thing that matters in the beginning is consistency. Give yourself twenty minutes, three times a week. Choose any leg of the race, swim, bike, or run, and simply show up for those twenty minutes.
No one has ever crossed an Ironman off their bucket list without first reaching for it. Sometimes reaching does not look heroic. Sometimes it looks like lacing your shoes and walking out the door for ten minutes when you wanted to stay home. Sometimes it looks like getting into the pool even when your body feels heavy. Sometimes it looks like pedaling around your neighborhood on a bike that is not fancy.
All of that counts. All of that matters. All of that is training.
When I look back at the calendar from my very first Ironman training season in early 2024, I remember how enormous it felt and how every box seemed to carry its own purpose. Rowing intervals. Short runs. Easy rides. Strength sessions. Longer efforts tucked into the weekends when I finally had the time and space to give a little more. I did not see it clearly then, but what I had built was a rhythm. Not a perfect plan. A rhythm steady enough that my life could actually hold it.
Now when I look at my 2025 season calendar, the structure feels more confident. I know my zones. I understand how to balance intensity with recovery. I switch naturally between strength work and aerobic work. Yet the foundation is still the same as that first year. Consistency, easy efforts, long weekends, rest days placed with intention, strength woven into each week.
That is the part beginners often cannot see. You do not start by trying to train like someone in year two. You start by learning to follow a simple weekly pattern you can return to again and again. The first year you are learning how to show up. The second year you learn how to trust yourself.
If you are looking for a place to begin, you can start with a very simple four week rhythm that reflects the spirit of those early months. Nothing overwhelming. Nothing complicated. Just the beginnings of a habit you can build on.
In the first week, focus on proving that you can show up. Try three short sessions, perhaps a twenty to twenty five minute bike ride, a twenty minute walk or jog, and a short swim or row. If you have the energy, add an easy weekend walk or ride. Nothing needs to feel difficult yet.
In the second week, add a little structure. Keep the same routine, but let one workout include a tiny progression such as a few short pickups on the bike or a focus on calm breathing in the pool. You will be surprised at how quickly your body adapts.
In the third week, allow one workout to grow slightly. Perhaps a steady thirty minute bike ride instead of twenty five or a run that finishes with two minutes that feel a little stronger. You are not trying to go fast. You are learning that you can stretch yourself without burning out.
In the fourth week, let the shape of triathlon appear a little more clearly. A bike, a run, a swim, each kept gentle and steady, followed by a weekend session that is just ten minutes longer than usual. This is often the moment when people realize they are training without even noticing the shift.
This simple rhythm works because it mirrors what both of my calendars reveal. Ironman training is not about doing everything at once. It is about stacking small, consistent efforts until confidence begins to rise on its own. It teaches you the feel of a training week, how to balance three sports without overwhelming your life, and how growth happens slowly but steadily.
Most importantly, it protects you from the trap of believing you must be perfect before you begin. You do not. You begin exactly where you are, even if where you are feels small. With patience and consistency, you become someone who can hold the larger work. That is the real secret of Ironman training.
I signed up for an Ironman on a whim, a silent cry for help, a way to hold onto something without having to actually hold it. I had no idea what I was doing. When I look back at that version of myself, I wish I could lean close during one of those early cycle days and tell her that it will all be worth it. I would tell her not to fear the unknown, not to assume she is failing simply because she feels lost. Time in the saddle is what matters most. Not pain. Not indulgence. Not perfection. Just time. The rest of it finds its way.
Leave a comment