NYC Triathlon: Age no barrier for doc, 74

Of all the training Dr. Bernard Berger does to prepare for a triathlon, his routine for his feet is the easiest.

For weeks, Berger, 74, walks around his dermatology office in Southampton wearing his blue running shoes -- without socks. He wants to get his feet ready to race sockless.

"It takes too much time for me to put them on," Berger said.

When Berger dips his toes into the Hudson River on Sunday morning he will be the oldest competitor in this year's New York City Triathlon, but that hardly elicits more than a modest shrug from the veteran runner. This will be Berger's fourth NYC triathlon.

"You do it for yourself," Berger said. "It's motivational -- if I didn't have one of these events to look forward to, I'd probably be sitting on my glutes. That's the thinking."

Berger is 5-foot-10, 165 pounds, takes no pills other than fish oil and can still do three sets of 15 pull-ups upon request. Amazingly, he said he has not suffered any injuries other than some soreness and stiffness.

"If I don't feel well or something hurts then I'll stop," Berger said. "You have to listen to your body. If something really is major, I'd definitely slow down."

Berger's first triathlon was at Sag Harbor in 1997 at age 60 -- a relative late-comer to the endurance racing scene. He got into it after a suggestion by one of his patients. His daughter, Emi, has also run several triathlons with him.

A native of Los Angeles, Berger said he was never much of an athlete but started running local races when he moved to Long Island after serving in the Vietnam War.

These days, Berger trains relentlessly, usually before dawn. He takes his Seven bike to Montauk for a 40-mile ride. Or swims a mile in Sag Harbor Bay. Or runs eight miles on the roads in Easthampton. Many days, he'll double up.

Berger said he doesn't expect great results Sunday but one person will be happy when it's all over: his wife of 41 years, Phyllis. Berger joked that he's been annoying her about his times lately.

"She's sick of my whining," he said, laughing. "She'll say, 'Bernie, it's a shame you got so slow so fast.' I don't get any sympathy."