An email popped in my inbox from a triathlon organiser. I’ve heard good things about this race, but haven’t done it. “Enter now for 2015! 1000 places sold out in 36 hours last year.”

My finger hovered over the button.

Do I want to race it? It sounds good. I don’t want to miss out.

But, do I even want to do a triathlon next year? When is it? Oh, right almost 12 months away. What will I be doing then? Where will I be living? I have no idea.

I closed my browser and didn’t enter. There are other races. Other good races. If this one sells out and I decide that I do want to do a middle distance triathlon in 2015, I’ll just do one of those instead.

I’m all for having goal races that motivate you to work towards them. I entered Ironman Bolton, a race that had already sold out once and would do again when additional places were added, more than nine months before race day. Having that date in the diary to work towards pushed me to get out on my bike and put in the training. But it also put a lot of pressure on that ONE DAY.

On the flip side, there’s a lovely 10k in Regent’s Park every month that, if I feel in good form and my legs feel good, I know I can turn up on the day of the race and get a place. I know this wouldn’t work for every race. Some races need a lot of preparation time. I can’t imagine something like Marathon des Sables operating an ‘on the day entry’ policy with much success. Imagine having to book your flight out to the Sahara and stand in line with your entry fee (a suitcase of the local currency) and hoping that you were there early enough to be handed a number and some safety pins. But wouldn’t it be nice if you could enter more races on the day. Or at least a lot closer to the event itself.

Having a date in the diary to work towards is great. The problem is when the hype and fear of being left out of a race that everyone else seems to be entering sweeps you along with it. Do you want to do this race or are you suffering from a serious case of FOMO? The later is what leads to a large number of DNSs from places that could have been filled by some of those left disappointed by not getting a spot. Especially when places are non-transferrable, non-deferrable and there’s no waiting list.

Back in January, myself and two friends entered the Snowdonia Marathon. We’d been discussing it and planning it for a couple of months and were aware that the relatively small field of 2000 places often sold out early in the year. When places went on sale, all three of us entered. Two of us will start the race, the third is badly injured.

The race organisers, wanting to offer as many people the opportunity to do their event as possible, offer the option to transfer your place to another runner. Because these things happen. So they’ve been regularly retweeting tweets from people in a similar position.

I entered the Ride 100 ballot on a whim after having a great time the first time I took part. It was good news again, I got a place for the 2014 event, so I paid my money and intended to cycle. When the event came round, my situation had changed and I had made other plans to do my ‘Iron Person’ that weekend so I deferred my place.

This week another email popped into my inbox. It was time to pay my fee again for my deferred place to do Ride 100 in 2015. I like this race. I’d like to do it again. I just don’t know whether I’ll want to do it in August next year because, right now, that seems like a very long way away.