Triathlete

It's really hard for me to blog about this. I'm trying so hard to put the right words into this to convey how yesterday went. I've never had trouble with this before - I just write what I think.

The triathlon was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I thought it wouldn't be that bad. In some ways, I was right. My body, although sore, isn't feeling quite as punished as after the marathon. Everyone said that I was in a better mood yesterday than after the marathon. In some ways, it was less physically challenging. But in many ways, it was much, much worse.

The weekend started on Friday, with a race orientation. I felt strong during that, although I was noticing that everyone was VERY hard core. It's not like running, where people can kind of just sign up on a whim. I've noticed that most people, unlike me, do not just sign up for a triathlon on a whim. Most people are very, very dedicated to it. But I still wasn't too concerned and I left feeling confident.

On Saturday, I took my bike down to the transition area. Wow...there were a LOT of bike racks!!! I was in row 41 and there were a lot of women my age in my area. I managed to deflate my back tire and finally had to ask someone for help. Yeah...it's true. I still have trouble with my tires, haha. The girl who helped me said that last year she had talked to a girl who didn't know how to pump air into her tires and laughed...I failed to admit that I was in the same spot. Silly pride!

Later, my parents arrived in DC and we went over to my friend's house for dinner. My friend Emily and I cooked for my parents and our boyfriends and we had a really nice dinner. I was completely distracted and relaxed - I have awesome friends and family :) I felt really lucky to be able to be with them the night before the race.

Race day arrived quickly. All of the sudden it was 4:45 am and I was awake and drinking coffee. I had my bag packed and ready and at 5:30 my parents picked me up and drove me down to the transition area. I was feeling pretty hard core as I walked in with all the other athletes. I went over to my transition area and waited. I set up my transition towel with my shoes, helmet, sunglasses, race belt...a girl came over and told me that the mechanics on duty would pump air into your tires FOR YOU, so naturally I ran my bike over. He mentioned that my tires were pretty low...I said it must have lost a lot of air, haha.

I put on some body glide and put my wetsuit on to my waist. We were herded out of the transition area at 7am and into the swim pen. Even now as I write this I am becoming apprehensive! What will happen to our young heroine?

Time flew as I waited with everyone for my swim wave to be called. The elite group did the swim in under a half hour - insanity!! We watched them jealously as they came back in to their bikes. I kept telling myself that it would be me soon...but I almost didn't believe it. As we slowly lined up, my dad appeared on the sidelines! I was so happy to see him. He told me my mom was closer to the water and they both cheered me on as I approached the water.

I was high on adrenaline or SOMETHING, because I tried very hard to be excited and not nervous. But as soon as they let us jump in the water, I felt my ego deflate. I could see NOTHING as soon as my head was submerged. Nothing. Just a murky, scary mess. They told us to get ready, to GO! And we were off!

IMMEDIATELY, I started to hyperventilate. Not enough that I couldn't move but enough to make scary gasping sounds. I wasn't scared of drowning, I knew the strokes but I couldn't move. I don't really know why it was so hard. It was completely psychological. I slowly, painfully made my way forward. I won't lie to you dear readers, I barely put my head under the entire time. When I did, it made breathing that much more difficult. I knew that if I got under the Memorial Bridge, I might see my boyfriend and friends. But I was just in a complete blind panic. The bridge I knew was pretty far, so by the time I got there, I was tired and still gasping for my strength. I FINALLY found a kayak to hold onto at a buoy.

USA Triathlon official rules state that you can hold onto a kayak as long as they don't move you forward. I tried earlier to find one but couldn't find one that wouldn't take me far off the course. Honestly, if I had found one earlier, I think I would have told him to take me in. I was petrified, I'm not going to lie. Before I even got to the bridge, I just wanted them to take me out. It was only thinking about all the people who had come to see me, all the people I had bragged to, whined to, that kept me going. At the time, I was doing it for them, not for myself.

At this first kayak, he told me the next buoy, actually visible, was the halfway point. But other than that he didn't really talk much. I finally pulled myself together and with a few hail Mary's, made my way to the next buoy. There was another kayak there and I flagged him down. This guy was much more talkative. I asked him if I was more than halfway. I searched for confirmation that there was an end in site. I told him that I didn't know if I could do it. He asked me if I wanted water, then told me that I was fine. That I would finish. He told me, don't worry, you'll finish.

This man saved me. He saved me and I wish that I could thank him for it. He saved my race. The rest of the way, as I pushed forward, I just remembered that he believed in me, this stranger who I never met, believed in me. If he said I would finish, I would finish. I didn't hold onto another kayak the whole time - I just pushed forward. It wasn't easy, it never got easy. But I knew that I was going to finish.

When I saw the final turn, I knew I would continue.

An interesting side note...I read online that it's easier to just pee into your wetsuit than to find a portapotty. so I figured at the beginning of the swim that I would just do that in the water. But I was too scared the whole time to even pee!! But as I ran out of the water, I knew that I would not make it through the bike ride unless I peed. But I didn't want to stop at a port-a-potty, ESPECIALLY since I was barefoot. So I made an unfortunate decision. As I arrived at my bike, I stood there and peed into my wetsuit. Yep. I peed myself. You make interesting choices during a race like this. I have never done that in any running race, but then again, you don't wear a wetsuit in a marathon.

Then I yanked off my wetsuit and pulled on my cycling shoes. As I tried to run with my bike to the point where I could mount, I saw my friends and family all together, cheering me on! It pumped me up and I was off!

The cycling really wasn't that bad. I think I approached it too recreationally and didn't really push myself as hard as maybe I could have. But honestly, I wanted it to be a little enjoyable. But it seemed to go quickly. I realized that I was pretty far at the end of the pack. Being in one of the last swim waves and being REALLY slow in it didn't help at all. I passed a lot of people on the bike, but by this point I didn't care about time. I just wanted to finish. I saw a woman who was seriously injured at the beginning and a bunch of people who had technical problems with their bikes - flats, broken chains, one woman whose pedal had come off..I knew I was lucky.

By the end of the cycling part, I tried to run my bike in. I was pretty bow-legged. I saw my cheer group again and was cheered up! I knew that this was my time - it was the run!!! But my legs were so sore! I wasn't really anticipating it to be as bad as it was. This transition was quicker and I made it out to the run. A LOT of people were walking it. It was painful for the first few miles, then it kind of evened out. I was really excited to be in my comfort zone.

The run was pretty easy - only 6 miles. I was feeling pretty good for most of it. Near the end my mom found me and ran with me for a little bit! It's amazing how much someone can boost your spirits. Having my mom and my dad and my friends there just changed the race for me. It made it more than just about me. I was doing it for them too. I wanted to be faster so I could see them again.

At the end, there they were, cheering and high fiving me! It was the best to see them there! I got my medal and handed back my race chip and immediately went off to find them.

And now, it's over. It's done. I've done it. Several times during the race I had to remind myself that this was it! This was my race! It was what I'd been waiting for! But at the time it was just so important to focus on what I was doing. And now it's over and I'm convinced that I will never do one again. Never again will I put myself through such torture! IronMan tattoo be damned! Who needs it!?

Well...at least...that's what I say now.

But in reality, I'm proud. It was the challenge I was looking for and instead of quitting I finished. I never could have done it without everyone's support - everyone was out there with me during it in my head. But in the end, I had to buckle down and finish it with my own body, my own strength, and my own commitment.

And now it's over. There's a reason why my blog is called MarathonMennone and not TriathlonMennone. It's back to the marathons for me!