Yesterday was the big day. The day I'd been training for...with equal parts excitement and dread...for the past three months. The Women of Steel Triathlon. And I made it! I can now count myself among the few and the proud...and call myself a triathlete! Yes, I'm being a bit melodramatic. But after I got home yesterday afternoon and Bryan wrapped me in a big hug, I found myself crying. Not because it had been hard, though it was. And not because I was exhausted, though I was that too. But just because I felt like I had just accomplished something huge. In the full spectrum of things competing in a triathlon may not amount to much, I know. But never in a million years would I have thought I could do something like this. And I worked HARD for it. So to me, it was a big deal.
There were 15 of us from my neighborhood doing the tri. We all drove down together the night before to pick up our information packets, check out the pool, drive the bike route, have a big carb-filled pasta dinner at The Olive Garden and then check into the hotel rooms we had booked earlier in the month. Plans had been for some heavy girly gabbing and partying but most of us were tired and some of us were seriously nervous about the next day. (Count me in that group). We were in bed by 10:30. When the alarm went off at 6:00 the next morning I have to admit that my first thought was "Oh no!" My stomach was filled with butterflies. I had to force the oatmeal I was having for breakfast down my throat because I had lost my appetite. I was pretty nervous.
Even though I had been at the tri site the night before, it looked much more overwhelmingly crowded when we arrived Saturday morning. I made my way to my pre-assigned transition spot and set up my gear. My bike hanging on the rack, my towel laying on the ground on which I put my biking shoes, running shoes, socks, sunglasses, helmet, and snacks. I grabbed my swim cap and goggles and then headed over to be "body marked". Basically this meant that they took a permanent marker and wrote my race number on both my upper arms and also wrote my age on my left calf. And as I was racing throughout the next few hours it was kind of interesting to see people's ages as I passed them...or as they passed me. At one point I was running behind a 61 year old woman. Does it sound horrible of me if I admit that I badly wanted to make sure I passed her? That I didn't want a 61 year old woman beating me? At the same time, I did give thought to how awesomely tough she must have been to be doing this at her age! (And yes, I did pass her...)
The 300 meter swim started at 8:00. They had us line ourselves up in different groups according to how fast we thought we could swim. I placed myself back in the 9-10 minute area. And then stood there for the next 40 minutes waiting for my turn. There were two sections of swimmers on either side of the pool and they were letting them jump in every 12 seconds but wow, it sure took awhile. Finally it was my turn. I jumped in, started swimming, got halfway down the lane and thought, "Oh crap...I don't know if I can do this!" I'd practiced 300 meters plenty of times but the pool I'd trained in had shorter laps...which meant more of them, certainly, but my body was used to stopping every 25 meters instead of 50. So I was used to getting a good breath in every time I'd hit the wall to turn around. Not the case here. Kind of threw me off a bit. But I stuck with it. I did the freestyle, backstroke, sidestroke and breaststroke...all to get myself through it. I even walked a bit in the shallow end when I'd get too close to the swimmer in front of me. But I did it. Big sigh of relief. The hardest part...for me, anyhow, was over.
I went back over to my transition area and got myself ready for biking. The bike ride was 12.75 miles. This was only my 2nd real bike ride and two decent sized hills were involved. Well, four hills, really, because we did the loop twice. But I surprised myself by doing pretty well and really enjoying it. And those clipless pedals I was originally worried about getting? I could feel how productive they were making me and was quite glad that I had chosen to get them despite my fears. The whole course was really well layed out. There were policemen at each stop sign and signal giving those of us on bikes and running the right of way so we didn't have stop for traffic. And there were tri workers along the way with no job other than to cheer us on.
I pulled my bike into my transition area and was putting on my running shoes when one of my friends came over. She was eating oranges and looking relaxed...had just finished her race. And I still had 3 miles of running to go! But she said she'd be waiting for me at the finish line and pushed me on my way. I can run 3 miles now without too much problem. But not necessarily when it's coming after swimming and biking! And so, I admit, I did choose to walk up those two hills. I have no doubt I could've pushed myself and shaved a few minutes off my end time. Maybe next year. As I rounded the corner into the finish line a bunch of the women I had come with were waiting for me, cheering me on. It felt good.
In the middle of everything I had told myself that I'd probably never to choose to do a triathlon again. And yet, this morning as I woke up with a sore tail bone from biking, a sore shoulder from my backstroke, and various other sore and stiff muscles I was already planning in my head how next year will be. (One thing I already know...to bring a hat or bandana to cover my horrible hair for group pictures like this one. I look truly hideous!)
My overall time 01:51:19
Swim 00:10:47
First Transition 00:05:18
Bike 00:56:48
Second Transition 00:02:17
Run 00:36:49