It’s been nearly two weeks since the
big day and I am finally getting around to my race report…life is busy, work is
busy, and it takes a bit of basking in the glow of finishing a triathlon to
feel like sitting down in front of a computer to type.
I don’t normally suffer much from
pre-race jitters. In fact, I really enjoy the process of competition and relish
it, rather than worry over it. However, the triathlon proved to be a different
animal altogether. In the week or so leading up to the race I was a bit of a
mess. I was snippy, emotional, and generally short tempered. Wife figured out
the source of my surliness long before I did and at some point put her hand on
my shoulder and gently suggested that I might be nervous about the race. Well,
duh. Why didn’t I see that right away?! To make matters worse, I had a bit of a
bike debacle on Thursday that led to me buying a brand new road bike on
Saturday—more of that in a moment.
The week leading up to the tri
passed slowly, but then it was suddenly Saturday and we had to head up to
Albany to pick up my race packet—I did not want to add to my stress by having
to pick everything up on Sunday morning. I spent 30 minutes grilling the guy
handing out the packets on every detail from parking to transitions to timing
to race strategy. Then I hung around for a little while longer listening to
other racers ask questions. After a while I glanced back at Wife and decided
she had been patient enough. Race day would be okay. Everything would be fine.
Right? Right?!
So I mentioned the bike debacle.
Basically, I found myself at the local bike shop on Friday night in posession
of two bikes, neither fully functional. This presented a bit of a conundrum,
really. Should I ride the road bike that routinely throws its chain or the mountain
bike that doesn’t really shift? Or, perhaps, go with option three: buy a new
road bike!? After a long conversation, my saint-like Wife gave me the thumbs up
to buy the new road bike. This led to our rushing back from Albany on Saturday
after picking up my race packet so that I could go to the local bike shop and
pick up my new bike. Ed, the long-time owner of Otsego Bicycles in Oneonta, cut
me a serious deal and hooked me up with a totally respectable Specialized
Secteur leftover from 2015. He gave me an hour tutorial on repair, maintenance,
and safety and then sent me out on a test ride. HOLY SMOKES! This is, hands
down, the best bike I have ever ridden by at least 300%. It fits well, shifts
smoothly, is lightweight and responsive, and is super pretty! I have named her
Hildy, and I am completely smitten!
I rode Hildy home and felt pretty
much ready for the tri. That’s right, I got home with my bike at 4pm the day
before the triathlon. While I was super excited about the new bike, this didn’t
really help my stress level a whole lot. I set about packing my bag, checking
my equipment, and generally getting prepared. Running Buddy and I exchanged a
flurry of messages about the logistics of the whole event. We decided that a
5:30am departure would be prudent. I went to bed at 8pm and actually managed to
fall asleep. Wife came to bed and was so super quiet that she didn’t wake me up
(thanks, Wife!). Unfortunately, at about 2am we had an insane, windows-shaking
thunderstorm that woke and kept me up until after 3. The thunder and lightning
sent me into a panic that the race would be cancelled or that I would have to
ride my brand-new, skinny-tired road bike in the rain. I could not calm down or
fall back to sleep. Finally I must have drifted off because my alarm shocked me
awake at 4. Ugh!
I ate a big, proper breakfast and
had a cup of coffee—this was the whole reason I got up so early. I also packed
a cooler with granola bars and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—my all-time
favorite! Everything was damp from the overnight rain but the sky was clearing
and the forecast was nothing but sun and warmth! I loaded my bike and then
Running Buddy arrived and we loaded hers, too. We hit the road.
I am glad we left with plenty of
time because the parking lot was already filling up when we arrived. We went
and set up our bike transitions first. We spent a lot of time arranging and
rearranging. I know I went through a mental checklist of what I would need to
do during the transition: dry off a bit, change my shirt, clean my feet, put on
my socks, tie my sneakers, put on my sunglasses, load up my Gu, don my helmet,
and get moving.
The
careful preparation wasn’t really helping my nervousness, however. As the
minutes ticked by and we started walking over toward the swimming start I could
feel myself panicking. I looked out over the lake and could see the course
outlined by buoys. I had only swam laps (even when we practiced in open water)
so I had never seen the distance in full. It seemed so very far. I could not
believe I would have to swim that far. We made a pit stop at the bathrooms and
for the first time ever I thought I might throw up from competition nerves. I
spent a suspiciously long time in the stall, keeping a line of women waiting
outside. I was approaching a meltdown. I finally emerged and we went to grab
our chips for timing. I had wondered how these work and they are apparently waterproof
and meant to be strapped to your ankle.
Running
Buddy tried her best to talk me down but I am not sure how much I heard…I was
in full panic mode. The skies were overcast and there was a breeze. I was cold,
my stomach felt weird, and all I could do was imagine myself needing to be
rescued by one of the 8 YMCA lifeguards lining the swim course. When I was
pretty sure I couldn’t take any more the race official gathered us around and
explained how the start would work. Each heat would be separated by 4 minutes. I
would be in the third heat. Running Buddy was in the sixth. One minute we were
chatting with a few other people who were also doing their first tri and the
next I had to line up for my heat.
I
waded into the water and was pleasantly surprised by its warmth—I had expected
to stand in 3 feet of ice cold water while I shivered and waited for the 4
minutes to pass until our horn sounded. I was up to my waist in high weeds, but
the warm water compensated a bit. Half of the other women in my heat were also
novices doing their first tri. The atmosphere was friendly and joking, but my
heart was pounding. Then the countdown and the horn sounded!
I
splashed into the water at the back of the pack as planned. But, of course, the
adrenaline surged and my competitive instinct took over. I started swimming way
too hard. This, combined with my terror of the swim portion of the event, meant
I was gasping and having a hard time catching my breath. This caught up with me
as I rounded the first buoy and went to pass another competitor. I managed, in
my flailing, to inhale a big gulp of water and ended up doggy paddling while
choking and spitting out lake water…to the point that a lifeguard and another
competitor asked me if I needed help. Not my finest moment and we were only 90
seconds into the race. Thankfully, I had practiced and rehearsed what to do
when this (inevitably) happened, so I relaxed, slowed down, did the breast
stroke, and caught my breath.
Oddly,
this intense bit of panic and minor drowning was exactly what I needed to calm
down. Once I composed myself, I remembered my form and took off swimming
carefully but steadily. I passed the few close by competitors and worked my way
across the lake. I didn’t finish fast, but I did finish squarely in the middle
of the pack and I almost caught the last woman from the heat before mine!!!!
I
crossed the timing pad from the swim and jogged toward the bike transition area—T1,
for those of you in the know. I completely ignored all of those tips I had
Googled about counting the number of racks and knowing where your bike is and
overshot my row by one. I climbed back under the bike rack so I could access my
stuff and started the transition. At first I was really erratic and rushing too
much. This time I caught myself without having to drown first, took a deep
breath, and slowed down. I swapped shirts, dried off, got my socks and shoes on
without trouble, grabbed my glasses, Gu, and helmet, and headed off to the bike
mounting area. I felt great! I had made a mental note to be sure to hydrate a
lot on the bike and to eat a Gu—in my nervousness before the race I didn’t eat the
granola bar in the car I had planned on and I was worried about getting
dehydrated during the run because I wasn’t carrying any water.
As
I rode I began to pass people one at a time. Slowly but surely I rode down a
number of bikers, calling out, “on your left” as I went by. The bike felt
great! I was pedaling hard the whole time and shifting pretty well for an
amateur. I heard the whir of a bike coming up behind me and started to get a
little discouraged—I hate being passed! But it turned out to be a male rider on
a very expensive racing bike…I could deal with being passed by a guy who spent
$3-5k on his bike! Through the whole 11.5 miles I passed about 20 or so bikers
and was only passed by men on fancy road bikes. I felt incredibly pleased with
myself as I crossed into the run transition area: T2.
I
had practiced the bike to run transition. It is very difficult to get off of a
bike and start running. Your legs feel weird and heavy and unwieldy. You sort
of feel like you are pounding your legs into the ground but not actually moving
anywhere. Anyway, I had practiced this a number of times, but as I went to
start running I realized I had never practiced after a really hard bike ride.
And boy oh boy, it was making a difference. The run began with a downhill which
was compounding the pounding leg problem. Plus, I had ridden 11.5 miles as hard
as I could. It was making it very difficult to run properly. On the upside, my
aging body usually takes a long time to warm up when I start running—not a
problem after coming off of a swim and bike ride—I was fully and completely
warmed up!
After
my legs started working better and I got into the running groove I realized
just how awkward it was that I didn’t have any way to check my pace or keep
track of my mileage—I wasn’t carrying a phone and I don’t have a GPS watch. I
didn’t feel like I was moving very fast but I was having a hard time when I
tried to speed up. I kept running and figured that I would just run as hard as
I could and hope that I didn’t bonk. I came around the corner and heard the
dulcet sounds of cowbells and saw a big tent set up on the side of the road.
There was music blasting, people yelling, and funny signs along the route
including: “Smile if you peed during the swim.” Someone had set up a rocking
aid station and they were having a blast. As I went by I glanced over and
realized I knew the one woman. Then another…all of them, in fact! Apparently,
friends of ours from the area live on the race route and had set up an aid
station! What a fun boost as I huffed and puffed along!!!
The
run portion was an out and back so I knew when I was about half way through. A
passing runner was kind enough to share her pace with me so I at least had a
sense of how fast I was moving. I figured I was around a 10 minute mile, which
is pretty good for me. I mentioned the course started downhill, and since it
was an out and back, you know what that means: it finished on an uphill. At the
bottom of the last hill I passed Running Buddy heading in the other direction.
We hi-fived and whooped and cheered each other on! I came up the hill and
spectators were lining the course, cheering me and everyone around me. I had
gotten passed by more people than I had passed, but all in all I was feeling
pretty good about my effort. I crested the hill, turned the corner, and gave it
my all in the final, flat, 100 yards. As I crossed the timing pad I saw that
the clock read 1:28:56. I was ELATED! I never in a million years thought I could
finish the race in under 1 hour and 30 minutes. I jumped up and down and did a
little dance. I chatted with a woman who finished ahead of me. I headed over
and grabbed some water. I talked with a family who had done the race as a
relay. The mother was super sweet and agreed to take a picture of me and text
it to my phone (which was locked in my car 5 miles away):
I
ambled over to look at the official times—it’s always fun to see your name
posted with your finishing time. And to my complete and total astonishment my
time was listed as 1:20:56! I had neglected to take into account that I started
in the third heat, 8 minutes after the clock was started. I couldn’t believe
it. I looked at the sheet again and again. It was AMAZING! It turns out that I
averaged about 9:25 per mile in the run, and I finished the bike in 42:08
(including both transitions) which was within few minutes of the best female
competitors.
I
grabbed a cereal bar and headed back over to wait for Running Buddy. She came
up the hill, killing it the whole way. I ran and met her at the finish line
where she jumped under the sprinkler and then gave me a very soggy hug!!!!! She
was just as pumped as I was and also finished under her target time!
The
high from finishing the triathlon was pretty intense. We were both exhausted
and started to get a little impatient while we waited for the shuttle for 40
minutes—apparently the second shuttle bus had broken down so there was only one
ferrying participants back and forth. We finally got back to the starting
point, gathered our stuff, and headed out. I had what may have been the most
delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich of my entire life in the car on the
way home. Arriving home, Wife greeted me in the driveway and gave me a big hug
before informing me that I smelled like lake and needed a shower. I agreed
wholeheartedly and got cleaned up. Then I decided I needed beer and pizza,
because when you have finished a triathlon, you have earned that shit!!!!
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| Hildy got a couple of stickers after her awesome Tri performance! |
As a final note, I wanted to thank everyone for supporting me in my attempt to get on the cover of Runner's World Magazine. I finished with over 1600 votes and was absolutely overwhelmed with the love and support I received. Seriously, you guys are amazing and you humble me. That being said, I did not make the cut for the semifinals. But it is all good. Because knowing how much people care about you is way more important than being on a magazine cover (or getting a bunch of free Brooks running gear).
XOXO, DeeDee





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