Tri Report

I really meant to post sooner, but the last week has been just insane. I've had a jam-packed week full of errands and appointments, M's birthday, and then M herself came down with some kind of flu. Then we lost our Internet connection for a couple days, and I've been working like a mad woman editing a book that has to be done by the 25th. It seemed like one thing after another kept getting in the way. However, I've got a little window before I head off to parent-teacher conference, so I thought I take a few minutes to write about the triathlon.

Where to start . . . Friday night I had to check in at the health club where the race would start. I got J and M shuttled off to stay with friends, and then made the two hour drive with B & K to pick up my packet for the race. While I was there they offered tours of the general race layout. Everything was pretty straightforward at first, though I was a little worried about the path from the pool to the transition area. It was a concrete walkway and stairs that were sure to be slippery, and I was going to have to run it barefoot. Now running barefoot on pavement may not sound like a big deal, but when it's summer in AZ, you know that you are risking 3rd degree burns by doing that. Still, the swim would be first, so I continued on the tour hoping it would still be cool enough.

But then I saw the general run course.

It was all uphill for 1.5 miles. Granted, I was going to get to run downhill on the way back, but still . . . when I called Terence after the tour I could barely speak for the panic. "I'm going to have to RUN UP A HILL!!!"

By the next morning when Terence and I arrived before daybreak to set up my transition area, my panic had morphed into giant-sized butterflies lurching about my stomach. I was sipping water constantly, trying to make sure I would be hydrated, but at moments I wondered if I wasn't just going to throw it all up from nerves. My number was 95, so when they called us down to the pool area, I had to stand in line and watch 94 people jump into the pool in front of me, my own fright escalating to mammoth proportions with every passing minute. The guy in front of me kept reassuring me that I would do fine, that it was all for fun, but I kept looking at the increasingly choppy water in the pool and wondering if I was going to drown.

I didn't drown. Obviously. But I had my moments of wondering if I was going to make it. My goggles were leaking, and I had this group of three other people trying to pass me who didn't actually pass so I was surrounded by flailing arms and legs, splashing water into my mouth and nose every time I tried to breathe. Finally, I reached the far end of the pool and one of the volunteers yanked me up the ladder. Thank goodness! I don't know if I would have been able to climb out.

Running to the next transition area I reached that concrete path. The volunteers told me to walk as it was so slippery, but even at a walk, I slid and nearly cracked my head on the pavement. Ooops. (At least it was only mildly warm and not scorching though.)

Once on my bike, it felt like I was taking a break. The bike course was three 4 mile loops, and the first part was all downhill. I was still soaking wet, but this is AZ (it hit a high of 109 that day) so it felt really good. The uphill half was a bit more challenging, but I had borrowed my mother's lovely new hybrid bike for the race, and it was pretty easy to ride compared to my own. I actually passed people going up the hill, and some of them were on real racing bikes. Woohoo for that!

The last stretch I ended up pushing myself really hard so I could stay ahead of this 22 year old girl who kept leapfrogging ahead of me. I guess it was the competitive side of me rearing its head. Anyway, I beat her back into the transition area, only to face my Waterloo:

The Run of Death.

I know there are some of you out there who would have skipped happily up that hill without breathing hard, but running is NOT my strong point. Even if I haven't swam and biked beforehand. It was hot, and I was tired from my pointless racing up the last hill on the bike. (If I could do it over, I would take it a leeetle easier on the bike part so I had some energy for the end.)

About halfway up the hill I began to wonder why on earth I had ever signed up for this. It was my personal little hell, and I was doing it voluntarily! What was wrong with me??? By three-quarters up the hill, I had to stop and walk. My side was cramping up so painfully that I thought I was going to collapse completely. Fortunately, some rational side of my brain chirped up and reminded me that it was better if I walked than if I crumpled in a throbbing heap and couldn't

finish the race. So pretty much I walked the rest of the way up the hill. (I had plenty of company, actually. Even some very athletic looking people in their fancy triathlon outfits had to walk some.)

I passed Brandi on that final stretch going up the hill. She was jogging back down the hill and looked cool and refreshed to me. (I later learned that she was shaking so bad from dehydration she thought she wasn't going to make it either.) Still, she called that I was almost to the top, so I plucked up my courage and pressed on.

Finally, I reached the turnaround and the aid station. I downed most of a cup of water and tossed the rest on my head, hoping to cool down a tad. The sun was a blazing menace by this point in time. Then I headed back down the hill. Downhill was easier, as you might expect, so I was able to jog a little bit again. Still, I could only jog for about 3 minutes before my side cramps threatened to incapacitate me again, so I settled for a jog 3 min/walk 1 min pace.

That was one long 1.5 miles. I thought it was never going to end. But finally, the finish line came into view and I sprinted to the end. OK, it wasn't really a sprint, but it was a faster jog than the limping pace I had been keeping before that. Terence was waiting for me just on the other side, and I collapsed into his arms, literally sobbing. Not with joy, but with pure and utter relief.

But I made it. I am officially now a triathlete. Something I never would have predicted even one measly year ago. It's addictive; I'm already trying to find a way to do another one in November. Call me crazy, I know.