Out of My League

Yesterday, I completed my first Olympic distance tri – 1.5k swim, 40k bike, 10k run.  This tri is an annual training triathlon in memory of Louie Bonpua, one of our team honorees that passed away.  I can’t watch this video on YouTube and not cry every time.  Every time.  Although we get marked and race bibs the only race is against yourself. They are training events.  So while I was nervous to get an Olympic distance under my belt, I also just kept reminding myself that this was just training and not to worry.  

76 is quite appropriate

The swim started out fine and I finished in a time I was happy with.  Just like the sprint tri, I took the time to change as it was 38 degrees out and I wasn’t going to ride in wet clothes. 

The bike ride was tough.  I have always had an issue with expectations and when they don’t go according to plan.  And, this bike ride did not go according to plan.  Our coach said, “it’s flat.” I saw the elevation map and I heard someone say, “It’s just 400 ft” to which I thought to myself, “That’s a piece of cake.”  So the first 5 miles of the bike were somewhat garbage miles through town trying to get out to the nice road.  I managed to hit every stop light.  There were also a lot of stop signs.  I blew through four of them (when it was safe, even though it’s illegal) because I was frustrated that I couldn’t get my speed up.  Finally I hit the open road.  It was definitely a beautiful place to ride, although I had some lingering frustration from all the lights I hit.  But, there was one hill in particular that ripped me to pieces and spit me out.  Sometimes hills are deceiving. You see a big one and think it’s going to be tough and you ride up it with no problem.  Other times it can look flat, but you’re riding in your little ring out of nowhere wondering how you are even climbing.  But, when I saw this hill, I said out loud, “Are you fucking kidding me?”  I know I have made it up hills steeper than this so far.  But I think it was the whole expectation of “it’s flat” that just really messed with my mind.  At some point I had to stop, get my mind back together, and get back on again.  After I got up what I will now call Stupid Hill, I was riding in a cloud of fog.  My glasses were wet, it was tough to see, and I was worried about a car coming around the bend since the visibility wasn’t great.  I got to the turnaround point where one of our team honorees was volunteering with his family.  They fed me, refilled my water, held my bike, and cleaned my glasses (thank you Team Frankie!).  But I was just still completely emotional from Stupid Hill.  I start to get my confidence back a few miles after the turnaround until some a-hole in a bigass Tonka Truck speeds by obnoxiously.  After that passes, I’m ok again.  I manage to tackle a healthy hill with grace and come down with a descent where I clocked 35.2mph in a 35mph zone (I'm pretty sure that was Stupid Hill on the backside), which gave me a little happiness boost.  The fog had lifted and it was just beautiful out.  As we roll back into town (now I’m riding with the Sweep because I’m last) and start the garbage miles again, we are stopped at a light where the only place for the cyclists to be is in one of the car lanes (where it even specifically has a spot on the ground that says the bicyclists need to share that lane with the cars).  Of course, once you cross the intersection, the road gets back to normal and we have a bike lane again.  However, another Tonka Truck rode up behind us, revving his engine and did the full “slam on your horn unnecessarily and for a really long time” honk.  I yelled “fuck you” to him even though he couldn’t hear me.  I was so completely rattled by that experience (which will be a later blog entry).  I couldn’t shake it for whatever reason.  About fifteen minutes later, I arrive back at transition.  My feet are frozen and I am the last participant (lovely).  I am already at 3 hours and I wanted to be done in 4.5 hours.  But, I knew the run would be full of hills and that wasn’t likely.  I take my time changing shoes, hitting up the bathroom, getting some nutrition, and trying to grapple with why I’m so emotional – the missed expectation on the bike, the stupid trucks, and the reality of being last. 

The whole being last thing is ok because this isn’t a race for me.  It’s a physical and emotional journey.  My goal is simply to finish.  But, being last means that everyone is going to be waiting for me.  Some of them will be waiting 2 hours!  And, I don’t like that unwanted attention.  However, the benefit to being last is I have people to walk with me.  We all can’t feel our feet so we walk for about 6 minutes before the blood starts to flow again.  And during that time I talk about how I have learned so many lessons about missed expectations in the past with work, friends, and boyfriends.  So why can’t I just apply those same lessons to this training?  Hopefully soon enough I will.

Waiting for our toes to defrost

Anyway, once the run starts to veer up, it’s time to walk as my walk is faster than my run up those hills.  It turns in to a really gorgeous and beautiful hike.  When we get to a point where we can run again, we do, and I feel like a football player doing drills, dodging major holes in the ground where a horse came through in the mud and left huge divots.  Then we get to the next section of the course and it was a full on hike – tree roots, rocks, streams and creeks to cross, etc., but it was beautiful.  So I just walked it, soaked it all in, and enjoyed it.  I wasn’t comfortable running the downhill with all those obstacles so we trekked down until I felt comfortable running again.  Then we repeated the first part of the course, picking up all the flags that marked the course along the way, since no one else was coming through.  I finished in 4 hours and 58 minutes.  Pretty pathetic.  I’m thankful my race in November is a flat run!

After the long car ride home, I had some trouble getting out of the car and walking to the restaurant.  And, I was literally laughing hysterically at myself at how hard it was for me to walk out of the restaurant.  But once you get moving it’s fine.  When I got home, I stretched and rolled, took my first ice bath (brrrrrrrr), and sported some compression socks.  Despite some slight cramping last night, I woke up pretty pain-free.  

So how do I feel?  I feel good, despite being out of my league.  It’s a little unfortunate that the 10K had all the elevation it did because it would have been a nice test for me to run the whole 6 miles and see how I felt.  I know the course was great training for my teammates.  However, I’m a novice runner.  Most of the team is fairly athletic with multiple Olympic Tri’s, marathons, and Ironmans under their belts already.  I was pretty impressed that I wasn’t fatigued.  My legs were tender after the bike, but did not feel like Jell-o.  I could have walked another 10K, if I had more nutrition to refuel.   And, I wasn’t in a dark place.  I was happy.  I enjoyed the hike.  And, because I was last, I had Jen, the designated Sweep, to walk and run with. 

The benefit of being last -- having a Sweep