Triathalivin' - Part One

My Vanna White tri pic.  Just one more
for the modeling portfolio.  I could
dominate Ugly Race Pics.

So.  It was a pretty blah weekend.  I ran some errands, did some laundry, oh, and COMPLETED MY FIRST TRIATHLON.

It took a mere four months of five workouts per week to prepare for this bad boy.  However, the real prep for this triathlon started two days prior as I became so nervous I gave myself diarrhea.  For two days. That was pretty awesome.  Also, you can totally do a triathlon on three hours sleep.  You know, just in case you are up late laying in bed imagining all the terrible things that will surely occur the next morning packing your gear. (FYI?  Probably a manure truck won't pull a Back to the Future on your minivan, but in case it does, message me because I have a stellar exit plan already in place. Because I use my time wisely.)

4:00 a.m. Pre-deuce.

Brian set his alarm for 3:30 a.m. so he could shower (?) before we left, so I woke up with him.  We needed to leave around 4:00 a.m. (I know what you are thinking, "4:00 a.m.,THE HECK?")  My triathlon was two hours away, and I needed to be there at 6:30.  For those of you who know math and wonder about the extra half an hour, I also needed to factor in Deuce Time.  (Because why make a triathlon harder by dealing with Runner's Trots?  I'm a planner, people.)

Upon arrival I got the best. surprise. ever.  Sarah!  She wasn't sure she could make it because she has a real, grown-up, medical type job that sometimes requires her to be present for spontaneous surgery.  (Well, unplanned surgery would be more accurate.  It's not like she has a natural impulse or tendency, without effort or premeditation, to suddenly operate.) She brought all her tri gear and wondered if I would like her to join me.  Dude.  This was turning into the best triathlon scenario possible.

At registration I got my race packet, ankle chip, and then got marked.  This was pretty much my favorite part of the whole experience, as it really fulfilled my Ironman fantasies.  I got a giant "S" on one arm and leg (for Sprint) and a "33" on the other arm and leg for my age. (I may have had a minor panic attack based on second guessing how old I am.)

Brian admitted he was wrong forgave me for being
grumpy and took my picture

Next I had to set up my transition area.  This started by Brian and I almost getting a divorce over putting the tire back on my* bike.  I might have been a teensy anxious and a little quick to threaten his life if he screwed up the assembly point out when he needed to make some adjustments in helping me.  I finally got my bike assembled and racked, my gear laid out, and Sarah and I went for a quick warm-up run in the parking lot. Then we headed to the beach.

The swim course was a simple out and back.  At 500 yards, it is one of the shortest sprint swim distances you can do, but that didn't stop it from being the leg of the tri I was most worried about.  You know, because of the leeches.

Sarah and I waving.  I told you I was
pretty hot in my tri shorts.  Also the
green caps are great for scaring leeches
looking ridiculous.

I started off in the water by peeing.  Then I made my way to the back of the pack where they tell all open water virgins to hang out.  (Fleeing the scene of the crime, if you will.) At the horn blast I started swimming. But it turns out that while all my swim training was time well spent, I should have spent a few weeks honing my MMA skills, because triathlon swimming is apparently a lot more about beating the snot out of people being aggressive than I imagined.

Actually?  Remember how worried I was about the swimming?  It was the easiest part. The waves were really big, but so big that instead of my stroke chopping mid-wave, my whole body floated with it and I swam much more efficiently than expected. The big waves made it really hard to spot the course bouys, but thankfully I had my choice of swimmers to follow, so that wasn't a huge issue.  (I did decide to skip the tethering.  I think it was a good choice.) The water was deep; most of the swim was in twenty feet or so of water, so no plants.  And the fish were repelled by all the triathlete urine humans in the water.

(*Extra fun fact that effectively demonstrates how much Navy Sealism I embody?  The word on the street from the veteran triathletes is that it was a really difficult swim.  So yeah, Hoorah.)

I'm bringing sexy back.

(I did manage to get off course once.  I decided that since I was in the home stretch I could just plow full speed ahead without doing much sighting.  I mean, I would hit the shore eventually, right? This is not a great plan unless you want to end up swimming in the opposite direction from the beach.)


The timed swim continued until you entered the transition area, which was a long.freaking.way. from the shoreline.  It was about a hundred yards of soft, deep sand, so I totally didn't need to exfoliate my feet that night.  Thank you, triathlon. 

You gotta a license for those guns?

My swim to bike transition (T1) was not the fastest thing I've ever done, but I did manage to pull it off without looking like a SPAZZ like a lot of other triathletes I've seen, so mission accomplished. I did make it into the official photos.  I'm pretty sure they are naming next year's triathlon after me and my bike helmet, which I wasn't aware made me look like an extra from Alien.  Just an added bonus.


Then came the bike portion, and something happened that was so unexpected, it became a major game changer for me.  I will write all about it tomorrow. (And THAT'S called a cliffhanger.)(This cliffhanger is just like when Cherry got stuck in the refrigerator and almost died)(but Punky Brewster saved her in the next episode.)(Except I think that was all wrapped up in one episode.)(Because seven year olds can't handle that much dramatic tension.)(So actually this is nothing like that episode of Punky Brewster, and more just a trip down memory lane for some of us.)(A traumatic trip.)(Sorry about that.)

Official swim time?  14:12 (that includes the beach walk run to transition)
Official T1 time?        2:52 (that includes me focusing on not looking like a            
                                       panicking SPAZZ)




*"My" bike is really one of Sarah's road bikes I borrowed for the race.  It's just too cumbersome to type "Sarah's bike" every time I refer to the bike.  Just a full disclaimer.