I am a sensational triathlete*
Well, if by "sensational" you mean, "sensationally incompetent." But I did finish the Danskin tri, and I wasn't even the last one to do so. Click OPEN WIDE for race report.
I knew I wasn't prepared to do the full event...especially the swim but I wasn't so hot on the run either. My 4 month training plan didn't really work out, so I went into this thing with absolutely no expectations.
This tri weekend was full of fiascos from start to finish. First off, the packet pickup on Saturday had a hard-close time of 3:00 pm. We live about 2 1/2 hours' drive from the site, so absolutely had to be on the road by noon at the latest. Still, I thought that keeping the beginner "field trip" ride on the schedule would be manageable. After all, it's only 24 miles, it starts at 7:30...even if it's the worst ride ever, it'll be done by 10:30, right? Besides, I had missed leading the last two field trips because both my trips to WI fell over the first Saturday of the month, so I was feeling a little guilty asking someone else to lead yet another one.
So of course, it was the worst ride ever. One girl had two flats in the first 6 miles, we ran out of flat-changing gear, everyone turned around at the 8 mile mark and I flatted on the way back as well. Then I sat on an anthill while waiting for the others to come back with the truck, and ended up with half a dozen ant bites on my ass. Woo! We (a triathlete friend--E.--went with me) were still out of town by 11:30, but it was with extremely-rushed last minute packing and a flat rear tire on my bike.
We got to the packet pickup at around 2:00, which was plenty of time. The pickup went smoothly, as did the bike drop-off (I did a field-change of the rear tube in the parking lot, since the bikes had to be dropped off by 4:00 that afternoon). We stopped at a bike shop and picked up some flat supplies, then headed to the hotel. After a little bit of confusion about which exit to take (the guy who answered the 800 number had some trouble differentiating between "north" and "south"), we got there, got checked in, prepared our transition bags and relaxed a bit before dinner. Then we had dinner with one of E's friends, and turned in early. I was beginning to think that things were going to be okay.
Bright and early Sunday morning, we gathered our tri stuff and headed out of the hotel an hour before the transition area closed. Plenty of time, right? Well, yes, if there hadn't been a line of cars a mile long going into the parking area, and only 5 shuttles to the transition area to transport ~2500 racers and all the spectators. We got to the bus area at 6:40, the bus left at 6:45, and we got there just as they announced that the transition area was closed. Um, I don't think so. So we ran in, ignoring the constant admonitions over the loudspeaker that "the transition area is now closed! The race is starting! Get out now!" No time to set out transition gear, air up tires, de-stress in any way...I just dumped my bag and bugged out.
Then I went back and got my swim cap.
Then I went back and got my goggles.
As I was getting my body markings, I realized that I had forgotten to take off my shoes. Grr. Thankfully, these were not shoes I would need again during the event, so I didn't worry too much about it. I took them off and set them by a tree about 100 yards from the swim start. (and forgot to go back for them after the event...good thing they were $10 Target specials)
The swim start area was a madhouse, and I was glad that I had a seasoned triathlete with me...if I hadn't, it would have been terrifying. Well, more terrifying...I was already practically sick at the thought of a 1/2-mile open-water swim. Those buoys? They were far.
About 10 minutes later, I was on the starting line, listening to Sally Edwards give her little pep talk, trying not to vomit or pass out. 6-5-4-3-2-1, and we were off! I tried freestyle for a little while, but was kicking too much and wearing myself out 20 yards in. I tried breaststroke, and discovered that I suck at breaststroke and couldn't make myself go anywhere. I flipped over on my back and tried backstroke for a while, which worked fine...until I flipped back over and realized that no matter where I aimed myself, I was veering left. Hello current! Meanwhile, the first buoy was still far ahead. Behind me, another red cap (that was my wave) was signaling for help from the swim angels, and I felt a perverse surge of relief. Though I was fading rapidly, at least I would not be the first.
I started survival swimming...sort of a hybrid freestyle-breaststroke-doggy paddle, where my head was out of the water the whole time, but I was still moving at a satisfactory pace. When I got tired, I flipped and floated. This lasted me till about 10 yards from the 2nd canoe, when the next wave of swimmers started to pass me. The water was choppy, I was tired, and every time I tried to breathe I was getting water up my nose. My feet were sinking. My arms were shaking. My goggles were fogging. I could no longer even see the buoy through my goggles, so I shifted my focus to making it to the nearest canoe. I made it there and hung on for a couple minutes to catch my breath, the terror starting to tighten its grip. This was a half-mile swim, and I hadn't even made it to the first of the 4 buoys.
I tried to give myself a little pep talk, then set off again. Less than 20 yards later, I was frantic, flipping over to float, then trying a backstroke, veering off course, trying a freestyle, wearing myself out, sinking, breathing water, oh-dear-god-where-the-fuck-is-the-next-canoe-I-AM-GOING-TO-DROWN. After I somehow made it to the kayak, I rested and tried to calm down. I set off swimming slowly, breathing every couple strokes, but I didn't feel like I was moving at all. The terror hit me when I was almost to the first buoy--I surrendered and raised my hand for help. A swim angel made it to me and talked me in to the canoe behind the buoy, where I rested for a ridiculous amount of time, babbling incoherently and practically crying.
I composed myself finally, and tried to set off again. By this time, I had reached the point where both the wind and the current were directly against us, and waves of stronger swimmers were coming up fast behind/around me. After about a minute of this, somewhere around 300 yards into the swim, my resolve broke completely. I flailed, I sank, I swallowed/inhaled about a gallon of lake water, raised my hand for help. I have never felt more mortal or pathetic in my entire life. Once again, I was rescued by a swim angel.
"Hey, you're doing fine...what's your name?"
"Joy. I don't think...I can make it the rest...of the way." [hitching sobs, coughing]
"My name's Denise, and I'll be with you right till the end. We're about 1/3 of the way now."
I burst into genuine, hopeless tears.
She handed me a swim noodle, and became my new favorite person in the entire world. We sat there a minute or two, while she asked me about myself, slowly got me moving again. Every so often, she'd encourage me to swim without the noodle, then give it back when I started to flail. As we went on, she'd stop and help others, and I'd wait all weak and kitteny, not wanting to keep her from doing her job but too scared to leave her side. Gradually, agonizingly slowly, she talked me around the buoys while I thanked her for sticking with me and apologized for being such an under-prepared drama queen. Finally, maybe 10 yards from the finish chute, I figured I could make it out of the water without the noodle. I handed it back, thanked her again, and swam to the end where there was a big burly volunteer to yank us out of the water. I have never been more grateful.
I took off my cap and goggles, and did the walk of shame up the chute to the transition area, trying to get my land legs back. By the time I got back to my bike (it was one of only two still in my row), I had mostly recovered my wits. Still, with the panic still wearing off and my stuff still crammed in my bag, it took me a while to get everything together...during which time I discovered that I had packed neither socks nor running shorts. Awesome! Luckily, my bike shoes are designed so that they're not outrageously uncomfortable without socks (no inner seams). I threw them on, grabbed my helmet, checked my bike tires, and jogged toward the bike start. About halfway there, I had to go back for my bike computer. Doh!
Finally, I was on the part of the course I was comfortable with. I passed a bunch of hybrids on the way to the first corner and was feeling pretty good about myself (one of the nice things about being slower than Christmas in the water is that most of the fast cyclists are already long gone by the time you hit the bike course. *grin*). I hit the corner at around 18 mph, no problem, and ran straight into a short steep hill. I had been warned about it by a girl in the port-a-potty line, so I was still feeling pretty confident. Unfortunately, she could not have predicted that crosswind, or the fact that they caution tape between the cones at the side of the road had been draped with too much slack. Before I really knew what was going on, a huge gust of wind came from the right side, the caution tape blew over my head and had me by the neck. Luckily, I was able to stop before it completely clotheslined me, but the spectators got some cheap entertainment. There was a guy with a camera about 10 feet away...I almost asked him for pictures. :)
So, I shook that off and finished climbing the hill. The rest of the course was pretty uneventful. After the next turn, it was all tailwind for 5 miles or so, and I felt like superwoman...all passing people left and right, going 25 mph uphill, 35 mph down. Then we turned, of course, and I was a mere mortal again. I also had to walk up the last part of one hill that kind of snuck up on me. It was right after a downhill 90-degree turn, and I was overgeared when I started going up again. I tried getting out of the saddle and powering through it, but it just wasn't happening. After chugging up another hill at about 8 mph, I reached down for my water bottle and discovered...I didn't have any. I had left them in transition. Awesome! By this point, though, I was 3/4 of the way through the course so it wasn't a big deal. The last uphill was brutal, too, with a semi-steep incline and a 15-20 mph headwind, but I managed to stay on my bike for it. Even with the hills and wind, however, the bike course was by far the most fun part of the event for me. I was almost sad when I had to rack Keiko up again and hit the run.
Or, in my case, walk. By this time, I wasn't even pretending to be "racing". I sat down next to my bike, took my time wiping off my feet and changing my shoes, clipped on my race number and stroooolled on over to the run start. I got some water, ate some jelly beans, and set off for a little 3-mile power walk. Nothing major really happened on this part...I ran for the cameras the first time, then tried again about a 1/2 mile later. I yelled encouragement to the bikers as they passed us, made conversation with the other walkers/runners as we passed each other. After what seemed like forever and yet no time at all, I could see the finishing chute. Dude, I was sooo ready.
With spectators shouting encouragement, ringing cowbells, waving, snapping pictures, I made it to the Danskin banners and started jogging to the finish line. Sally Edwards was there to give us a high-five as we crossed the line, and I was DONE. Footsore and exhausted, I picked up my finisher's medal, grabbed a bottle of water, and started looking for E. She was sitting just off the finish, looking refreshed and kind of bored (she had been done for over an hour). We picked up our stuff from transition and began the long walk back to the expo center with bikes/bags/assorted crap in tow (the shuttles couldn't load bikes, so we had to walk them back to the parking area). Now really feeling my blisters and the effects of too much sun, I was very grateful that we had parked on the end closest to the bus drop. We found the car, packed up, hit the showers at the hotel, and went home triathletes. Mission accomplished!
Once I got home I looked up my official results: 2306/2592 overall, 387/406 in my age group. Say it with me now...
I totally wasn't last! :)
*for each wave of swimmers in the Danskin triathlon, Sally Edwards (founder and champion of the event) does this pep talk that ends in a cheer ("what kind of swimmer are you?! What kind of biker are you?!", etc.), and give each wave a different word to answer. Ours was "sensational".
Posted by Joy at June 10, 2008 10:49 AM
