The Main Event!

The night before the race I woke up at 11:45 pm and couldn’t go back to sleep.  The combination of husband’s snoring, raw nerves and raging upset stomach kept me tossing around until 4:00 am when it was time to get up anyway. The whole time I kept telling myself that this was stupid, I was stupid for thinking I could do something like this, I would never make it past the swim segment, and I would fail miserably in front of thousands of strangers. As much as I wanted to back out at this point, I started to feel like I would let down too many people if I bailed, so at 4:00 am I started getting ready.  My tri buddy knocked on the door to make sure I was up, and told me she was on her way out with her husband.  I would be lucky to get mine out of bed by the 5:00 deadline to roll out.  I was too nervous to eat (felt like throwing up) and spent the time pacing and loading up the car.  We drove out to the middle of nowhere (about 40 minutes into the Napa mountains to Lake Berryessa), me clutching the wheel the entire time trying to contain my guts and keep them from going one way or the other.  I was a shaking terrified mess.

We parked in our assigned spot, and I made it to the transition area. I stood there looking really stupid and perplexed until Tri Buddy came running up.  She’s not a hugger, she’s more Type A - and that is exactly what I needed at that time. She pointed to where I should set up. Each participant gets a numbered box (for the front tire of the bike) and a little space for your bag. She had me put my gloves & sunglasses in my helmet, and hook it over my handlebars.  Next she had me get my running shoes out and put them under my bike, with the socks inside.  A towel went on top of that, and then my fuel.  Having her march me through each step was a life saver.  My stomach started to calm down.


Then came time to suit up.  I tugged the wetsuit halfway into place when a photographer comes up.  I flat out told her “If you take my picture I will kill you.” She promised to just take one from the waist up... Getting to the water was not much fun - you have to walk

on bare feet in the cold across gravel that trucks are usually driving boats across. I ran into Vanessa’s husband there, and my old coach Neil (there for the Olympic distance). That helped my nerves a bit. Then it was time for the men to get in the water - under 40’s first, then the rest.  Then it was our turn - all the women.  It was cold, but not more than I anticipated.  I felt okay and my numb hands warmed up after a few minutes.  What I didn’t anticipate was how much the lake’s wake/waves would push me around.  I couldn’t see under water at all, and coming up for air was tricky because the waves would break near my face and I’d end up with a mouth/nose full of water.  I eventually settled for an elegant combination of dog paddle and back stroke. It was slow, but steady and I only took 32 minutes to complete the swim portion (longer than just about everyone else but hey).

I was slow in this transition (which does count against you, but I wasn’t caring much at this point). I carefully dried my feet before the socks and shoes (because the smallest piece of gravel can feel like a boulder in your shoe when you run).  Hopped on the bike and set out for the 12 mile ride.  This part was really great. I was so far behind most everyone that I didn’t have to worry about drafting. I sang little songs to myself as I went up and down (but mostly up) the side of the mountain.  I kept my spirits up by remembering that if there was this much “up” on this side, the second half would be easy peasy.

After the ride segment I was faster in getting ready to go run, although I got turned around and didn’t head out the right gate, so I had to go back and go through the “Run Start” gate for the time chip to activate. Oh well. The run was an out and back in the opposite direction, mostly up for the “out” and then blissfully down for the back to the finish.  I passed a ton of people on this segment, as by this time it was down to the slower group of age-groupers.  The plus side was that I got to watch the leading Olympic triathletes head out on their 10k run segment.  Wow, talk about athletes!



The run ended up a tiny hill into a grassy area where they called out my name. No one I knew was around, but that was okay.  A volunteer took off my timing chip and gave me a medal, so now I have that going for me. I found my husband and we packed up all the gear and headed back to Calistoga for a well earned beer & Reuben sandwich. Victory was mine.

Let this blog be a cautionary tale - if your friends try dragging you into something that sounds crazy and is way outside of your comfort zone, go along with it. You might just find that you can complete something you never thought possible.

Freak Out!

The emotional roller coaster of the past week has been like the worst bout of PMS but without the bloat. One minute I’m completely stoked and confident, the next I’m in a pool of tears ready to give up. I think the degree of “unknown” is getting to me.  One of my tri tribe was kind enough to loan me a bike that weighs about one fifth what the Warthog weighs, but I’m terrified to go ride it, for fear of breaking it or whatever, so there it sits in my garage.

I can see light at the end of the tunnel, but is that light a door opening on a new way of life that involves riding and running and swimming? Or is it that cliched oncoming train?  Maybe I’d feel differently if I had more time from the start of tri training to the actual triathlon date (Pro tip: 9 weeks might not be enough).

And oh god the money.  From what I’ve spent so far, I could have gone to Hawaii on a painting excursion. Did I make the right choice when I signed up for this? What was I thinking? But then, just as soon as those thoughts hit, I’ll run into another triathlete and get a dose of encouragement. Or I'll see someone go by on their bike and think "I wish I was riding." Or someone in the office will say “oh my gosh, we’re so impressed!” and I’m back on the roller coaster of wanting to do this again.

My boss (and her boss) recommended I take Friday before the race off.  I think they are trying to tell me something.

So this is it, kiddies. The next time all y'all see me, I'll be a USAT Certified triathlete. Not even Lance Armstrong can say that (right now anyway).

This is My Jam

When I first started running back in 2005, one of my biggest motivators, and most crucial pieces of equipment was my iPod.  I’m old enough to remember Sony Walkman, and Discman, and so when the iPod launched it was pretty awesome. On a long run you could listen to two or three albums by someone.  My favorite running partner is the band Radiohead. Named after a Talking Heads song, these avant garde rockers provide the perfect soundtrack to running.  There is something incredibly consistent about the beats, even when the tempo changes, that helps propel my feet along.

I also love to run to the Supersuckers, Pearl Jam, Fiona Apple, Neko Case, and LCD Soundsystem. I’ve been known to stop and do a little dance out on the trail when no one is watching. My Running playlist is pretty sweet, and like most runners I have my “power songs” (“Mountain Song” by Jane’s Addiction is my favorite) which help me find additional willpower or speed.

Imagine my heartache when I found out that you don’t take music with you on triathlons. Something about all that water, and safety issues with headphones and bicycles... So I’ve been attempting to run and ride without music.  Even when I bring my iPhone (so that I can track my distances on Strava) I don’t bring headphones. It’s a challenge, but I’m getting used to it, and I find I actually like the sound of my own thoughts.