It’s over, it’s done, and it was SO much fun. On August 16th, I completed my first Sprint Triathlon. And as one non-athlete to another, let me just tell you, I can see how people get addicted.
It all started in January of 2008. I got a call from my two friends in Seattle. One (Cheri) had recently become an avid biker. The other (her daughter-in-law and my close friend from college, Nora) had long been a runner. They had heard about a really cool women’s-only triathlon that takes place each August in Seattle. And the best part was, you could sign up as a relay team! They realized that together they already had two legs of the relay… they just needed a swimmer. And low and behold, they knew someone who needed to get back into shape after having a baby. So they called naive little old me.
Luckily, I didn’t know enough at the time to know what I was getting into, so I agreed. You may remember some of that story.
Of course, the thrill of accomplishing something so challenging in such a wonderfully supportive environment, led us all to believe that we could master the whole thing this year. Instead of signing up as a relay team, we all signed up as individuals.
Cheri sent me a training book (12 Weeks to Your First Triathlon), and I made up my little training schedule. Of course, I didn’t have anyone down here that was doing it too, so it was hard to keep up the motivation to train properly. I had some great friends that came to work out with me and encouraged me, but it’s not quite the same as having someone with the same deadline. Then, to add to the challenge, my summer promptly filled up to overflowing, and making time to train the way I wanted became incredibly challenging. So, though I continued to work out, I wasn’t getting in the kinds of workouts I desired.
So the day of the race drew near, and I started to freak. Our time slot (wave) was near the end, so I had visions of making it to the finish line after everyone had packed up and gone home. I knew I could finish, but I also knew I would be slow. But, I had paid the money, and had two friends keeping me accountable, so there was no backing out.
So, we showed up, donned our purple swim caps, and jumped in the chilly Lake Washington water at about 8:15am.
The water was slightly warmer than last year (possibly due to starting the race an hour and a half later in the day), and having friends with me made it so much easier than last year. Oddly enough, I got kicked a lot more this time. I think that might be because the women in our wave were the “buddies” or people just doing it with their friends for fun. Not as well trained, or prepared, perhaps. Lots of people were backfloating, which caused them to go all over the place and swim in front of me going the wrong direction. At one point one woman floated over my legs going the wrong direction and I inadvertently used my feet to push off her rib cage. Ooops!
I am excited to say that all the anxiety and trials I experienced in the water last year sufficiently prepared me for this go-’round. For the entire 1/2 mile swim, I did not have to stop, I did not panic, I was able to crawl for most of it with a few breaststrokes to catch my breath, and best of all – even though the swim was 150 meters LONGER than last year – I still improved my time by FIVE MINUTES! And with energy to spare…
Whereas last year, I got to pass our timing chip off to the biker at this point, this year I actually had to hop on a bike, all soaking wet. My biggest mistake here was not washing my feet off well enough. Lots of sand and goobers between my toes. I threw on my socks and shoes, team shirt and helmet. Then I waited for Cheri to finish her swim (we were doing this together this time… not necessarily going for the fastest time) and helped her with her gear, and we headed off on the 15K bike ride across Lake Washington on I-90.
The day was beautiful, crystal clear, and not too hot. The ride is pretty straight forward… just out and back… but there is this one tiny little access road that it’s on a steep hill to get the riders to the deck of the I-90 bridge. It’s divided off for people to walk their bikes if they can’t make it. Because it’s narrow and often crowded, it can lead to a bottleneck and crashes. We had taken a look at it the day before and I decided I was just going to get off and walk it, so as not to get half-way up, need to stop, and cause a collision. Well, by the time I got there, I had so much adrenaline and energy built up, that I just rode to the top of the darn thing without ever stopping! Part of it was made easier because there weren’t a lot of people around, but I did it nonetheless!
They close down the express lanes to cars for the race, so we had the middle of the bridge deck all to ourselves. It was peaceful and beautiful. The deck is mostly flat until the end, when there is a long climb up to Mercer Island. Once on Mercer Island, you turn around and head back. The whole thing was fairly enjoyable until about the last two miles when a few of my toes and one of my hands went numb (I had forgotten to bring my bike gloves).
I made it back to the transition area where I had a little extra time to rinse my feet off some more, and put on new socks. Unfortunately, I was using my same tennis shoes for both the bike and the run because I don’t have bike shoes. So, even though I had new socks on, my shoes were still wet, and I had barely started on the run when I felt the skin rubbing raw on my heels from the dampness. I stopped to adjust a few times, but ended up just having to grin and bear it.
I was still surprised at the amount of energy I had. Actually, much more than I normally have when I run/walk. I think this was due to how my legs were already so warmed up. We ended up walking most of the 5K run due to Cheri’s asthma troubles, but we did manage to run a small section in each mile, plus we did a really great dance as we past the African Drumming Group that (apparently) plays every year. And you know what? By the time we rolled across the finish line… people were still there! There were still lots of people to cheer for us!
Of course, there is nothing quite like the feel of accomplishment after completing such a feat. And a lot of people think we’re really cool now. But the thing is, I feel like sort of a scam artist by taking their compliments. I’ve heard a lot of, “Wow. I could never do that.” But the thing is…. you can. Trust me, if I can, you can. I am not an athlete. I didn’t train nearly enough. I have arthritis in my knees. And did I mention, I LOATHE running? The only thing I did that was different was to try. I gave it a go. And it was darn fun. And what’s even cooler is that I’m not even the biggest underdog that was out there. There were women in their seventies and eighties. There were women who were probably close to 300 lbs. There were 14 year olds. Every shape, size, age and ability you can imagine were out there, just trying and having fun. And most of them did it. And every single person out there was incredibly supportive and encouraging of everyone else.
At one point, the day before, we got in line behind one of the women who was in the “elite” group (we knew because of her race number). We started talking to her, and she told us how last summer she had completed an Iron Man Triathlon. She had started by doing this particular sprint tri years before, as a complete novice, and said she would always come back and do the Danskin because it was where she got her start, because everyone was so friendly and supportive, and because it changed womens lives. She ended up finishing second overall.
Of course, we definitely couldn’t have done it without our support team. Talk about encouraging… they came and cheered and waited (and waited and waited) for us. Even though they only got to see us for a minute or two and each of the transitions, they hung out and had fun. And little Miss Mylie cheered for most anyone who past her for most of the 2 and 1/2 hours she waited.
I learned that, like most of life, the hardest part is the unknown. You don’t know what it’s like, so it seems scary. I was terrified, to be honest. But it was fun! And I will be going back. Next year I plan on improving my time by about 40 minutes. Seriously. The whole time I was thinking of those now corny sayings, like, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” and “If you think you can’t, you won’t,” and “Altitude is determined by attitude.” I can’t think of a single person that I know who wouldn’t be able to do this, and anyone who tells me she can’t is lying to herself.
Like my favorite saying from this race goes:
“The miracle is not so much that I finished the race… The miracle is that I started at all.”
