So my excuse for not posting in forever this time is a good one. I have been busy. It’s that simple. There were things I had to do that took priority over blogging about what I am sure would have been something fantastically interesting and informative had I had the time. So I am just going to give you a run-down of a couple of the things that have been going on around here during my hiatus.
First, my mother-in-law and nephew from Costa Rica flew in so that we could hit every Wal-Mart and Ross within a 20 mile radius of my house. There was something else they flew 1700 miles for…now what was it??...oh yeah DISNEY WORLD!!! We took all the kids to see Mickey Mouse! It didn’t take long though to discover that Mickey Mouse is actually the character that you will see least of at Disney World unless you’re counting 100% cotton appearances. It was a great trip though and my little princess can say she lost her first tooth at Disney World. Well, technically it was in the car on the way home but the head butt from little man that sealed the deal happened on the premises.
After our little getaway to Disney and after MIL left with 4 suitcases of Sam Walton’s merchandise I had to get serious about preparing for the triathlon. And when I say get serious I mean frantically search the internet for some product that might grant me superhuman strength for one morning so that I might not pass out since I didn’t train nearly as much as I probably should have. I didn’t want to come in first place but I did want to finish and at that point superhuman strength seemed like my only hope. However, since my search for said strength left me empty handed I had to rely on my “past my prime, have birthed 3 children” strength and it actually served me pretty well. So well that I would like to go into thorough detail of the events of that morning and if you don’t care then this is where we say goodbye and see you at the next post which may or may not be anytime soon.
So, here we go. The race was set to begin at 8am and I was supposed to get there early to get my number and get set up but when we got there there was a big line of cars trying to get in the park so I got nervous that we may be late or too late to get my bearings before the whistle blew. So once we did get in I felt kind of hurried and just lost in general because I had never participated in any kind of race before since the 3 legged kind in elementary school. There was a huge space dedicated to the transition area where the bikes were to be set up but they were announcing that they wanted us to get our race numbers first and so I left hubby with all the gear and hurried over to get my number. I tell them my name and the guy gives me an envelope with my name on it and my number inside. Then I have to go get my ankle timer which documents your time for each leg of the race. So I whip out my number from the envelope to show the ankle guy and the paper reads 899 so he gives me anklet 899. I then go to the sharpie lady and let her write 899 on my arm and calf before I could finally go find a place for my bike among the sea of racks. I find what seems to be a great location because it’s right beside the steps that go down to the water for the swimming portion. I was kind of surprised that it wasn’t full already and went ahead and celebrated my luck at such a good spot. Next I start to unload and go to put my number on my bike and realize that my number is printed on the paper wrong and I will have to hang it upside down compared to the others around me. However, the girl next to me points out that it’s not printed upside down rather I am putting it on upside down which makes my number not 899 but 668! GREAT, now I have the wrong number sharpied on my arm and calf and have to go back to the sharpie lady. I figured that she would have something to wipe it off since this can not be the only screw up, but no, she just marks through it and writes the new number beside the old one making me look amateur from a mile away. In my hurry to correct the wrong doing I forget that the wrong number is also assigned to my ankle monitor and don’t realize it until I am standing in the sand with 800 other people about to hurl myself in the water. I have a mini-freak out session wondering if somebody else has my number and how will they ever figure out my time but I just figured that maybe it was a sign that my time should not be made available for public viewing and try to focus on the swim.
I was told that we would be asked our time for swimming 400 meters and they would put us in groups accordingly. I was prepared to proudly state 10 minutes and be in one of the first groups to go. In fact I was kind of banking on this because swimming was going to be my strength in this race. However, yes another however, they never asked and put everyone in order by gender and age. Men first and then women, which meant that I was in the next to the last group right before your grandma. This was discouraging because I knew I was going to struggle on the bike but thought this would keep me from being in the back of the pack, at least for a while anyway. Anyway, the water wasn’t cold, which I had feared, but my heart was racing before I ever got in the water. I knew the swim wouldn’t be as easy as practicing in a pool with clear water and lap lanes but it really turned out to be more difficult than I had thought with peoples’ feet in my face and having to look up to see where I was going. My time ended up to be 2 minutes longer than my best pool time but still not too bad. The bad came after I got out of the water and have to run uphill, barefoot back to the bike area. I was just about to “dart” up the stairs (remember the ones that I mentioned were right beside my bike rack) when an official says “you have to go straight”…uh what?? Come again?...but I had heard correctly and I pathetically point and say “but my bike is up there” hoping that she could make an exception because I am obviously a newbie, can’t she see my 2 sets of numbers on my arm?? So I follow the other racers to the next entrance to the bike area only to see another huge incline which ends in the complete opposite end from where my bike is awaiting me. By then practically the only bikes left are mine and grannie’s so that eliminated any fear of being able to locate my bike.
I shove off on the bike and do pretty well considering I have not ridden a bike very much but I was still scared that something might go wrong with the bike and I wouldn’t be able to fix it because I know nothing about a bike accept for how to pedal and steer. I had heard that there was one pretty steep hill on the course so when I get to a hill and see some people walking alongside their bikes I get nervous but am able to make it up without stopping. After that I was sitting a little higher in the saddle proud that I was able to keep going and am obviously superior to some of the racers as I did not have to dismount! Just about the time I finish patting myself on the back I see what surely must be a wrong turn on the course because I am staring at what looks like Mnt. Everest and realize this is “the hill”. I try to get my momentum up so I can get as far as possible before coming to what I am sure will be a grinding halt halfway up. That momentum didn’t last long at all and I find myself frantically trying to change gears so that I can keep pedaling but apparently there are no gears lower than 1 and simultaneously I come to a stop and I hear a “crunch” which I knew couldn’t be good but I didn’t see any little parts rolling away down the hill so I just hop off and join the other “inferior” bikers pushing their bikes up the hill. When I get to the top and go to get back on I realize the chain is dangling somewhat near the pavement instead of clinging to the bike. I have another mini freak-out session which was obviously heard by a man who was stopped fixing his own bike and he came to my rescue and put the chain back on. I finished the biking portion without further incident but it made me seriously question my sanity and I only finished 10 minutes longer than my best practice time which I felt was not bad considering the hill/chain incident.
By time I get off the bike I am spent and have a stitch in my side that feels like a dagger. I keep pushing though and do not let the fact that most of the men and some of the women are done with the race before I even start the run deter me. Now, when I say run I use that term loosely as I did a good bit of power walking too due to the stitch in my side and that I was out of water and there was only 1 water station on the running course and by time I reached it the water was a cool 90 degrees. I kept trucking though and the best part of the whole race came when I was able to hear the music as I got close to the finish line and then to see the people lined up cheering me on. This gave me that last bit of strength I needed to actually run across the finish line and scan the spectators to find the photographer so I could flash my best I just completed a triathlon face.
That about sums it up besides the fact that I spent the rest of the day collapsed on the bed. I am glad I did it, it was a great experience but I do not wish to do it again. It may be like childbirth though, the memory of the pain is still fresh now but in a year or so I will have forgotten about that part and may wish to do it again. But if I did I would definitely not do it with a mountain bike even if Mnt. Everest does make an appearance
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