It was pretty grueling… but not as hard as I expected it to be either. My mom’s got some pictures on her blog. Instead, I present… lessons learned and a little bit of play-by-play, so when you do this with me next year, you know what to expect.
FYI: They have relay teams and buddy waves, and cousins/sisters/aunts/friends are awesome tri-pals, I hear.
So--- here we go:
Swim: Wet suits are AWESOME. My anxiety level was pretty high going in because I’m such a baby in the cold, and that water was an icy (to me) 70 degrees or so. The organizers had set up a warm-up area where you can wade in the water and get used to it… but really, it was no help. I gave up on that and I joined my wave (other 20-25 yr olds… who, judging by the rankings, were FAR more fit than me!). After the wave in front of us started, we worked our way down the boat launch. I found myself in the middle of the pack—not in the plan! They announced 1 minute to start, so I bit the bullet, crouched in the water and stayed there to get used to the cold. The organizers announced 30 seconds… (teeth chattering)… 20… (holy crap! My goosebumps could shred paper!)…10… (Ok, get serious now. Think of what you’re about to do! You’re already here, you can’t back out now! What’s my mantra? Oh yeah! I. AM. A. STRONG. WOMAN. Just keep repeating that. GRRRR! I’m gonna do this!) aaaaaaaaaaaaaand… GO! I never thought about the cold again. Once I was swimming, I wasn’t cold. Other benefits of wet suits in triathlons: buoyancy and padding.
- Buoyancy—yes, those suckers do help you float. Tired? Get to the edge of the course, and hang out. You could use a swim angel’s surf board or kayak, or grab one of those noodles out there, but really, the wet suit will be sufficient.
- Padding—remember how I was in the middle of the pack? Yeah, not so good. They don’t send all 5000 women out at once, but there’s still a 100-300 women in each group. I wanted to get off to the side so I could rest when I wanted to (Gotta keep the asthma under control, y’know), but that didn’t go according to plan. But not having the comfort of an easy route to a little seclusion to catch my breath wasn’t the worst of it. The first time you kick another athlete in the stomach, you feel AWFUL, and you’ll apologize profusely. Then you get kicked in the stomach too, and you don’t feel so bad about those elbow jabs and kicks. Towards the end, (being so dang slow) I started getting passed by women in the wave behind me. At that point, it’s more like swimming through bodies than swimming through water. Those women who lead the waves are fierce and experienced, and they don’t seem to feel bad when they kick you. That ¾ inch of synthetic whatever really comes in handy when those feet come flying at you. Fewer bruises = happy tri-athletes.
Transitions: I knew I wouldn’t be like the first tri-athlete who went from swim to bike in 30 seconds flat… but sheesh... almost 10 minutes! Next time, I’m TOTALLY rubbing Pam all over to get out of that wet suit quicker. Also, I will try not to freak out if I don’t get EVERY last piece of dirt, sand, and grass off my feet. (This tends to accumulate when you run from the lake to your bike in the transition area.)
Bike: Not too much to say here beyond the fact that it would have been well worth it to fix up my bike beforehand, and learn some bike maintenance. Note to self: 15 out of 21 gears not working on race day probably means your bike is not in race-appropriate condition. We were told there would be volunteers to help if bikes break down mid-race. In theory, this is great considering I know NOTHING about bike maintenance. (Again, who races with 6/21 working gears? Ummm… yeah, this girl.) In actuality though, they had volunteers for the first 2/last 2 miles… but no bike pros for those 8 miles in between.
Run: Sure, hydration is nice… and they do have Port-a-Potties on the race route… but do I really want to stop and add to my time? Meh. Not really. I’ve taken longer than I should as it is. (Stupid bike!) I didn’t know this before, but you can survive running 3.1 miles on a full bladder. Oh, and other women walked the 3 miles—ain’t nothin’ wrong with that--- but I actually LIKE running (swimming and biking… eh, not so much), so I was going to take this doctor/PT- approved chance to jog and run as much as I could. There’s nothing like finishing a triathlon at a full on sprint. And hearing the announcer saying “Here comes Brianna Johnston—look at her go full steam!”
On esprit de corps, motivation, keeping morale up, whatever you call it: I was told before that there would be so many people cheering all the women on. I was told other women would say “You’re doing great!” even as they sped past you. I had been told that there would be women of all ages, shapes, sizes, fitness levels. It was true. And it was AWESOME. Homeowners along the running route were shouting at us saying “You’re all so beautiful!” On my bike, after hollering and yelling with the other women as we went through a tunnel, another woman whooshed right past me but still said “keep it up, you’re doing great!” Our ages were written on the back of our left calf, and I saw a woman of 66 start (and I found out later she wasn’t the oldest woman—there was a woman in the 75-80 age group!). I also had a girl of 14 in front of me most of the bike ride. There was one point on that bike ride, where there was no one else around me and I went past a little family clearly there to cheer on someone else. But when I went by they CHEERED their hearts out for little ol’ me… and they didn’t even know me!
Afterward: OOOOOh, was I tired. And HUNGRY. I ate goo and Luna chews and other things that are supposed to keep your energy up while you race. I was still hungry though. Nom, nom, nom!
So that’s it--- everything there is to say about the Danskin. It got me to be more serious about being fit (esp. important with so much heart disease in the family on both sides). It benefitted a good cause. It pushed me beyond the limits I thought I had. I bonded with co-workers I wouldn’t have bonded with otherwise. AND IT WAS FUN!
