I am once again a triathlete.
(insert heavy sigh and big smile here)
I’ll start from the beginning, since I’m never short on words and wouldn’t want to shaft the experience in any way. (Note to readers: this is obnoxiously long. Don’t even start it if you get bored easily…and to my other blog readers, this is a repost)
I think my triathlon story starts Saturday morning, as I’m just about ready to leave the house. Car is packed, cat is taken care of, and I’m doubled over the toilet feeling like I’m going to ralph all over the place. Was it the Peridium or the Cipro? Probably. Had I eaten or drank enough to take my meds? Probably not. Ugh. I intended to leave at 7am, but my nausea sidelined me until 7:20am. On the plus side, I learned a side effect from the pills and decided what not to do on race morning.
The drive up to Santa Barbara was almost pleasurable. Didn’t hit any traffic at all, and it really was a beautiful ride once I got out of LA. When I got to Santa Barbara, I parked my car at the Pier and then rode my bike to the race (about a mile— on the run route!) where I met my roommates and stored my gear. Our Coach was doing the long course that day, so we were trying to figure out when we’d see her again. She rocked her 1-mile swim and 34-mile bike, and had just gone off on her run when I arrived. I picked up my race packet, cheered on some elite athletes as they finished eons ahead of everybody else, and then met up with the other Divas and their signs. Coach KILLED the finish. She sprinted her little booty off coming down the “chute” and we screamed and clapped as loud as we could. I was just so proud of her….3 minutes under her goal time, and looking phenomenal in the process. She is such an inspiration to all of us, so it was fantastic to see her race and show her a little love in the process. 
After our coach photo ops, we all went our separate ways. I walked to the Santa Barbara Zoo and had a lovely afternoon seeing the animals, then hit up the local farmer’s market for some race day fruit and water. We met back at the hotel pool and chatted for a few hours about racing in general and what we should do in different situations on course (I’m awfully concerned about getting a flat—- basically told Coach I was running it in because it’d be way faster than waiting for me to try to change the fricking tire) Then we all went to dinner at Palazzio, this cute Italian place in the main street area of town. Mmmmm…..garlicky, buttery warm buns and angel hair pasta with tomatoes, basil, and brie!!! I went to town and forgot about the diet. Coach made me do it. 
Actually, I wasn’t that bad. My sauce was just light olive oil, I only ate 2 little buns, and we shared a main dish— could’ve been worse.
***I must digress here and make a comment about a few of my heavier Divas. I had a chance to see what they eat behind closed doors this weekend, and now I know why they aren’t shedding pounds in the program. My awesome, sweet roommate downed almost a pound of toffee-coated peanuts, several Oreos, a bag of potato chips…..and a few other ladies munched down an entire bag of taco chips and Chips Ahoy cookies at the pool. At dinner, they ordered appetizers and multiple main courses, and had a lot of everything. I wanted to stop them and tell them about Weight Watchers. About how they were sculpting nicely and turning into gorgeous ladies, but they could really take it to the next level if they’d just moderate a little bit. Ah!!! But it’s not my place, and it’s a personal decision we all must make.
When I get offered these things and decline, they look at me weird, like I’m trying to be holier than thou. When I try to explain that I was 30+ lbs heavier several years ago, they still roll their eyes. Okay, so I know I wasn’t morbidly obese before, but my BMI was well above 25, I was wearing sizes 12 (tightly, I might add— should’ve been 14’s), and I was unhealthy in my eating habits. I’m over being told that I don’t need to watch my weight. I do! I swear!
****Back to the triathlon.
So, we woke up at the ungodly hour of 5am and walked over to the transition area at 5:30am. We stood in line to get in, but we were pretty close to the front and that assured us all “end caps.” (You want your bike at the end of the row so you don’t have to worry about traffic getting to your stuff) I swear Ducky from Pretty In Pink was in the co-ed race and was in line in front of me, but it was early so I make no guarantees. After setting up transition, I realized I’d forgotten my swim cap at the hotel so had to run back across the street. And then I had to pee. Again, and again, and again. Clearly, the bladder infection has not disappeared yet.
After group photos, more trips to the bathroom, a quick dip in the water (we won’t go into details about what went on there….but come on, we know everyone does it), and some last minute prepping, it was time to stand by our swim caps at the start and get ready to rumble. I was in the first wave, with all the teeny boppers and under 30’s. We were a pretty fit group, to be honest. I was probably one of the biggest ones there, which was not the way the rest of the heats were. I was pretty quiet, and the only thing going through my head was that I had to flippin’ pee again. Yes, the water was frigid. Yes, I had a whole race ahead of me. But pee was on my mind.
When it was time to go, the mass group of us sprinted to the surf. So much for going out first. I was three-deep in line going out and the fast girls were well on their way to the first buoy when I decided to stop running and just dive in. There was some wrangling for position on the way out, and I got groped by an awful lot of women. You’re all headed in the same direction, so it’s inevitable. I tried to just keep everything steady….not to get too fast or else I’d peter out in the water. You see, I only have one speed for swimming. In the pool, when I go “all out,” I only shave a few seconds off of a 100-meter time. So the excess energy just isn’t worth it for a race. At any rate, it felt like an eternity to the first buoy….and the 2nd buoy took a while to get to, too. I then felt like I was in a groove and trusted that I was swimming in the right direction next to a girl that swam at my pace. I kept with her the whole time, headed to shore, and then started dreading what was coming next!! I caught a HUGE wave to shore, sending me hurtling past everyone who’d worked so hard to swim past me on the way in. Hehehe…..I reached down, felt sand, and then jumped up and did my funky chicken run out of the water like Coach told us to.
Coach was there, bless her. At that point, I was feeling like, “I know I have a goal, but let’s reassess and just finish the race and forget about time.” But Coach was yelling, “Go Mtngirlincali! You can do it! RUN to the mat!” Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. The swim time includes a lovely run up the beach to the transition area. So rather than have a slow swim time because I walked like a granny, I ran and unzipped my wetsuit until I hit the mat. Walked through transition, got out of my suit, threw on my glasses and helmet, attempted to put on my shoes and socks, and then grabbed my bike and went. I was soaking wet, there was sand and water in my shoes, and the salt from the ocean was gagging me, but off I ran with my trusty orange bike. (It needs a name, btw…..I was thinking Flaming Orange Goose because it’s all funky orange with black on the fork, but I could be persuaded to call it something else)
I had some trouble putting my foot in the left cage when we mounted, but since it was only a 6-mile course, I decided not to lose any more precious time by attempting to put my foot somewhere it didn’t want to go. So off I went. Coach told me that to accomplish my goal of doing the bike in 20 minutes, I’d need to push 20+ mph on the straights. Seeing as how I’d never done that before, I thought I was done for. BUT on a whim, I geared up a little more than I’d normally be comfortable with and what do you know? 21 mph. Woohoo!! I was down to 8mph on two of the hills, but they were outshadowed by the downhills and straightaways. Not even the train, which stopped me in my tracks and took about :30 seconds to clear out, could slow me down! (That’s a funny story— these crazy women were swerving through the railroad crossing arms immediately after the train went by even though they were still down— there was a cop watching, too!! I behaved)
Overall, the bike felt phenomenal. I was cheering on other Divas as they were starting their course, and I felt great. What a rush! But then the realization occurred to me— the run was next.
I am not a runner. I do not pretend to be a runner. I even have trouble faking it ’til I make it. ( I suppose that’s the same as not pretending, but whatever) T2 was fast. I dropped the bike, took off the helmet, grabbed my race belt and hat, and took off. I put it all on as I ran and crossed the mat, then set my sights on the run. By then, I had checked my watch and realized I was miraculously still on target to hit my goal time. No way! But I was breathing pretty heavily and knew my heart rate was probably up at the top of the range, so if I was going to hit the time, I’d need to bring it back down and settle a little bit. Usually I wait 5 minutes until my first 1-minute of walk, but today I had to walk after 2 minutes. I collected myself, breathed calmly, and tried to visualize feeling awesome and having no troubles at all. I wish I could say it worked perfectly, but at least it got me through the rough spot. I settled around 10-minutes, which seems typical for me. If I can work through the pain of the first 10-minutes, I can usually go indefinitely after that. I walked the water station and drank, then took off for home.
The one bummer about Santa Barbara is that you can see the finish line from the halfway point. It might be a motivator for some people, but to me, it was SO hard to get geared up for it because I’d been staring at it for so long. I skipped my last scheduled walk at 17 minutes (I realized I could possibly beat my goal time, so I decided to just go through the pain) and kept pushing. My bladder ached, of all things. Go figure! But I have antibiotics for that, so I convinced myself to keep going….that I should not only look forward to the finish line, but also the toilets! So away I went. At the end of the finish chute (we’ll call it that….it’s basically the part of the trail that starts at the transition areas and goes all the way to the finish line, and it’s lined with cheering family members and friends), Coach was there with her Hawaiin leis. She handed me one and said, “Finish Diva-style…..sprint it in!” OMG, I had nothing left. But I picked it up as well as I could, gasping for air the entire time because I’m no better than a 10-minute mile and today I had to beat my pace.
And there it was. The finish. I kept on strong til the very end, and when the announcer said my name, I looked up and there was my time— I beat my personal goal by :10 seconds! (I’d tell you my time, but I have to try to be somewhat anonymous here) Wohoo!!!! It didn’t feel the same as my race in Colorado several years earlier, but it was still special. And I know it was just a super sprint, but I raced as hard as I possibly could, trusted in my training, and was really proud of myself. Today, I felt like I earned that Tridiva jersey.
Results were up just as I was leaving, and I had placed in the top 1/4 of my age group! There were over 35 of us, so I was really happy with that. Elated, actually. I was telling the hubby last night that I was wondering why I was doing triathlon, as it was a sport I’d never be able to be competitive in. Well, you know what? There may be hope after all!! I may not be an endurance athlete, but maybe I’ll be a decent sprinter in the future?! EDITED: Results are posted. I broke the top 50 out of 335 people. Woohoo!!!!
So, that’s the race. And the best part? Standing on the sidelines and cheering on my teammates as they made their way to the finish line. Some of them were crying it was so emotional…..I mean, people have no idea what they can get their bodies and minds to do. And it is true that really everybody can complete a triathlon….it doesn’t matter if you are short, fat, heavy, slow, or disabled….there is a way if you have the will. Moreso than a race against others, it’s really a sport where you race against yourself. And isn’t that the very best kind?
Kudos to the staff and volunteers at the Santa Barbara triathlon—- an awesome time, and they did a great job!
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