Tri for Hope

Well, I suppose it's about time to kick the ol' blog back into business. I guess for a while I just wanted to forget about a place where you talk about what's going on in your life -- because what I really really wanted had just not happened. But time heals all wounds, and now life feels pretty darn good again. So maybe I'll have some interesting things to say. But probably not....:)

So, a few months ago my friend Missi decided to sign up for a triathlon. We did one a couple of years ago, and because we a) really like each other b) are competitive as, well, I don't know what -- we've always talked about doing another one together. But, since I thought I'd be having a newborn, I opted to sit this one out. Then, when Miss Baby did not actually come, I thought I'd better save my pennies for when - hopefully - the next little one comes down the pike. Unable to turn down a good workout, though, I've been biking with the girls who signed up for this triathlon for the last couple of months. Last week, Missi succeeded in talking me into signing up to run this one with them. Soooooo..that left me with 11 or so days to get my run and my swim in order. Bwah!! So it was with a little trepidation and a whole lot of bravado that I showed up for the race yesterday, with my training buds - Me, Missi, Amy, and Katja. (You can tell I must be feeling pretty good about myself, cause I'm posting a picture of my thighs on the internet. Ah!!!).


This tri was both tiny and only for women. I love these type of events, because they take a lot of pressure and scariness out of the idea of doing a triathlon, and consequently you get ALL SORTS of people signing up and competing. I think it's really inspiring to see all these womanly bodies in all different sorts of sizes and shapes, and all doing something really awesome. I wish our society somehow would celebrate this -- instead of the constant parade of stick-insect "role models" that parade across the magazines in the grocery check out aisle.


For some reason -- I guess so they can identify us, although for 2/3rds of the thing we have numbers on us as well -- they write our ages on us in sharpie. It sort of feels like a badge of honor and I don't know anyone who isn't just a wee bit pleased when the number is still showing the next day. :) It's really inspirational too, because as the race goes on, you can tell when you are passing people younger than you (YEAH!!!!) or being passed by people older than you (a good kick-in-the-rear when your will is flagging.)


Believe it or not, those smiles are AFTER we've finished the race. If that's not proof of the ol' "runner's high" I don't know what is. The race, by the way, was a sprint -- 1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 2 mile run. (And yeah, think about that for a minute. In other disciplines, sprint is like 50 yards, 100 meters......triathlon is just, well, nuts.) I was quite pleased with my aging old bones -- finished it in just over 1 hour 15 and was ninth in my age group, 32nd over all. It's not stellar, but I'm still happy! :) Of course, half of that happiness might be just having the blasted thing over!

Actually, it really was enjoyable until time came to run. We started on the beach, in age group waves, so we got to run into the water (trying to ignore the jiggling thighs) and then swim straight down the beach, trying to avoid being kicked. That's harder than one might imagine, because this being a lake, you really couldn't see people around you until about a nano second before their feet impacted your nose. Between the nerves of the start, the run, and the sudden activity, it was probably half way through the swim before I felt like my lungs might not burst. Then you hit the last bouy and turn into the beach, and it's a quick run up the beach and along some grass to the transition area, where you've left bike, helmet, shoes, and whatever additional clothing you plan on finishing the race with. So now you find yourself out of breath, dizzy from having just run up a hill, and now you've got to put your shoes and socks on -- without sitting down (or passing out) and then jump on your bike and head out onto the roads. We had a really pretty ride around the reservoir which somehow appeared to supply a brisk headwind the entire way around. This part was pretty fun because, thanks to my fleet road bike (thanks fam!!) I got to spend the whole time reeling in slower bikers and flying past them. At the end of the ride we got our first and only major hill -- and right at the bottom of it I got stuck behind a huge truck pulling one of those wood-chipper things, and it was afraid to go around the slow pokes headed up the hill. Between the competition and the oxygen deprivation, I lost my mind and decided to pass the truck. On a hill. On the yellow line. With traffic coming the other way. Thank goodness I'd said my prayers that morning and the Lord didn't feel like teaching me a lesson about consequences, because I came through just fine. The hill pretty much killed the last of my quads, but luckily I was close to the end and got to head downhill. Riding back into transition, it's time to RUN! Now......running after biking hard for 40 minutes, well, there's no other word for it -- it SUCKS. Hugely. Said competitive nature left in a hurry and I found I just really didn't care anymore. My legs agreed. In fact, my legs threatened mutiny continuously. But two miles and twenty minutes of walking and running and walking and running and I crossed the finish line, very very happy to be done.

And then I went back to run the last hundred yards with Missi. It was WAY more fun the second time! But Missi's only words to me pretty much sum up the end-of-tri experience: muttered sideways, under her breath, in a very pained voice, "Where IS IT????" (spoken of the blasted finish line.) :)

Friends who finish together, stay together! :)

Thanks for a great memory, Missi, and Amy and Katja!!