First Triathlon!

Wow! That is all that I can say. I am just now getting my head around the fact that I am now a triatlete.

In November I saw the Wildflower practice race on the schedule and it scared the Hell out of me. I could barely swim more than 10 meters at a time, and swimming 1.2 miles seemed like an insurmountable challenge to me. I am all about taking on a big challenge, and I am known for biting off more than I can chew and just swallowing it whole (figuratively and literally). However, I had some serious doubts that I would be able to pull this off by March.

Since March I have put in lots of morning and lunch time swims and gotten coaching from several sources. Basically, I worked hard. I got better and better and hit different milestones along the way. I do have to admit that life got in the way of swimming over the past month and I haven't done a lot of it. I am a bit ashamed of it, but I did a little shuffling and have found ways to give swimming the attention that it deserves.

Anyway, here is the run-down of the weekend: Kathryn and I worked stuff out and were going to ride down with Nate and Michelle, but it turned out that they didn't have a bike rack for our tri-bikes. I couldn't let my baby (Robin, not Kathryn) ride in the back of a truck unsupported, so we decided to drive separately. That worked out for the best because there is no way all of our stuff would have fit in 1 truck anyway.

We had planned to come down on Thursday after work, but then I decided to come Friday morning instead. Kathryn was really looking forward to going on Thursday night, so I decided to take one for the team and head down after a bike ride on Thursday. That bike ride took almost an hour extra because of all the problems I kept finding and fixing on my bike. I am glad I found them on the pre-ride and not in the race. It did put us on the road a lot later than planned though. We made it to camp a little after 11 even with an IHOP stop. I was exhausted, and we tiptoed into the RV to avoid waking anyone.

I slept terribly. I was freezing and there was a lot of noise and I only got a little sleep despite taking sleeping pills. I was uber-grumpy the next morning and needed a lot of alone time. I know that added stress to other people as well. I was supposed to pre-drive the course with Nate, but instead I took more sleeping pills and took a nap. That helped a lot. The rest of Sat was spent getting myself and other's equipment ready, hanging out a little, and eating. People are making fun of my dinner. I am eating dried fruit and nuts. I need to get "cleaned out" and I also want some dense calories in me from a natural source.

Sunday morning we are woken up to bagpipes on a boom-box. Dave is walking around the campsite using it to wake people up. HE took special interest in our camper circling several times while Kathryn giggled like a kindergartener that just said her first bad word. We all get up and I feel pretty good. I slept well and I start the process.

My nutrition plan from the night before works like a champ. Use your imagination. I drink a large amount of bloody mary mix to get in a lot of electrolytes, and eat an assortment of foods. We pack up and head to set up transition.

When we get out of the car I am shocked by how cold it is. My hands hurt with gloves on. I am seriously considering not starting because of the cold. I know my bike ride is going to be miserable since I am just wearing a tri-suit. I decide that I will wear gloves and that I will race.

I get everything set up pretty well and put on my wetsuit. I head down the rocky descent to the dock and get ready to swim. I just in the water with everyone else and it doesn't feel as cold as some of the water we have been in. After waiting an eternity we finally start. I pass a bunch of swimmers, but that doesn't last long. I need to be able to swim like I do in the first 100 for the entire race. Training! Anyway, I settle into a slow swim but I am pushing myself a little and I feel good. We get to the turn-around sooner than I expected. I feel good, though it is obvious I haven't been swimming enough. I get passed by the French weirdo from the South Bay team. He is about 60 with the biggest goggles I have ever seen. He looks like Jacques Cousteau.

I get back to the dock and I am not the last one out, which makes me a little happy. I follow my plan and run up the hill and across the parking lot while stripping the wetsuit. My time in transition is WICKED fast - less than a minute. I leave on the tri-suit and put on my helmet, sunglasses, shoes, and gloves. I jump on the bike and haul ass. I welcome the hills to warm me up some and I am catching and passing some of the fastest swimmers already. I FLY down the downhill and then it hits.

I have debated how to tell this story for a while. I decided to just be open about it. I was frostbitten about 15 years ago while running in Michigan in sub-zero weather. I won't dance around it - my penis was severely frostbitten. It was so bad when it happened that I passed out from the pain.

Fast forward - I am flying downhill in wet, thin clothing with temps in the 40's with a crazy cold wind-chill. I had planned on being cold in my hands, feet, and face and had accepted that. Moby, on the other hand, was not a consideration. On a 1-10 pain scale it was a 10. It felt like I had a blowtorch to my wedding tackle. I stopped pedaling, then pulled over, and eventually was balled up on the side of the road. The pain got worse and worse and I was not functional. I admit, I was balling. Not from the pain, but from the prospect of not finishing for the first time in my life. I decide to wait it out on the side of the road for as long as it took.

The Tri-Cal girl comes by in her truck to pick me up. I refuse telling her I don't want to quit. She tells me that if I go back to transition that it will be like a really long T1. I decide that is acceptable. I go back there and get in my own truck and put the heat on max. Dan gives me his coat and Dave orders me to "rub on it a little". After a long wait I get to the point where it doesn't hurt that bad and I am able to continue. Dan gives me a washcloth to use as a wind screen and I stuff it down my suit.

I take off with Dave and leave my timing equipment behind. I am out of contention at this point. I have a nice ride with Dave for the first 20 miles. We talk about all kinds of things and enjoy the area. We get to the first rest stop and he stops to talk to folks and do coach-like things. We hang out for 15 minutes or so and I learn that I am in danger of missing the first time cut-off, so I take off and race to the 30 mile checkpoint. I am fired up at this point and absolutely blazing fast.

I keep going past the checkpoint and I am feeling great and riding hard. I decide that I want to catch Kathryn who has a huge lead and so I keep pushing. I am not killing myself, but I am going fast and loving it. I only make one stop for water and even pee on the bike to save time.

I find out that Kathryn was told that I might have quit due to hypothermia. I HAVE to catch her at this point so she doesn't think I am a quitter. Anyway, I catch her with a few miles left after having a great ride up and down Nasty Grade. I find out that she had needed me and had been looking for me. She called me a "punk butt" which is Kathryn-ese for "glad to see you are OK". I keep going and finish the bike feeling awesome and I wait for her in transition.

We do the run together. I am way far behind the leaders and I decided it would be nice to support her and run with her instead of by myself. We run/walk/hike. I feel spectacular the whole time and really enjoyed the course. She is hurting. Carbo Pro is not her friend. She keeps going though and we make the best of it. By this point common courtesy is out the window and body functions are out in the open. Good bonding stuff.

We get to Lynch, which is a steep downhill for a mile or so leading to the finish. It hits me that I am about to finish my first triathlon, and she is going to do her first half on a course that bested her a couple years before. I get a little emotional and I become thankful that I am able to finish side by side with my best friend. I love that she was able to be there with me when I finished something so important to me, and vice versa.

We finish together, and then go about talking to people, eating, taking ice baths in the cold lake and eventually heading back for dinner and all kinds of craziness that night.

It was a great experience for me and I am happy that I was forced to take a step back and "train" the course instead of "race" it. I got to have fun and share an experience that I will never forget. I got to look at myself in incredible pain and know that there is no way that I won't finish my Ironman. I am super confident and super happy. I am 1/2 Iron.

Side note: I am incredibly happy that Carolyn "won". She is such a great team-mate and I am proud to be on the same team with her. A sadder note: my close friend and team-mate Nate had a serious injury and was forced to pull out. I hated to see that and I have my fingers crossed that it is a temporary setback and the he recovers fast.

Turning point

This past weekend started with an open water swim in the Bay at Aquatic Park. WOW - that was nasty. I had heard a lot of people complain about swimming there, but I didn't know why. I like salty stuff, so I thought this would be a tasty experience. The water was the worst thing that has ever gone in my mouth. However, I did the whole swim, and it was the furthest I have ever gone.

We ran afterwards and I quickly fell ill. I am not sure if it was swallowing too much water or swimming in waves - which I have been told can make you sick. Anyway, I ran/walked/puked for the next 1.75 hours. It was a disappointing day because I really wanted to get a long run in. Anyone that has been around me has seen my spirits sink. My athletic performance and training have been suffering, and I have had a lot of personal stress to deal with. Basically, I was pretty beat up.

Sunday we went for a long bike ride - a 62 miler on the Marin Century course. Michelle and I were both running late and so I drove us out there - after a 20 minute search for my truck keys that were in my pocket. It was really nice to have someone to go with. I had some terrible nightmares the night before and got little sleep.

We got to the parking lot late and I wasn't all there and it took a long time to get started. The rest of the group probably had 20-30 minutes on me at this point. I take off and within 5 miles I catch up to 5-10 of them helping Sara get her rear tire fixed. I stop to lend a hand and put the wheel back on. She makes it about a mile before she flats again. I discover a torn sidewall from a defective tire. Her ride is done. The rest of the group takes off and I hang with Sara till her boyfriend comes to get her. It was heart-breaking to see her ride ended so short since she really wanted to do it. It was going to be the longest ride she had ever done. I waited for a while and then Dave and a few other staff members show up. They tell me to take off just as Gabe was pulling up to get Sara.

I take off and all is well for about another mile. I am really attacking a twisty downhill section and I hear a noise. I decide to stop and check it out, and sure enough I am getting a slow-ish flat. A few more turns and I would have rolled the tire and been writing this from a hospital. I also had a sidewall tear - guess they are catchy. I stop to fix it. Dave and crew catch up. He eats a gu and gives me the package to use as a boot. It works and we are on our way. I ride with Dave and Nick for a good 15 miles or so. I am not pushing too hard and enjoying riding with people. We get to the base of a big hill and my manhood is attacked by a serious leg-shavin', tri-bikin' tri-geek. I chase after him. Dave and Nick think I am a 'tard. I am OK with that. I LOVE to chase. I give him the what-for up the hill and we catch Maria and Erin near the top. I ride with the dude for a while and then catch Les and Sis. I get directions from them and keep going.

I see a group in green and follow them. It was a road that Les had mentioned, but I went the wrong way. I thought I was following Kinion's group, but it was really a group of Taleo riders. They were about a mile ahead of me and it took me 13 miles to catch them. By the time I got close enough to realize it wasn't my guys I was WAYYYY off course (man they were fast!!).

I go to get my paper directions and find that I have lost them too. So....my iPhone and me set off to make it back. I end up all over the place - even on a dirt/mud road for a while. I am scared that I will flat again since I am out of fixing supplies. I end up in a standoff with a crazy looking wild dog that is in the middle of the dirt road. I get off the bike and walk it past him in case he attacks. We give each other the stink-eye but neither of us attacks. Phew.

Back on the bike and navigating my way around. I am making good time and feeling strong. I am out of water and out of food, but still OK. I am about 5 miles from the car when Google Maps keeps putting me into an endless loop. I am tired and frustrated at this point and I keep adding miles. I finally say fuck it and ride my bike on Hwy 101 for a few miles. 2 Hwy Patrol pass me and don't do anything. It was scary, but I didn't want to have to call for a ride.

I make it to the school and I am relieved that people are there waiting for me, especially a couple people in particular. Sara comes in shortly after I do and I find out she got a new tire and did her ride. I am so happy for her! I change, drink, eat and hang out with teamies till everyone finishes. I felt great though. I was super strong on the ride and could have run right after my 85 mile ride. It was very confidence inspiring.

A small group goes to lunch. Fun but awkward. Michelle and I have a fun ride home, filled with r'tard sightings and good conversation and a couple of detours. It was the first time I had really gotten a good chance to talk to her one on one and she is super cool. I am so lucky to have been able to make such good friends this way. I wish I had been a part of TNT for years now.

One additional note - I ran 6 miles yesterday and felt awesome! I feel like my body and mind have really come together and I can't wait for the race this weekend. I got a major source of stress taken care of and all those bad training sessions seem to be coming together.

redefining myself

I saw myself on Saturday. Well, I saw a side of myself, but it was a side that I didn't know existed. People often have a rolling definition of themselves, and others, and everything for that matter. It is like a personal Wikipedia where some definitions are static and others are dynamic and constantly being updated.

I had to re-define myself, at least for the moment, with the term: quitter. That scared me.

We started with the swim, and it all went well till I swam too far and added a considerable amount to my swim. I kept going, but I stopped pushing myself. In all honesty, I was really enjoying the swim. On the first bike portion I decided to go for a ride by myself. I knew before the day started that I needed some alone time on the bike instead of being on the trainer. It went well enough, but there were no metrics to judge by.

Then we got to the first run. I have lost another 10 lbs and was feeling pretty good. I was off the front and planning to give the fasties a run for their money. I was, and I was feeling great - like I had a lot more to give. Then, I just kinda slowed down and turned around. On the way back I picked it up close to the end - where I could have easily sprinted to the finish. Instead, I just stopped running and jogged in slowly.

We moved over to hill repeats on the bike. A few days before I was killing it on the short hill repeats like this. I should have owned this. I did a slow one to get to know the hill, and was feeling good. I did a couple fast ones that I bet were pretty fast overall, and then I caught Nate, whom I was hoping to race up the hill. Nate got really fast when nobody was looking and I wanted to get my crown back. Anyway, we take off and I have a LOT more in my legs and I am just slightly ahead. Then - I just stop peddaling. I just didn't feel like fighting anymore. I turn around mid-hill defeated and wondering what is going on with me. I go to the bottom to race someone else. Simon is there and I decide to give it another go. Same thing - and we weren't even going hard. At this point I am wondering what is going on with me. My body feels fine, but my brain just isn't cooperating.

We get done and go to the next run. I only go about 7 (of 10) minutes out and then a group is heading back and I jump on to be able to run with someone else. I am feeling good. Towards the end BK and the Clingon take off right about the point I would usually start my sprint. I figured that would be a big confidence booster. Guess what? I quit again. I walk the rest of the way in. People are cheering people on as they finish and ignore me, thankfully, as I hang my head in shame.

I proceed to pig out on questionably edible food, not caring about my diet. I eat like crap the whole rest of the weekend and spend most of Sunday in bed skipping my run.

I had to edit my personal definition of myself and add: quitter.

I know it wasn't a race, and I hadn't gotten much sleep, had a lot of stress, perhaps not enough water....blah blah blah....but those are all excuses. I have continued to fight when the chips were totally stacked against me. I finished a race with a stick in my kidney because I didn't want to have to edit my definition.

Coach Dave was talking about people seeing a different side of themselves at the Bootcamp weekend, which I had thought was relatively easy. Now, I see a different side of myself on a super easy weekend.

I am taking some time and diving into myself. I am going to tighten whatever got loose up there and get back to who I am. Rest assured, I made the edit in pencil. Light pencil.