Addicted

Well, I’m sure everyone wants to know how the Tri went…It was awesome. Of course I can say that now, I am no longer sore, my bruises are healing and I have enough distance from the event so that I can look back on it fondly and not remember how hard it was. :)

When my sister-in-law and I arrived at the event at 6am, my stomach was tied up in knots. I can’t remember the last time I felt so nervous. As a dancer I never had stage fright, I was always supremely confident walking out on stage. This was my first real case of stage fright. I could barely eat anything before the race and I felt more and more nauseous as the time ticked down to the start of the race. It didn’t help that that I have a crew of men sticking their cameras in my face and asking me how I felt. That crew included my dear husbeast, my brother-in-law, and my father-in-law. I looked out at the water and and at the large orange buoys that marked where we were to swim. It looked a lot farther than the measly 10 laps I had been swimming at the pool. The water was a bit chilly but luckily much warmer than I had expected, since I didn’t have a wet suit. Finally we got in the water and my first Triathlon began. The swim was actually the best part of the whole race. The water was disgusting, but after I rounded the first buoy I got into my rhythm, my very slow rhythm, and I felt like I could swim for hours. Kim and I actually finished the swim at the same time. We hadn’t planned on staying together the whole Tri, but after that we stuck together the rest of the race.

On came the shoes and helmet and I was off on the bike trail, which incidentally was a mountain bike course. Silly me, the name of the race IS the San Jose Sprint Mountain Bike Triathlon. Was I prepared for a mountain bike course? No. Have I ever mountain biked in my life? No. Did it even occur to me prior to the race that mountain biking might be tough? No. Boy was I surprised when the bike course went totally off-road complete with rocky paths, sharp turns and steep dirt hills. I fell off my bike a few times and caught a few really nasty bruises but It wasn’t as tiring as I thought the bike course would be because I had to go slowly and take my time or I risked killing myself:). My borrowed mountain bike was a horrible bike that I will never ride again. It was Mark’s in high school and it hadn’t been ridden in years. I kept putting my weight on the pedal only to have it give out as the gears did something funky, let’s just say I got quite a bruised tushy. In the final mile of the course there is a small stream that you are supposed to ride right though if you have enough momentum and you don’t get stuck. Guess who got stuck? Muddy wet shoes, muddy wet socks, bruised tushy, bruised knee…Yeah, I’m hard core.

So I roll into the transition area to drop off my bike and head out on the run. Luckily by some miracle I had a spare pare of socks to change into so I didn’t have to wear wet ones for the run. Couldn’t help the wet muddy shoes though. Once again, Kim and I headed out about the same time. I was tired and it was really starting to heat up. Did I mention that I had only finally been able to run 3 miles straight, without stopping to walk, only one week before the race? And that was only running, without the swim and bike beforehand. So I thought for sure I would be too tired to run and would have to walk most of this leg of the race. Luckily, I was surprised to find that as long as I kept to a slow jog I was able to keep going without walking. Maybe it was the adrenaline of knowing I was almost done that kept me going. Whatever it was I was floored by my body’s ability to keep going. I walked a little bit, but I ran most of the 3.1 miles. Crossing the finish line was an amazing feeling. There are few times in my life, especially in adulthood, when I have felt that thrill of success, that pride and sense of accomplishment. Not only because I completed this physical test of endurance, but because I completed something I never thought myself capable of. It’s such a great feeling to stare defeat in the face and overcome it. It makes me feel like the old me that used to give up before she even tried is gone, and I can do anything I want if I work hard enough.

My Father-in-law compared triathlons to pregnancy and childbirth. I have thought about it ever since. It’s totally true. During the pregnancy you are excited and nervous and you prepare yourself as best you can but nothing can truly prepare you for the physical task you will face. Then you go into labor and you think “why did I do this?” and “I am in for a world of hurt, I know it”, which is about what I was thinking around the middle of my triathlon. During birth you have to find some way to grit your teeth and get through it, and it can be horrible and painful, but you have to do it. Now, granted, my triathlon was nowhere NEAR as painful at childbirth, but I had to grit my teeth and get though it even though my body wanted me to quit at times.

Then you get this amazing thrill of victory and achievement when it is all over. Immediately afterward you can’t imagine wanting to do it ever again, but slowly as time goes by you find yourself forgetting the pain and physical discomfort and all you remember is that feeling you had when it was all over. That is why women can bring themselves to go though childbirth again, because they have forgotten how painful it can be and also because they want the beautiful baby it the end of it all. That is why people do triathlons over and over, because they forget how physically demanding it was and only remember the amazing feeling of pushing their body to the limits and succeeding. I know that I want to have that feeling again.

I’m a triathalete.

I think I’m addicted.