I'm coming to realize that a triathlon is kind of like a cake. Several different things go into the end product that isn't anything like its ingredients. Once the cake is finished, you cannot pull out an egg or a cup of sugar. Triathlons seem to follow the same suit. The ingredients-- swimming, biking, and running all come together to form an insanely hard race. Since I started considering doing a triathlon, I've had the mindset of 'I can swim, I can ride a bike, and I can run, therefore I can do a triathlon-- piece of cake,' (no pun intended). However, after the mini-tri with TNT last week and this super sprint tri yesterday, I coming to find that even though I have all the ingredients, it doesn't necessarily mean that the end product is in the bag. Honestly, I'm nervous that I've come to this revelation so late in the game... there are twenty two days until I race and that is not enough time to right the wrongs I've committed in training. I think I will have to do what I can with the time I have and learn the lesson. Darnit.
So the race yesterday w
as crazy crazy far south-- the end of the Green Line for all you Chicagoans. I am eternally grateful for my former roommate who let me borrow her car so I didn't have to wake up at 2:30am to take the train. The night before I got everything ready so I could get up and not have to worry about anything. This included putting a water bottle cage on IH, pumping up her FAT tires, putting IH in the back of my friend's car, packing some food, Gatorade mixing, getting sunglasses, and just all 
those last minute things. Unfortunately those last minutes stretched out until 11:00pm which allowed me 4 hours of sleep. Lesson learned-- again. So, I left and arrived painfully early... 4:53am and the gates to the parking lot were locked. 
After I got parked and reassembled my bike (had to pop off her front tire to fit her in the car), I headed to transition-- early of course, they wouldn't be opening it for another 30 minutes. So I waited. I like having time to mentally orient myself, so I was fine, although my nerves were building by the SECOND. I finally got in and set up my area. Then I stood and waited. As I stood there and 
people watched, I heard someone behind me ask "Can I mark your body?" Hell no! Was my instinctive reaction, but as I turned around I saw her fat permanent marker and realized I needed to have my number written on me. Still-- no more comfortable, but necessary. Once I'd been marked,I visited the port-a-potties three times over the next thirty minutes. The women setting up next to me were very kind and encouraging. While nobody could say anything to ease my nerves, it was nice to pass the time with small talk rather than mentally psych-ing myself out more.It was finally time to go down to the beach. As we were walking I went to pull on my complimentary swim cap and it snapped. I was surprisingly calm. I broug
ht three extra-- just in case... and this time it paid off. I scampered back to my area and found an extra and made it back in plenty of time for the race-talk. What actually was going on was Bally's warm-up. My word... it was not a warm up I participated in for two reasons: 1) it was ridiculous... marching in place and punching the air? no thank you, and 2) it was led by pretty girls wearing essentially nothing for no reason. That went on for a solid ten minutes. I stretched what I needed to and let that be that. As we were standing on the beach, everyone kept saying 'geez, look at those waves.' THEY WERE HUGE. Please do not look at the picture below and think 'those are pansy waves' becuase this picture doesn't come CLOSE to representing the true nature of the swells that were very similar to the Pacific Ocean... where people surf the waves. I'd noticed upon arrival that the water looked really choppy but forced myself to believe that it always looks like that. I couldn't deny any longer, though, that the water was in fact really choppy and it would probably create havoc in the swim leg. After waiting around for at least 20 minutes to give the waves a chance to die down, the race started despite the growing height of the waves. As we waited, the buoys toppled completely over with each rush, the life guard boat was being tossed around like a toy, and my stomach started creeping up my throat. I felt like I was going to vomit
just WATCHING the water. My wave waded in to our waist to wait for the start horn. Chaos. My wave was women ages 15-34. When we started 'swimming' it was shrieks and nervous laugther, "Oh my GOSH!'s" and gasping all around. It sounded like some obnoxious sorority gathering. There was no way one could swim in that. At all. Trust me-- I tried. So, I'm grateful the water was about 4ft deep as it allowed me to run the swim. That is right, I ran the swim leg of the triathlon. Legal? Probably not. However-- I really had little choice-- run it or die trying to swim it. I'd rather be DQ'd from the race than from life. I was not alone in my decision as many of my wave-mates were running it and getting in my way whilst doing so. OUT OF CONTROL. It really threw me off-- my legs were tired, and the swim leg is supposed to preserve your legs for the bike and swim. I didn't expect the dynamic of what happened in the swim leg at all, and unfortunately I rely HEAVILY upon mental preparation in all areas of life. But I didn't drown, and I actually think I was the last one out of the water. It was definitely like a really bad episode of Baywatch as I tried to run out ..oy... haha, what can ya do. I was rather angry at this point-- my first triathlon, and I apparently couldn't swim? How would the results be at all accurate if this is how the race started? It just irritated me to no end. Again, this picture does not come close to representing the actual size of the waves that I encountered. I would gladly swim in baby waves like these. Shoot.
So I scurried up to the transition, passing people along the way. I had a lot of time (and dignity) to make up. I peeled my wetsuit off along the way, also shedding any ounce of self respect or pride. I guess its good to get rid of those. The results say that I took 2:54 in transition 1 but it sure didn't seem like that. I threw on my shirt, socks and shoes (with elastic shoelaces now!), snapped on my helmet and slipped on my cheap-o Jewel sunglasses and was off. Honestly, I don't know how it took so long, but again, another thing to be mindful of for Accenture.
The bike was pretty unremarkable. It just reminded me of how much I want a functioning triathlon bike. I guess it is almost a rite of passage in a sense.. if I want to do triathlons bad enough, I'll do my first real one on a mountain bike. Initiation almost. After the 6.2 mile bike, my legs were SO TIRED! I've done the full 25 on my mountain bike before in training, but I don't remember them feeling like that. I think the 'race' part of it all got to me. I see people ...racing, and that stresses me out and I am like 'holy cow pick it up, self!' Also, this race was a super sprint-- you're supposed to go as fast as you can because the distances are crazy crazy short. So we'll see. I finally finished the bike. Apparently it takes 1:12 to park a bike and take off a helmet. Shoot, Transition 2 wasn't my best showing either. The run is what I felt best about in comparison to the other two legs, even though my time was rather absurd for a mile and a half. I have to remember that I can't necessarily judge each leg as I have in the past. I can't compare my run times to times I've achieved outside the triathlon context. Goes back to the whole cake thing... it's just completely different.
ht three extra-- just in case... and this time it paid off. I scampered back to my area and found an extra and made it back in plenty of time for the race-talk. What actually was going on was Bally's warm-up. My word... it was not a warm up I participated in for two reasons: 1) it was ridiculous... marching in place and punching the air? no thank you, and 2) it was led by pretty girls wearing essentially nothing for no reason. That went on for a solid ten minutes. I stretched what I needed to and let that be that. As we were standing on the beach, everyone kept saying 'geez, look at those waves.' THEY WERE HUGE. Please do not look at the picture below and think 'those are pansy waves' becuase this picture doesn't come CLOSE to representing the true nature of the swells that were very similar to the Pacific Ocean... where people surf the waves. I'd noticed upon arrival that the water looked really choppy but forced myself to believe that it always looks like that. I couldn't deny any longer, though, that the water was in fact really choppy and it would probably create havoc in the swim leg. After waiting around for at least 20 minutes to give the waves a chance to die down, the race started despite the growing height of the waves. As we waited, the buoys toppled completely over with each rush, the life guard boat was being tossed around like a toy, and my stomach started creeping up my throat. I felt like I was going to vomit
just WATCHING the water. My wave waded in to our waist to wait for the start horn. Chaos. My wave was women ages 15-34. When we started 'swimming' it was shrieks and nervous laugther, "Oh my GOSH!'s" and gasping all around. It sounded like some obnoxious sorority gathering. There was no way one could swim in that. At all. Trust me-- I tried. So, I'm grateful the water was about 4ft deep as it allowed me to run the swim. That is right, I ran the swim leg of the triathlon. Legal? Probably not. However-- I really had little choice-- run it or die trying to swim it. I'd rather be DQ'd from the race than from life. I was not alone in my decision as many of my wave-mates were running it and getting in my way whilst doing so. OUT OF CONTROL. It really threw me off-- my legs were tired, and the swim leg is supposed to preserve your legs for the bike and swim. I didn't expect the dynamic of what happened in the swim leg at all, and unfortunately I rely HEAVILY upon mental preparation in all areas of life. But I didn't drown, and I actually think I was the last one out of the water. It was definitely like a really bad episode of Baywatch as I tried to run out ..oy... haha, what can ya do. I was rather angry at this point-- my first triathlon, and I apparently couldn't swim? How would the results be at all accurate if this is how the race started? It just irritated me to no end. Again, this picture does not come close to representing the actual size of the waves that I encountered. I would gladly swim in baby waves like these. Shoot.So I scurried up to the transition, passing people along the way. I had a lot of time (and dignity) to make up. I peeled my wetsuit off along the way, also shedding any ounce of self respect or pride. I guess its good to get rid of those. The results say that I took 2:54 in transition 1 but it sure didn't seem like that. I threw on my shirt, socks and shoes (with elastic shoelaces now!), snapped on my helmet and slipped on my cheap-o Jewel sunglasses and was off. Honestly, I don't know how it took so long, but again, another thing to be mindful of for Accenture.
The bike was pretty unremarkable. It just reminded me of how much I want a functioning triathlon bike. I guess it is almost a rite of passage in a sense.. if I want to do triathlons bad enough, I'll do my first real one on a mountain bike. Initiation almost. After the 6.2 mile bike, my legs were SO TIRED! I've done the full 25 on my mountain bike before in training, but I don't remember them feeling like that. I think the 'race' part of it all got to me. I see people ...racing, and that stresses me out and I am like 'holy cow pick it up, self!' Also, this race was a super sprint-- you're supposed to go as fast as you can because the distances are crazy crazy short. So we'll see. I finally finished the bike. Apparently it takes 1:12 to park a bike and take off a helmet. Shoot, Transition 2 wasn't my best showing either. The run is what I felt best about in comparison to the other two legs, even though my time was rather absurd for a mile and a half. I have to remember that I can't necessarily judge each leg as I have in the past. I can't compare my run times to times I've achieved outside the triathlon context. Goes back to the whole cake thing... it's just completely different.All in all it was a great practice for Accenture. I finished 5th out of the 15 in my division (don't know how
they split up divisions), 16th out of the 112 women, got the complimentary metal, and free fresh fruit afterwards. And the race shirt is a tank top that I thoroughly enjoy! I'm not at all content with my times and am excited to work hard to improve them. I learned a lot and think I will be better prepared for Accenture than if I hadn't done this race. I still need to figure out how to hydrate during the bike. Yesterday I had my water bottle on the bike, but I didn't want to reach down for it because I didn't want it to slow me down. Fortunately it was a short enough bike for it to not be a huge deal, and the run afterwards was short enough that I wasn't too dehydrated during it. Good things to practice! Today I have a bear of a workout-- it's the group workout I missed yesterday in order to participate in the race. A two hour bike followed immediately by a 45 minute run. A brick! I now realize to an even greater extent the necessity of completing these workouts... running off the bike is close to torture-- even after a 6.2 mile bike and for a 1.5 mile run. I'm PETRIFIED for the 24.8 mile bike and 6.2 mile run.To keep me honest-- here are the results:
Kristin Ourada
bib number: 107
age: 22
gender: F
location: Chicago, IL
overall place: 62 out of 221
division place: 5 out of 15
gender place: 16 out of 112
time: 44:33
swim: 5:57
trans 1: 2:54
bike: 22:16
trans 2: 1:12
run: 12:15
bib number: 107
age: 22
gender: F
location: Chicago, IL
overall place: 62 out of 221
division place: 5 out of 15
gender place: 16 out of 112
time: 44:33
swim: 5:57
trans 1: 2:54
bike: 22:16
trans 2: 1:12
run: 12:15
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