Well, I'm sure if you've read this thing once before, you are aware of my habit of being over-wordy. Since the triathlon was the climax of all previous posts, I will do my best to be concise and not draw it out too much. That being said...

The Triathlon. Oh boy.

It all started Saturday morning with the GIANT expo downtown. I was there for two and a half hours, getting my packet and swim cap, looking at all the excessive accessories I could indulge in, and listening to the course talk. I finally tore myself away and headed back home. I stopped at Walgreen's on the way and bought 64 ounces of Gatorade, 5 Clif Bars (5 for $5-- I'm a sucker for a sale), waterproof mascara, and gum. So I scurried home with much more baggage than I left with (between the expo and Walgreen's, I was getting an extra lifting session in!). At my apartment I overtook the living room and spread out everything I'd need on race day. That included three swim caps, two swim suits, my race number and belt, wetsuit, two pairs of goggles, helmet, 'triathlon shorts,' TNT top and t-shirt (still hadn't decided which I'd wear..), bike tools, bike pack, hydration pack, shoes, flip flops, towel, three water bottles, Clif Bars, gum, change of clothes, and much more. Crazy! I soon realized it was time to go to the TNT Pasta Dinner that started at 6pm downtown. There, we ate buttery pasta and white bread while learning about our fundraising totals, the future goals of TNT, and heard one of our Teammate's personal battle with blood cancer. It was nice to have that time to be motivated by the fundraising numbers (over $300,000 by the Chicago team-- PHENOMENAL!!!) and to mentally prepare for the ensuing race. Admittedly, my mind was wandering-- I was trying to figure out how quickly I could get to bed! I left the pasta party around 8pm, got home by 9:15. There was still some last minute preparing to do which included putting everything that was spread out on the floor in my bag and trying on all the spandex one last time to make sure it wasn't TOO appalling. I was SUPER nervous... but forced myself to believe that I was READY.
So, I set my alarm for 2:00am (!!!) and prayed that I wouldn't oversleep. I woke up at 12:30 and was deliriously convinced it was 3:30am. OH NO! I AM SO LATE! I JUMPED out of bed (dangerous-- I have a loft!) and started to get my things together. As I scurried to get my water bottles out of the freezer, I saw the time on the oven 12:34. You've got to be kidding me. I shuffled back to my bedroom both relieved and irritated. I did end up oversleeping, but only by 30 minutes. I'd prepared for this as I didn't really have to get up until 2:30. I nervously got ready then headed out. I'd originally planned to take the El downtown because I wanted to save my legs for the race. This made me nervous, though, because the El is under construction which screws everything up no matter how diligently one plans. I even asked the CTA worker on my way home from the pasta party what I could do to get downtown by 4am the following morning. He looked at me like I was nuts and then called someone and said I could take the Red Line. Doable. However, I just didn't trust it. So as I rode the Iron Horse to the nearest Red Line stop, I hesitated and ended up riding past it, halfway on purpose. I spontaneously decided to nix that plan and to just ride down to Transition. It was about a 6 mile ride, a perfect warm up. You may recall my whining about the popularity and crowded-ness of the Lake Front trail in the past, but I have found a solution to that: ride at 3:30 in the morning and it is EMPTY. It was one of the best rides I've ever had on that trail! There were a couple of people I noticed along the way who were still enjoying their Saturday night. One couple was even reproducing right there on the side of the trail-- gutsy. The trail is great until you get to Navy Pier, then it gets funny. At this point I saw someone else who looked Triathlon-bound and decided to follow them because I had no idea where to go. I watched as he followed a car that was closing the on ramp to Lake Shore Drive (as this is where the bike leg would be taking place). Since it was closed, the biker went up the on ramp. I decided to follow my fellow idiot in hopes it would get me to Transition in time. Well, just because the on ramp is closed doesn't mean all cars are off the highway! That was an adrenaline rush... if I wasn't quite awake yet, the sound of super speedy cars not far from me sure did the trick! Fortunately my daredevil leader got off at the next opportunity and we were spit out right at transition at 4:15am. Perfect timing. Phew.
I put my number on my bike and helmet, strapped the timing chip on my ankle, and wheeled in to the mini-city also known as Transition. Holy canoli it was HUGE. To capture its enormity, one would need to be in an airplane. It was pitch black and people were rushing around like morons, convinced they'd win the race and everyone around them was some peon in their way. Psh. I was relieved to find the rack for my wave (46 of 54.. sick), and then to find some of my Teammates that were in my wave. We set our space up and then I walked the Transition area with one of them. We went from the 'Swim In' to our bikes, then to the 'Bike Out,' which was also the bike in. We then went back to our spot, then to the 'Run Out.' That was probably one of the best things I did, because had I not done it, I would have been painfully lost during the race! Walking it allowed me to be oriented within Transition and to find landmarks to look for during the race that would help me find my spot faster and be more efficient. We then ventured over to the swim start where we'd WAIT for FIVE HOURS!!! Wave 46 didn't start until 9:21am. PAINFUL. Despite our later start, we still had to arrive at 4:15am because transition closed at 5:45am and with 8,700 participants signed up, I didn't want to be one of the late comers trying to fight my way in amongst the masses at the last minute. The swim start was a good jaunt from Transition, and as we walked along the lake the sun was starting to rise. It was BEAUTIFUL. The sunrise alone would have made it worth it to wake up at 2:30. We continued on like ants in a line. There were so many people there, I started to get uneasy. By the time we actually got to the start, the first wave was lining up. Even though I still had about three and a half hours until my start, I felt like I was late! The race was starting and I was JUST getting there!! I lined up with the spectators to watch them go. I really wanted to see how this whole swim start would go down-- I'd heard so many rumors of assault and pure mayhem. I soon saw, and would later experience, that they were not rumors, but fair warnings. After scaring myself even more so, I went to find the TNT 'spot' a few hundred yards from the Swim Start. Then I waited... for eternity. Essentially, everyone would have to wait on race day-- either for their wave to start (if you had a late start), or for transition to re-open (if you had an early start). I waited before I raced which would have been my last choice because I psych myself out before things like this. I psych myself out before I go running on my own if I'm given too much time to think about it much less the largest triathlon IN THE WORLD! So for the next three-ish hours I hydrated, ate a Clif Bar and an orange, and wrestled with butterflies. At one point, herky-jerky hip coach came up to me and said: "For the swim, get in the second row. You're a strong swimmer and belong in the front. Hold your ground. If you stay in back, you'll spend the first couple hundred yards fighting through people." I looked at him quite puzzled... this was the man who told me that I was a pretty pathetic swimmer due to my lack of abdominal muscles (remember: "Do you do any ab work.. at all???"). So I said 'well, okay,' but was really thinking WHAT?! That ruined my whole plan! I was totally content hanging out in the back and letting the crazies beat each other up and disperse, then commence my race! I had zero plan of getting in there and swimming through people AND water! Shoot.

Lets discuss hydrating: it is SO important in these things-- dehydration renders one USELESS and unable to perform, much less perform well. So, I hydrated. However, hydrating makes one have to use the restroom SO MUCH. Even at the expo the day before I had to hit the ladies room FOUR different times! So race morning I was hurting. There were porta-potties near the Swim Start, but the lines for them were astronomical. I broke down and went over there at 7:45am and waited for THIRTY MINUTES! I've never been so eager to get to a porta-potty. After waiting so long, I vowed that I wouldn't go back before I started. So I went back to waiting. About 30 minutes before my race I checked the gear I'd brought with me (flip flops, hoodie, extra cap and goggles, etc) and started to put my wetsuit on. Since returning from the porta potties, I'd been denying the fact I had to go again. By this time though I couldn't deny it any longer, I had to GO! But I refused-- if I did go at this point I would miss my start and that was not an option. So I waddled over to the line up which was right at the edge of the lake. Like cattle we went into our fenced area and moved closer when we were told. I must have looked like a kindergartner, because I was performing the "I GOTTA GO" dance. I was so overwhelmed by my nerves and my about-to-rupture bladder.. I just didn't know what to do with myself. When we were finally the next wave to go, I was near death, but managed to turn around and look at all the people watching. That helped ZERO. I also got a little sad-- so many people were there supporting their friends or family... huge signs and loud cheers for what seemed like EVERYONE. I was sad to not have someone there cheering for me in particular but then I remembered all the emails and text messages I'd received in the previous days/weeks/months offering more encouragement and motivation than I could have ever asked for. Before I knew it it was my turn to jump in the water. As soon as I did, I let loose-- I could not hold it anymore... and it's almost an expected thing for people to relieve themselves once in the water. I hate the excuse 'Well, everyone does it," but this time I have to use it. The last injury I expected to encounter on race day was a burst bladder. Somewhat relieved, I heard the countdown "5..4..3..2..1..BEEP!" Holy toledo. Imagine 150 people treading water. They're crowded in a small space in a vertical position. Now imagine 150 vertical people in a small space all suddenly and simultaneously shifting to a horizontal position and KICKING AND FLAPPING LIKE LUNATICS whilst doing so. I'd been warned, but nothing could have fully prepared me for the absolute MAYHEM that was the beginning of the swim. I'd decided to follow Herky-Jerky Hip Coach's advice and get to the start. I'm all about doing what it takes to get the best time possible. Being at the front meant I was amongst the crazies that think they're going to win the whole thing and will take out anyone who stands (or floats) in their way. I was kicked, slapped, and violated in many ways. I wanted to hop out of the lake, let them go and then start when no one was there. I decided to stick it out and just pray that I didn't take a blow to the face. I may have contributed at one point... I grabbed someone's ankle and pulled myself forward... hehe. For at least 400 yards people swam over me under me, tried to swim up my wetsuit. I have personal space issues to being with-- this really pushed them and me overboard. I was getting panicky and started wheezing. HELL NO. I REFUSE to have an asthma attack this early in the race! If a lifeguard has to assist you and pull you out, your race is over. I didn't work hard all summer to wuss out in the first five minutes. So I wheezed along and finally it thinned out a little. I got into a rhythm and swam the best I could given the conditions. I turned at the buoy, encountering more bodies and attack (as I've told a couple people already-- a whole new meaning to the breast stroke!!!). After the turn it was a straight shot to the swim finish. IT seemed to take forever. Once I got into my rhythm and what not I was passing people and feeling good. I couldn't hear my breathing anymore (always a plus) and I was using my sighting stroke to avoid swimming to Michigan. I was even passing people from the wave before me. I felt good, but I was ready for the swim to be over. Every now and then I'd come up to someone who was flailing about like a mad person and would fall victim to their spastic movements. I finally reached the finish where it got very physical again-- people were determined to get OUT of that water and would not let me get in their way-- I got kicked in the HEAD at the swim finish! Seriously. The water along the swim was deep-- too deep to touch, so at the end they had steps that resembled bleachers to help the swimmers out. There were also volunteers to give us a hand as we regained our land legs. I am very grateful for those that pulled me up and out of the water. It would have been ugly without their steady hands! Out of the water I pulled down my wet suit and yanked off my cap and goggles. It was a quarter mile jog to transition which I was fine with, except it was on pavement and we were barefoot. That jog hurt my feet SO BADLY. I never even expected it to be that awful, but it was terrible and my feet STILL hurt-- I honestly think they're bruised. I looked so goofy limping along! I barely made it back to my bike and immediately socked and shoed my throbbing dogs. I threw on my helmet and hydration pack and was off to the 'Bike Out.' The bike was so much better than I thought it would be and I am so proud of the IRON HORSE! She did so great! (Shout out to ELEMENT MULTI SPORT for getting her ready for the race!) The bike leg took place on Lake Shore Drive. We went from transition (Lake Shore and Randolph) up to Foster Avenue and back-- TWICE. Winds were a bear coming from the north, so that part was AWFUL, but going south was much better. I am eternally grateful for the hydration pack my parents sent in their "Triathlon Survival Kit," as I would have been way too chicken to reach down for my water bottle! The hydration pack allowed me to drink as much as I wanted through an easily accessible straw. I'd filled it with Gatorade which was a good move since I sweat like a sweaty man and needed to replace those electrolytes if I wanted to finish the run leg that was coming up. The pot holes on Lake Shore are PAINFUL. Literally. With IH's new tires, there is much less cushion/tolerance for disturbances in the road's flat-ness. AND the "Drive" is much more hilly than I EVER gave it credit for. Yea, we're in the midwest, but holy cow, ther eare some significant inclines. I finished the bike and felt somewhat good about it-- the new tires on Iron Horse and her new ability to shift (still kinda shotty, but way better) made all the difference and cut 33 minutes off my time from when I'd practiced! It took me longer than I'd hoped to park my bike. I couldn't get it turned around the way it needed to be in order to get it up on the rack. Also, my neatly organized transition area had been torn to pieces by the other clowns who'd flown through. Obnoxiuos. Regardless, I parked IH, de-helmeted, de-hydration packed, clipped on my race belt and took off. Actually I waddled off. My legs were absolutely shot. They wouldn't move. AND I had to got to the bathroom again! No matter how I begged and pleaded with my legs, they were throwing a temper tantrum and compliance was not happening. I settled for one foot in front of the other at a painfully slow pace for the fist half mile. Then I spotted porta-potties. I debated for maybe a milli-second: Should I stop and go? YES. I pulled over and did what I had to do. In hind-sight I'm really glad I did.. it would have been ugly trying to hold it for the next six miles. Even still, my legs were failing me. At mile 2 they came back for a couple of minutes and I thought "phew!" but by mile three there was nothing left within them. They were screaming at me and my kneeds threatened to buckle ANY SECOND. They sta right on the fence of being so painful they were numb-- but not quite yet. I gladly accepted fluids at each available opportunity except the first one. The first Gatorade I grabbed I tried to drink in the middle of running-- bad idea, I ended up with Gatorade everywhere but my mouth-- all over my face, sunglasses, shirt... and I was still thirsty. The next time I briefly paused and took it in like it was a shot, then kept going. At the next fluid table I took water and just dumped it on me which was so refreshing. People were lined up to cheer at the very beginning and thevery end of the run, but between mile 2 and 5 there was nothing, and that is when I needed it most. Those three miles were eerily quiet. I didnt' have my headphones to distract me and all I could hear was the panting and footsteps of my fellow runners. My lungs were fine because I was going SO PAINFULLY SLOW, but my legs were just not functioning. Everything form my quads down BEGGED me to stop-- even just for a minute; walk, even, just take SOME sort of a break. I promised myself long ago that I would NOT walk any part of the run, so I refused to grant the wishes of my lower extremities. Somehow I ended up at mile 5 and people started cheering again and that raised my spirits a little bit. I could hear the cheers from the finish line, and spectators kept saying "Almost there! Keep going!" "OKAY!" I replied, somewhat delerious... At mile 6 I was so relieved. I was 0.2 miles from being done with my first triathlon. Bittersweet, to be honest. It's been such a journey up to this point, and crossing the finish line meant it'd be over. Don't worry, I didn't hesitate, I may have even sped up a little. A whole swell of emotions came up in that last stretch and I won't ever forget it.
Once across the finish line I was filled with relief. I could speak or even really walk straight. I aproached the Chip Clippers (volunteers who take on the sweaty task of clipping off the timing chips we strapped to our ankles) and had to convince my foot to go up on to the step. I sauntered forward rather aimlessly. My head was super foggy and I wanted to be more alert than I was but I needed some glucose in order to get there. Fortunately, I approached a Gatorade table and with a couple of swallows I started to come back. I then came up to the bagel and banana table and enthusiastically partook. At the end of the finish-line area I saw a man sprawled out on the ground, face up with his arms extended and eyes closed. Oh, Lord, I'm going to have to do CPR. "Sir, are you okay?" I asked. No response. Dangit. I nudged his toe with mine and he opened one eye looked me like I was the devil himself. "Are you okay, Sir???" I asked again. He nodded and so I accepted that, begging for any reason to avoid mouth to mouth, I'd left my face mask at home. I exited transition and continued to follow the masses. Eventually I decided I should have a destination. I decided to make my way back to the swim start so I could get the gear that I'd checked there-- including my phone, camera, and wallet... silly things like that. The bags were lined up along the lake in number order, but there was a two foot step down to get to them. I looked at the step and chuckeld. I was barely able to walk, much less make that jump. Fortunately, there was a nice young man that was there to help sad souls like me. I accepted his strong arm and proceeded to get my belongings, then accepted his strong arm again to get me back up. Small perks of being a triathlete, I guess. =) At transition, I found two of my good friends who had come to watch the festivities! It was SO GREAT to see familiar faces. Yea, I'd had the TNT family there supporting me along the way, but it was extra great to see people outside of the triathlon world there to say 'Congratuatlions.' We all walked to the El where I somehow found the strength to hoist Iron Horse up the 8,000 stairs and into the platform, then on to the El, then back downthe platform once at my stop. I slowly biked home, receiving odd stares along the way. I looked pretty rough at this point, no doubt and wasn't moving all too quickly.

So that is most of the race. I will write more on what has happened since later. I give you much credit and congratulations if you have made it this far.