The Race

By the time I'd arrived to transition in the morning I was so NOT excited for what was about to go down. Everything had just been building up negative energy: the last triathlon shenanigan, worrying about getting my bike there, barely getting my bike out of the car, CONSTRUCTION up to wazoo, trying to FIND transition... It was all so much more complicated than it should ever be and made everything building up to the race not fun, and well when you do these things for fun it becomes a serious problem when lack of fun is had. So I was grumpy and thinking I should just go home, I'm done with triathlons, this is stupid.
By the time I got into transition and my spot set up I was exhausted from all the worrying I'd done in the past 24 hours. I was in and set up by 4:45am so I had an hour and 15 minutes to kill before they closed it. I walked the in's and out's and hit up the port-a-potties twice. The promised bike guys didn't show up until 5:40am and I wasn't about to move my bike at that point-- the late comers will take any open spot on the bike rack no matter what. The last thing I needed was to find a new spot. I saw a guy a couple of bikes down with a bike pump and stared for a long time hoping he'd get my telepathic messages asking if I could borrow it. He didn't so I swallowed my pride and asked. He hesitated-- I hate that. But he handed it over and after I pumped up the front, I was maneuvering under the bike rack to do the back tire and he goes "oh, I need that back now." I hesitated. haha. What a clown, oh well I got the front one pumped up, better than nothing. I looked around and was taken aback at how many people looked like fancy pants super athletes. Usually there's a fair mix: crazy chiseled and professional folk all the way to the grandmother who decided to give-it-a-tri. However, there weren't any (obvious)grandmas and it was intimidating.
I finally made my way to the swim start. The announcer man who'd been rattling off little facts and tidbits all morning was the same guy from the worst-triathlon-in-the-world. When I heard his voice I cringed a little bit, but then remembered how right he was for the last one, so I gave him due credit. I was in wave 4 for the swim start. When I'm in a later Wave, I love/hate it: it gives me time to see how other people are doing and spectators aren't as enthusiastic about watching wave twenty-something.. but at the same time it adds an hour or so of anxiety and 'I HAVE TO PEE!' time. So the earlier wave was okay this time, the earlier you start the earlier you finish. Theoretically anyways. Sooner than I knew it I was thrashing about with SIXTY other women. Shudder. I hate the swim start. For the first five-ish minutes I think to myself 'There is no way this is going to thin out or get better. There is no way I can do this for a whole mile. This is ridiculous, I should just stop now.' My self defeating attitude is really getting old. I got kicked in the face and in the ribs and have weird bruises on the underside of my arm. My ribs still hurt when I breathe deep! RIDICULOUS. Lo and behold it did thin out and was okay for the most part. The route was weird: a triangle. This is bad because it means you have to look up to make sure you're 'on course' the whole time. Once I finally would get oriented to my straight line it seemed like the next buoy popped up and I'd have to make an awkward turn and get all discombobulated again. Oh well. I finished it and moved on.
The bike. Lordy Lordy. Wisconsin can be known in the Midwest to be hilly. People 'ski' in Wisconsin... Based on the bike leg of this race, I'd say the hilly label is accurate. I wasn't about to go strap on my ski's but it was significantly more incline than I've encountered since my last summer at home when I'd bike to the gym. The hills and the WIND really caught me off guard. I am so grateful for my fancy bike because I really used its functioning gears a lot! I can't figure one thing out: I think I'm in the highest gear possible, but then when going down hill there is a point where it feels like I'm 'free wheeling,' there's zero resistance.. but I can't shift UP anymore. Other people however, are able to find a higher gear on their bikes. I am torn between if it's the fact that I just don't have as many gears or if I am a moron and don't know which way to shift. That was the biggest frustration. I handled the climbs well, I like climbing to be honest, but the on the down hill I had to coast, I couldn't maximize on the advantage gravity was giving me. Hopefully I can figure that out before Chicago, because there are a lot of inclines in that race, too.
After paying EXTRA EXTRA close attention on the bike to ensure I did my two laps (no one will every accuse me of cheating again!) it was on to the run. The run was the worst run of my life! Oh my goodness. During the swim and bike I felt alright. Not awesome, but like I was holding my own. That all faded dramatically when it came time to run/jog/shuffle/limp/waddle. I remember after the Chicago race last year vowing to do more BRICK workouts so that my run wouldn't be as dismal. I have done ONE intentional BRICK since then. Whoops. It was REALLY hot by this point. During the whole bike there'd been clouds so it was CRAZY humid, but as soon as I left transition for the run, there wasn't a cloud in the sky so the sun just BEAT down the whole time. The course was weird, it seemed like it would never end. The first half was on a street but no spectators were allowed on it. There is a lot to be said for those that cheer. It boosts morale a lot. AND headphones are still not allowed in this fantastic sport so it was silent on the run aside from the thud-ing of feet and the gasping for air (to which I was a huge contributor). Dismal. And it's WISCONSIN so the scenery was far from awesome. I've failed to mention until now that this whole time I had to urinate. It's a serious problem. They preach at you to hydrate like a champ, but hellloooo then you have to pee every hour! To make it worse, there weren't ANY porta potties on the whole course, except for in transition, and even then they were really poorly located. So by the time I got to the run I thought I was going to throw up I had to pee so bad. For all you weak stomached individuals, I suggest you stop here. I definitely peed WHILE running. Thank you VERY MUCH. Disgusting? Of course? Dirty? Yes. RELIEVING TO NO END? MOST DEFINITELY. Omygosh I felt sooo much better once I let 'er rip. It really wasn't a conscious decision-- if it were that easy I would have done it ages ago. It just kind of happened and it was glorious in its repulsiveness. I was consistently throwing water on myself at the water stops so it wasn't ...toooo obvious. That's what I tell myself anyways. The run was just awful though I felt like I couldn't move and I couldn't breathe. It stretched on FOREVER and I kept thinking 'HA and you wanted to do a half IRONMAN?!' One way or another, though I finished it. The finish line is always good and bad. Good: you're done, people give you food and drink, you're done, you can breathe, you're done, etc. Bad: Everything tightens up ALL at once no matter what, you can barely stand up straight minus continue to walk, it is SOOO crowded by spectators, finishers, and volunteers-- we know how I feel about crowds, etc. But whatever, I was done. I got my cold towel, water, Gatorade, quarter of a bagel (budget cuts! HA!) and banana and started willing my feet to carry me back to transition to gather my stuff.

I got back to transition and really wasn't focusing well and couldn't make myself DO anything but stand there. I saw a man sitting on the curb behind the bike rack and I dubbed him a GENIUS and followed his example. I decided to finish my bagel and Gatorade, THEN pack up. This man started chatting (he's like 50 something with 4 kids, mom wipe that look off your face) and I looked at him cross eyed and smiled and nodded. He told me he'd done a half ironman earlier in the summer. "One and done," he said-- he didn't enjoy it and didn't plan on doing it again. "Same with a full marathon. One and done." I think I have to agree. While I still want to do a half ironman, I don't see myself doing them often. One. Maybe two. Then I'll stick with International triathlons and half marathons. Just because your body can be forced to run 26 miles or do other crazy things, doesn't mean it was really meant to. I'd rather have my body work for the rest of my life than do crazy long races for a few years then not be able to move. This man also said something that was soo appropriate: "You can't focus on the numbers, then it's not fun anymore. And if it's not fun, then you're in the wrong sport." ZING. Bring it home. I have been so focused on numbers and improving and all that statistical nonsense that it really hasn't been super fun the past month or so. I think he's right. I have to do it to have fun and let that be enough. While wanting to improve isn't bad, too much cookie dough will make you nauseous. That metaphor works for EVERYTHING.
That being said, I choose to keep my times to myself. They're really nothing to boast about and are almost EXACTLY the same as the Chicago race last year-- run and swim are within a few seconds. Except for the bike, that was dramatically better-- appropriately because I have a real bike. So I finally got under three hours and I will be content with that.
Yesterday I woke up and couldn't MOVE. My back was so sore I thought I'd been in a car wreck or something. It's upsetting. I did a short and easy swim yesterday hoping to get some lactic acid out, and today is a little better. I went to spinning this morning. I'm not a big fan of the instructor (she has a big 'I'm a badass' attitude and it's just obnoxious) but I heard her talking and she did the same race. I was about to say 'oh! me too!' but she launched into how awesome she did and I didn't dare interrupt. I'm forcing myself to run tonight even though my back still aches and my lungs don't really expand all the way (that kick in the ribs was extra brutal!) but I think my goal for the Chicago race (in less than two weeks!) will be to feel better about the run, so a run tonight is necessary.

I did take my camera with me but amidst the chaos in getting to the race and pure exhaustion afterwards, didn't snap a single photo. Whoops. We'll see if the event photos are posted soon.