My first race report

The race day begins with a wake up call at 4:30am. Wow that's early. Really early to get up and go race people.

I was really undecided about what to wear. You see, I picked a December race hoping it would be cool weather because Lord knows I sweat a lot and definitely didn’t want to swelter in 80 degree weather. That’s for crazy-folk.

Guess what. We had a record-breaking heat wave. The temperature rose from a low of 41 to a high in the 80s. FAN-tastic.

Anyway, back to the morning. I decided to pack up several outfits. I was set on wearing my running tights because as I’ve said before, Spandex feels awesome. I also opted for an Under Armor shirt that together with the tights would magically transform to a swimsuit. On top of that I had a moisture wicking green shirt and a jacket for the cool morning. Little did I know that that air was going to be so dry that there would be no moisture to be wicked.

Lori and Jane rang my doorbell at 5:30am and I opened my door to a video camera and a big balloon. These girls know how to party at the crack of dawn on a Sunday! We all loaded in my car and set off for a one and a half hour commute through the mountains to a town called Hemet. Not many people go to Hemet and now I know why. It's hot in the summer and apparently in the winter too. Hot and mostly flat.

The race is held at a high school. There were people milling about in all sorts of different holiday costumes. It actually was quite festive. Having never done this before, I wasn’t sure what a strategic spot would be to rack my gear in the transition area, so I picked a place I could remember: in the back near an end. By the time everyone’s gear was there, it would be like a game of Where’s Waldo to find your stuff in the middle. One astute competitor brought a helium balloon and tied it to his spot. I thought that was ingenious, but the race volunteers did not. They made him take it away. Dang straight buddy! No cheating!

It was about 30 minutes before the race when my good friend Tammy joined us after making that long drive to come cheer me on. It was also about this time that I got nervous. Like really nervous. I realized that I hadn’t been nervous all these long months that I was training and now I was thinking:

“What exactly am I doing here again?”

“Why do my legs feel like they are full of lead mixed with jelly?”

It became painfully obvious that I was about to embark on probably one of the most physically challenging endeavors of my adult life and now that three people had devoted their Sundays to cheering me on, there is no way I could back out now and disappoint them.

Doh.

About 10 minutes before race time, the announcer asked us to go down and assemble for the run. This is where I started to seriously assess my competition. There were quite a few people who looked like they took these races as serious business. There were others who looked like this was a fun recreational hobby, but they would still leave me in the dust. Then there were those who had one affliction or another where I made the mistake of thinking “Heh, yeah I could probably take him/her on.”

Case in point: the Lady on Crutches with One Leg. I pointed her out to Tammy. On one hand, I instantly felt inspired by this woman who obviously would not take her limitations to heart. She didn’t even have a prosthetic leg. She had crutches. Crutches! Like the kind that rub your underarms raw. But, apparently her forearms were made of steel because once the race started, she took off and I never saw her again. So yeah, I was beat by a woman with three limbs. I was also outraced by a grandmother who was probably in her 70s. I thought she was there showing support for a family member until the race horn went off and she took off running with an 8-minute mile pace. Also, she could have been 80.

I’m not ashamed. I was inspired by all of these people.

Within the first 5 minutes of running I got a side cramp. I haven’t had a side cramp in months of training. I couldn’t believe I would get one today of all days and it would remain for most all of the race. I was worried about all things ranging from knee pain to muscle fatigue to blisters, but no, I end up with a side stitch.

I tried to stay strong for the first mile and a half. But then it was getting so hot. I kept seeing a mirage of a water station, but that didn’t happen until we were about 75% of the way done and when I got there, they were out of water. Figures. How could that be? I started to panic just a little because my mouth was so dry and the air was getting so warm. My body that normally sweats a quart of water at the drop of a hat was clamming up. I started to get goosebumps. Not good. Not good at all. I’ve had this happen to me before and it can only end badly. I then thought about how much finishing the race meant to me and it wasn’t so much about time as it was about finishing, so I started walking more. I also hoped that it would help my side cramp (which it didn’t).

It was right around this time that a lady named Chey jogged up next to me as I walked. She was jogging very slow, as I just mentioned that I was walking. She said “I’ve been trying to catch up to you because I love the pretty green shirt you’re wearing.”

And that began our little race friendship. She jogged along side of me as I walked/jogged to the finish. We talked about why we were racing and where we liked to train. It actually made the rest of the run enjoyable and I all but forgot that I was suffering from heat stroke.

Once we got to the transition area it was time for a wardrobe change. Off with the green long sleeves and on with the short sleeve jersey... and socks… and bike shoes… and helmet… and gloves… and lip balm… and yeah I really need to work on my transitions. Chey was already on her way, so I hustled to get out on the road. It felt so nice to have liquid and a breeze! I was also able to suck down 2 Gu packets now that I had saliva again.

The bike ride was wonderful. It was fairly scenic at the base of some foothills through mostly open land. Since most everyone had passed me on the run, they were now passing me going the other way on the bike. I could have stuck out my hand for a continual high five. With my legs working better for me on wheels than on land, I was able to make up some time and pass a few people. I made sure to tell each person I passed what a great job they were doing and to keep up the great work. Basically what I would have wanted to hear as someone rode past.

The last 3 miles of the ride were the hardest. My feet were numb (this is normal for me) and I had a stomachache from the 2 blackberry Gu’s and the grape Gatorade I inhaled. I also managed to get a charlie horse in my right calf, likely due to the dehydration I endured on the run. I wasn’t about to stop, so I tried beating the back of my calf with my water bottle. This only worked in part and probably just made me look retarded.

About this time I passed this guy on a unicycle.
Thank GOD… I mean with getting beat by a grandma and a one-legged woman, I needed some sort of boost. Getting aced out by a unicycle would not have helped.

Once off my bike in the transition area, I quickly realized that my legs no longer worked. Everyone around me had already completed the swim and were lollygagging near their gear talking about the race with their buddies. I was struggling like an old person with a walker to re-rack my bike. The bottoms of my feet were so cramped that they would not flatten out. I have never experienced this phenomenon in my life and I have gone on much longer bike rides than 12 miles. I managed to get off my shoes and gear and start heading to the pool. Each step was like a teeny tiny charlie horse erupting in my instep. I can’t wait to see footage of myself in Lori’s video.

The pool area was fairly crowded and all that stood between me and a finsher’s medal were 150 short yards in the pool. Oh yeah, did I mention that when I arrived at my transition area I found my goggles broken in half? Was it the work of a saboteur or just bad luck? I’m thinking the latter. So, I was going to have to do this with my own bare eyes.

The water felt niiiiiiiice. It if wasn’t so heavily chlorinated, I would have liked to drink some. I think I secretly did drink some. I started out freestyle, but realized that without goggles, backstroke was my best bet. I have no idea how long I was in the pool, but as soon as I caught a glimpse of the clock and I was still in reach of my goal of 1:59, I swam as hard as I could. I stepped onto the mat at 1:57:47.

I did it!

When we finally hobbled back to my car, and by we I mean me, Jane surprised me with a champagne toast! So, whilst dodging the roving police officers, we managed to celebrate the success of a very fun day!

The stats:
Run: 0:38:55
Bike: 1:10:53
Swim: 0:08:33
Total: 1:58:21

My goal time was 1:59, which I beat, but I'm slightly disappointed that the time shown on the website is different than the one on the card they handed to me after the race. That said 1:57:47, so I'm going with that!

My transitions are what killed me. That is reflected in the 1:10 for the bike because that included getting ready for the bike and then getting ready for the swim. The 8 minute swim was also longer due to the fact that no one in the pool area could direct us as to what we were supposed to do! Chey and I were literally yelling for a volunteer to direct us on where we were supposed to swim and who was collecting our pool tags. So, all in all, I probably could have saved 10 minutes by just being faster in transition.

Things I'm glad I did:

1. Waited in the long, long line for the porta-potty before the race started.

2. Brought several wardrobes-worth of clothes for all weather scenarios.

3. Taped Gu packets to my bike frame that I could easily grab and eat.

4. Changed socks when I changed from running to bike shoes... hot feet!

5. Wore flip flops to the swim instead of walking barefoot on the gravelly parking lot.

Things I should have done:

1. Brought a second pair of goggles!

2. Apparently carried a water bottle on the run.

3. Checked to make sure I had properly opened the packaging on my Sport Beans, before riding my bike. I hadn't and therefore couldn't get the package open while riding.

4. Not stressed so much beforehand because I did fine!

As a takeaway, this was a brilliant quote I lifted from someone's signature on BeginnerTriathlete.com

"Remember DFL>DNF>DNS>DNT"

Which says, "Dead #&@* Last is better than Did Not Finish is better than Did Not Start is better than Did Not Try"