The levels go as follows: super sprint (distances vary. Mine was 250 yd swim, 8 mile bike, and 2.25 run), sprint (again, distances vary, but most are around 400-600 yd swim, 12-16 mile bike, and 5k run), then olympic (distance is 0.9 mile swim, 25 mile bike, and 10k run), then half-ironman (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 half marathon run), and finally ironman (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 full marathon run.)
After typing out those other distances, it's hard for me not to feel deflated about my accomplishment. But I have to remember that I worked really, really hard to accomplish that measly ol' distance and I'm proud of it.
As was the case with the hare-brained idea of half marathons, Kara was actually the one that planted the thought in my head that I could do a tri. We decided we would attempt one together this summer. She'd done a few sprints pre-kids and her husband does them pretty frequently, so I felt good about having her coach me through the training and process. Of course, with her GB and then CIPD diagnoses, she won't be able to join me this year. But knowing she would give anything to be healthy enough to meant I had absolutely no excuse to whine or quit.
Towards the end of November, I decided that given my previous history with swimming, I had better start clocking some pool time. I made up my mind that I was going to go every Monday morning until April and then I would either decide I couldn't hack it OR I would begin going Mondays and Wednesdays. Knowing myself, I made it a one-time, non-negotiable decision. This was not going to be something I debated over every Sunday night. If I left it open for self-dialogue, I'd skip at the first sign of inconvenience. So, every Monday morning, the alarm went off at 5:25 and I would get dressed and drive over to the closest indoor aquatic center nearly 20 minutes away. Honestly, I'm nearly as proud of that commitment as I am of the race itself. Between late November and early April, I only missed four Mondays: one because David was out of town, one because they were closed, one because I was sick, and one because I was visiting Kara.
By early April, however, I realized I was not making good progress at all. It had become torturous for me to drag myself over there week after week and not see much improvement. But I knew I didn't want to throw in the (beach) towel until I'd tried everything, so I signed up for three private swim lessons at Swim Atlanta. Boy, was that the right call! After the first, I finally had hope that I'd be able to do the race after all and by the third lesson (with personal workouts in between), I'd swam the race distance without stopping. I was so pumped. But also extremely nervous because this meant I was going to do the tri!
I registered and kept plugging away at my training. Most plans call for you to squeeze in two workouts of each sport per week. It was not easy to spend 80 minutes on the road a week just getting to and from two swim workouts. I would usually swim Monday, bike or run on Tuesday, swim on Wednesday, bike or run on Thursday, and then do a bike plus run brick workout on Saturday. A week and a half before the big day, I did a trial at the aquatic center, which also had paths around that I could bike and run on. I knew I would feel so much more prepared and be able to relax a little if I went ahead and proved to myself that I could do it. It was tough and the transitions obviously weren't as smooth as they would be on race day, but as I expected, the mental mind games calmed down after I got it under my belt.
The week of the race finally came and it was a really busy one. I stressed about getting in enough workouts and whether I'd tapered too much (and by too much, I meant I was stressing over taking an extra rest day. CALM DOWN, NERVOUS NELLY.) I checked the forecast over and over again and in the days leading up to the race, the rain kept pouring down. How cold was that water going to be? Would I wipe out on the bike?! On top of all that, my cycle and hormones were a wreck too, which did not help physically or emotionally. I talked myself down and decided as long as the race was on, I was doing it. I'd obviously be wet from the swimming and I'd run half marathons in the rain, so as long as I could steady myself on the bike, it would be fine. I prayed for good weather and started my packing checklist (triathlons require a lot of gear!) When things are uncertain and stressful, this girl likes a list. :)
I woke up Saturday morning around 5am and put on my two-piece tri suit (basically a tight tank with a built-in sports bra and bicycle shorts with extra padding in the seat. SUPER flattering, but there's no time to change from a swimsuit.) I checked and double-checked that I had everything and then started the drive over to the location, which was about 45 minutes away. I packed a light breakfast and ate it when I got closer. Registration was set to begin at 6:30am and don't you know I was sitting in that parking lot by 6:20am ready to go like a newbie nerd.
Let me tell y'all the most unexpected thing that brought the biggest grin to my face: After checking in, they "body mark" you. That means they write your race number on both arms and your age on your calf. This is so they can keep tabs on you in the water since you don't wear a race bib and to easily identify you in the event of a medical emergency. Well, as soon as the volunteer finished putting numbers all over me, every bit of nervousness I had was replaced with excitement. It was official now. As short a distance as it was and slow as I would be, the day had finally come and I was about to do a triathlon. (And did I leave those numbers on my arms for two days after, even if they were hidden by sleeves? Yes. Yes I did. I figured I got to keep them for at least as long as my hiney was sore from the bike ride.)
All tatted up, I went over to the transition area and set up everything. I went over and over (and over) each step and what it would require (T1: Exit water. Remove swim cap and goggles. Run to transition barefoot. Flip bucket over and sit. Rinse and dry feet. Put on socks and shoes. Put on helmet. Drink water. Cue up phone. Calm heart rate. Push bike to line. Mount and pedal. T2: Dismount. Push bike up to rack. Rack bike. Remove helmet. Drink water. Clip on hydration belt. Pin on bib. Cue up running app. Eat GU gel as you run out. Breathe.) Shew. See why I reviewed it so many times?!
I chatted and joked around with several people near me. I was put at ease that most of them were as new to this as I was. There were a couple folks that had done other races, and I clung to their tidbits of advice like it was Gospel Truth. One woman seemed especially knowledgable and I asked her how many she'd done. Turns out her very first had been three weeks prior. I decided to ease her off the pedestal. After having someone snap my picture and checking everything just one more time, I knew I was as ready as I'd ever be and made my way over to the pool.
They had two start waves for the swim, 7:30am and 8am, and you got to choose which one you wanted to do. I had planned on doing the later and didn't want to go early since David and the kids were going to meet me on the bike course based on that time. I sat on the side and talked to a woman whose teenager was doing his first triathlon. We watched the swimmers - some expert, some looking like they had never been in a pool before - snake up and down the lanes. I was suddenly very, very grateful for my training.
A few minutes before 8am, I realized I had better go ahead and get in line. I joined the end and talked to a sweet woman who had done a couple before and whose husband had done ironman races before. She urged me to go in front of her, assuring me that she was very slow and would never catch me. (Hold that thought.) I got in the water and watched for my cue to begin. Blissfully, the water was quite warm. I was ridiculously glad about that! At the volunteer's cue, I pushed underwater and began. It took me a couple of laps to find my pace and I was feeling pretty good...until I glanced behind me and saw the lady that urged me to go first was catching me! Worried that she wouldn't feel the freedom to pass me, I sped up a bit. I finished and pushed myself up out of the water. I trotted across the tennis courts to the transition area. One leg down, two to go.
I made a rookie mistake and rushed through my transition too quickly. I had a hard time fiddling with my phone and crossing the start line. After about .25 miles, I pulled over and took 45 seconds to get myself together. Most people do not bike with phones/headphones so they don't have to mess with them. I probably shouldn't either, but I just use one ear and keep it down low. I mainly use it for distance and speed updates. Anyway, after I finally got everything under control, I started back. It was such a small race and we were so spread out that most people I saw were on their way back in. One lady and I passed each other a couple of times, but other than that, I was solo. Every intersection had a police officer and every turn was very clearly marked, which I was so thankful for. I kept wondering when I would see David and the kids and the thought pushed me harder. (As did coming up on intersections where the cop was holding traffic for me. I yelled out to one "Well if you're going to make them wait, I guess I better take it up a notch!" He laughed and yelled back, "No worries. I'll be here all morning!")
Finally, I saw David and the kids off in the distance. Immediately I started tearing up. I know it sounds so silly, but it meant the world that they got to see me in action after all the hard work I'd put in. I distinctly remember back in January walking in the house after a tough swim workout just as Audrey was telling Luke, "Yeah, buddy! Because Mommy is going to do a triathlon!" I knew then that I had no choice. To see them watch me realize this goal was so special. Of course, them seeing me miss a turn? Not quite as special.
Yup. I was so distracted that I drove right past my turn. Suddenly I hear David yelling "Hon! HEATHER! This way!" and the cop echoing his instructions. I slammed on my (extremely noisy) brakes. I was now in the middle of the intersection while the cop tried to stop a car he'd just motioned through the stop sign and I attempted to turn around. David told me later he thought "Welp. This is it. That car is going to take her out and the kids are going to witness their mother's death right here." Once everyone realized I was safe and I got headed in the right direction, I apologized to the officer and pedaled by the kids again. David and I caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. Oh me!
With that hilarious detour fresh on my mind, I climbed the toughest hill on the course fairly easily. At the top, David and the kids passed me in the car on their way to park near the running course. I managed to make it the rest of the way without any wrong turns. There was one section where traffic had backed up and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go far to the right because there wasn't a shoulder. I knew better than to go down the middle of the road. I heard myself say "I can't do this" and slow down. To which some other part of me answered, "YES. You can. Do NOT stop." I hugged the right side as best I could until I got through the thickest part of the back-up and the police officer saw me. He stopped the cars so I could turn onto the next road and I pedaled my heart out to the transition area.
The bike rack had gotten very full with a ton of kids' bikes that had been set up for their triathlon that started after the adults'. I couldn't get my bike in until some nice gentleman had pity on me and walked over to offer a hand. I thanked him profusely and then clipped on my hydration belt, pinned my bib, and took off with a GU gel in hand. Two legs down and I was in my wheelhouse now: the run.
I passed David and the kids right after the transition area, which surprised them because I was earlier than they expected. The kids looked so cute holding the little signs they made for me. (I may have bought the poster board and implicitly told David to have them make them...no shame.) I had a cramp in my side for nearly the first mile, but that's where my long distance training kicked in. Back in the day that would've been enough to make me stop, but after training for and running five half marathons, I'd let myself pass out before I would stop for a cramp.
I paced myself and tried to really enjoy the view and the moment. I was doing this. In fact, I was almost done! Towards the end of the run, I saw the woman that had passed me on the bike. I couldn't let her beat me at the run, too! I picked up my speed a little and gave her an encouraging "You've got this!" as I ran past. I rounded the corner and volunteers clapped and cheered, assuring me I was almost there. I took it up just a little, because just a little was all I had left, and I saw David and the kids cheering as I ran across the finish line. One volunteer took my bib tear-off while another hung the finisher's medal around my neck.
I'd made it.
There really aren't any words to describe that feeling of completion and accomplishment. David and the kids caught up to me and offered their congratulations. I was still in disbelief that it was over. All those months of training. All those stupid 6am swims. All those awful hills on the bike. All the running after biking when I felt like I was going to throw up. All of it had been worth it for that very moment.
We took a few pictures and then went back to the transition area to grab my bike and clean up. After that we took a few more pictures. :) I changed into dry clothes while David, Audrey, and Luke went down to the pool to watch the kids' triathlon swim. We sat for a while and then decided it was time to leave. I told David that I was going to head back to the finish line to see if the results were up. I joked that maybe I'd place by default if there were only three women in my age group! I kissed them all goodbye as they got into David's car and headed to a friends' birthday party (if ever I'd earned a skip, it was that day!) I made my way back over to the finish line and tried to slyly glance at the finisher's board. It took several cycles through the results before I could believe it: I'd placed second out of six. WHA?! I hung around to get my medal and tried to keep my goofy smile in check. When they called my name, several of the folks I'd chatted with earlier very sweetly congratulated me. I'd placed. I couldn't believe it. Some say second place is the first loser, but I say I'm the next winner. :)
On the way home I called David and told him and the kids the news. They were as surprised as I had been! Kara called me and left a voicemail, so I called her back and filled her in on the whole race. She was so happy for me and I thanked her for all of the coaching, encouragement, and inspiration. After we finished talking (and we'd both managed to stop laughing about my wrong turn), I stopped and got breakfast at one of my favorite local spots near our old house since I was in the area. When I got home, I took a luxurious shower and then sat on the back deck with my two medals around my neck like a goob. David and the kids came home about an hour later and I let them check out the medals before we all took naps. Later we went out for a celebratory dinner. (Audrey wanted me to wear my medals then too, but I didn't.) I curled up in bed that night with a chocolate dessert cup from Publix and felt very, very satisfied.
I can't believe it's over. Admittedly I am proud of myself, but more than that, I am so thankful. I am thankful for the health and ability to do something like that, especially when I've had such a blatant recent reminder about how fragile and precious good health can be. I'm also grateful for the lessons that I hope my kids learned from my example: With God, all things are possible...including getting back on track after missing your turn. :)
The week of the race finally came and it was a really busy one. I stressed about getting in enough workouts and whether I'd tapered too much (and by too much, I meant I was stressing over taking an extra rest day. CALM DOWN, NERVOUS NELLY.) I checked the forecast over and over again and in the days leading up to the race, the rain kept pouring down. How cold was that water going to be? Would I wipe out on the bike?! On top of all that, my cycle and hormones were a wreck too, which did not help physically or emotionally. I talked myself down and decided as long as the race was on, I was doing it. I'd obviously be wet from the swimming and I'd run half marathons in the rain, so as long as I could steady myself on the bike, it would be fine. I prayed for good weather and started my packing checklist (triathlons require a lot of gear!) When things are uncertain and stressful, this girl likes a list. :)
I woke up Saturday morning around 5am and put on my two-piece tri suit (basically a tight tank with a built-in sports bra and bicycle shorts with extra padding in the seat. SUPER flattering, but there's no time to change from a swimsuit.) I checked and double-checked that I had everything and then started the drive over to the location, which was about 45 minutes away. I packed a light breakfast and ate it when I got closer. Registration was set to begin at 6:30am and don't you know I was sitting in that parking lot by 6:20am ready to go like a newbie nerd.
Let me tell y'all the most unexpected thing that brought the biggest grin to my face: After checking in, they "body mark" you. That means they write your race number on both arms and your age on your calf. This is so they can keep tabs on you in the water since you don't wear a race bib and to easily identify you in the event of a medical emergency. Well, as soon as the volunteer finished putting numbers all over me, every bit of nervousness I had was replaced with excitement. It was official now. As short a distance as it was and slow as I would be, the day had finally come and I was about to do a triathlon. (And did I leave those numbers on my arms for two days after, even if they were hidden by sleeves? Yes. Yes I did. I figured I got to keep them for at least as long as my hiney was sore from the bike ride.)
All tatted up, I went over to the transition area and set up everything. I went over and over (and over) each step and what it would require (T1: Exit water. Remove swim cap and goggles. Run to transition barefoot. Flip bucket over and sit. Rinse and dry feet. Put on socks and shoes. Put on helmet. Drink water. Cue up phone. Calm heart rate. Push bike to line. Mount and pedal. T2: Dismount. Push bike up to rack. Rack bike. Remove helmet. Drink water. Clip on hydration belt. Pin on bib. Cue up running app. Eat GU gel as you run out. Breathe.) Shew. See why I reviewed it so many times?!
I chatted and joked around with several people near me. I was put at ease that most of them were as new to this as I was. There were a couple folks that had done other races, and I clung to their tidbits of advice like it was Gospel Truth. One woman seemed especially knowledgable and I asked her how many she'd done. Turns out her very first had been three weeks prior. I decided to ease her off the pedestal. After having someone snap my picture and checking everything just one more time, I knew I was as ready as I'd ever be and made my way over to the pool.
They had two start waves for the swim, 7:30am and 8am, and you got to choose which one you wanted to do. I had planned on doing the later and didn't want to go early since David and the kids were going to meet me on the bike course based on that time. I sat on the side and talked to a woman whose teenager was doing his first triathlon. We watched the swimmers - some expert, some looking like they had never been in a pool before - snake up and down the lanes. I was suddenly very, very grateful for my training.
A few minutes before 8am, I realized I had better go ahead and get in line. I joined the end and talked to a sweet woman who had done a couple before and whose husband had done ironman races before. She urged me to go in front of her, assuring me that she was very slow and would never catch me. (Hold that thought.) I got in the water and watched for my cue to begin. Blissfully, the water was quite warm. I was ridiculously glad about that! At the volunteer's cue, I pushed underwater and began. It took me a couple of laps to find my pace and I was feeling pretty good...until I glanced behind me and saw the lady that urged me to go first was catching me! Worried that she wouldn't feel the freedom to pass me, I sped up a bit. I finished and pushed myself up out of the water. I trotted across the tennis courts to the transition area. One leg down, two to go.
I made a rookie mistake and rushed through my transition too quickly. I had a hard time fiddling with my phone and crossing the start line. After about .25 miles, I pulled over and took 45 seconds to get myself together. Most people do not bike with phones/headphones so they don't have to mess with them. I probably shouldn't either, but I just use one ear and keep it down low. I mainly use it for distance and speed updates. Anyway, after I finally got everything under control, I started back. It was such a small race and we were so spread out that most people I saw were on their way back in. One lady and I passed each other a couple of times, but other than that, I was solo. Every intersection had a police officer and every turn was very clearly marked, which I was so thankful for. I kept wondering when I would see David and the kids and the thought pushed me harder. (As did coming up on intersections where the cop was holding traffic for me. I yelled out to one "Well if you're going to make them wait, I guess I better take it up a notch!" He laughed and yelled back, "No worries. I'll be here all morning!")
Finally, I saw David and the kids off in the distance. Immediately I started tearing up. I know it sounds so silly, but it meant the world that they got to see me in action after all the hard work I'd put in. I distinctly remember back in January walking in the house after a tough swim workout just as Audrey was telling Luke, "Yeah, buddy! Because Mommy is going to do a triathlon!" I knew then that I had no choice. To see them watch me realize this goal was so special. Of course, them seeing me miss a turn? Not quite as special.
Yup. I was so distracted that I drove right past my turn. Suddenly I hear David yelling "Hon! HEATHER! This way!" and the cop echoing his instructions. I slammed on my (extremely noisy) brakes. I was now in the middle of the intersection while the cop tried to stop a car he'd just motioned through the stop sign and I attempted to turn around. David told me later he thought "Welp. This is it. That car is going to take her out and the kids are going to witness their mother's death right here." Once everyone realized I was safe and I got headed in the right direction, I apologized to the officer and pedaled by the kids again. David and I caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. Oh me!
With that hilarious detour fresh on my mind, I climbed the toughest hill on the course fairly easily. At the top, David and the kids passed me in the car on their way to park near the running course. I managed to make it the rest of the way without any wrong turns. There was one section where traffic had backed up and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go far to the right because there wasn't a shoulder. I knew better than to go down the middle of the road. I heard myself say "I can't do this" and slow down. To which some other part of me answered, "YES. You can. Do NOT stop." I hugged the right side as best I could until I got through the thickest part of the back-up and the police officer saw me. He stopped the cars so I could turn onto the next road and I pedaled my heart out to the transition area.
The bike rack had gotten very full with a ton of kids' bikes that had been set up for their triathlon that started after the adults'. I couldn't get my bike in until some nice gentleman had pity on me and walked over to offer a hand. I thanked him profusely and then clipped on my hydration belt, pinned my bib, and took off with a GU gel in hand. Two legs down and I was in my wheelhouse now: the run.
I passed David and the kids right after the transition area, which surprised them because I was earlier than they expected. The kids looked so cute holding the little signs they made for me. (I may have bought the poster board and implicitly told David to have them make them...no shame.) I had a cramp in my side for nearly the first mile, but that's where my long distance training kicked in. Back in the day that would've been enough to make me stop, but after training for and running five half marathons, I'd let myself pass out before I would stop for a cramp.
I paced myself and tried to really enjoy the view and the moment. I was doing this. In fact, I was almost done! Towards the end of the run, I saw the woman that had passed me on the bike. I couldn't let her beat me at the run, too! I picked up my speed a little and gave her an encouraging "You've got this!" as I ran past. I rounded the corner and volunteers clapped and cheered, assuring me I was almost there. I took it up just a little, because just a little was all I had left, and I saw David and the kids cheering as I ran across the finish line. One volunteer took my bib tear-off while another hung the finisher's medal around my neck.
I'd made it.
There really aren't any words to describe that feeling of completion and accomplishment. David and the kids caught up to me and offered their congratulations. I was still in disbelief that it was over. All those months of training. All those stupid 6am swims. All those awful hills on the bike. All the running after biking when I felt like I was going to throw up. All of it had been worth it for that very moment.
We took a few pictures and then went back to the transition area to grab my bike and clean up. After that we took a few more pictures. :) I changed into dry clothes while David, Audrey, and Luke went down to the pool to watch the kids' triathlon swim. We sat for a while and then decided it was time to leave. I told David that I was going to head back to the finish line to see if the results were up. I joked that maybe I'd place by default if there were only three women in my age group! I kissed them all goodbye as they got into David's car and headed to a friends' birthday party (if ever I'd earned a skip, it was that day!) I made my way back over to the finish line and tried to slyly glance at the finisher's board. It took several cycles through the results before I could believe it: I'd placed second out of six. WHA?! I hung around to get my medal and tried to keep my goofy smile in check. When they called my name, several of the folks I'd chatted with earlier very sweetly congratulated me. I'd placed. I couldn't believe it. Some say second place is the first loser, but I say I'm the next winner. :)
On the way home I called David and told him and the kids the news. They were as surprised as I had been! Kara called me and left a voicemail, so I called her back and filled her in on the whole race. She was so happy for me and I thanked her for all of the coaching, encouragement, and inspiration. After we finished talking (and we'd both managed to stop laughing about my wrong turn), I stopped and got breakfast at one of my favorite local spots near our old house since I was in the area. When I got home, I took a luxurious shower and then sat on the back deck with my two medals around my neck like a goob. David and the kids came home about an hour later and I let them check out the medals before we all took naps. Later we went out for a celebratory dinner. (Audrey wanted me to wear my medals then too, but I didn't.) I curled up in bed that night with a chocolate dessert cup from Publix and felt very, very satisfied.
I can't believe it's over. Admittedly I am proud of myself, but more than that, I am so thankful. I am thankful for the health and ability to do something like that, especially when I've had such a blatant recent reminder about how fragile and precious good health can be. I'm also grateful for the lessons that I hope my kids learned from my example: With God, all things are possible...including getting back on track after missing your turn. :)
