From the beginning, I was obsessed. This probably didn’t come as a big surprise to anyone who knows me: I love to have a project, and when I do my ability to focus on it is pretty intense. This seemed to make me well suited to the triathlon world, or at least in good company.
I started running when I was a freshman in college and joined the women’s rugby team. My first three mile run to the practice field alongside ex-varsity soccer players was painful, to say the least. I barely made it. By the time I graduated though I was a decent runner, and completed the New York Marathon a year and a half later in just under four and a half hours.
I continued to run through my twenties, miserably completing an unexpectedly warm San Francisco Marathon with my husband a year after we married. I was disappointed with my 5 hour finish, and always thought in the back of my mind that I would do another marathon post-kids and gain redemption there. After three kids and many years off I did start running again, but found that I just didn’t have it in me to pull off a marathon. Even though I’d managed to improve my pace through interval training, running had become much more difficult mentally and the annual Army 10-Miler was absolutely the longest distance I could envision.
I had grown up swimming, and my summer swim league was one of my greatest childhood memories. I’d also been taking spin classes for years and loved them. So I decided if a marathon was out, then a triathlon by 40 was the new goal. But my kids were still little and I didn’t have time to train yet, so for a while it was simply a goal.
By summer 2009 I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d been talking to two friends who’d recently taken up triathlons and got more and more excited with each conversation. So July 2009, my 38th birthday, I bit the bullet and bought a bike. I spent the rest of the summer getting comfortable on my bike, having more conversations, and gearing up mentally. January 2010 was going to be the big kick-off.
My obsession found root in December 2009, when I bought Joel Friel’s “Triathlon Training Bible” to find my workout plan. I pored over every page, highlighting important passages, but didn’t realize until many chapters in that I was way over my head with this book. By the time I figured it out though, I decided that I might as well just see it through so I used his methodology to map out a training plan for the year. I had already scoped out local races, and slotted those into the schedule as well.
On January 4th, my official kick-off, the real obsession began. I was obsessed with my race calendar, and making sure to sign up before races sold out (which many of them did, in just hours). I was obsessed with researching and buying the gear: tri suits, transition bags, a wetsuit. Most of all, I was obsessed with my training calendar. I had put together an elaborate set of spreadsheets that mapped out my schedule and tracked my progress, and making sure that the chart mapping my totals showed that I had hit my target hours for the week was paramount. All of these obsessions, though, were key to getting me through my six workouts a week, which was a massive change from my two- to three-a-week schedule previously. And they did - I even kept on schedule during DC’s Snowmageddon in February, which was no small feat (thank goodness for 4-wheel drive!).
All of this led up to my first tri: the Kinetic Sprint on May 9th (Mother’s Day, go figure) in Lake Anna, VA. The closer it got, the more nervous I was: I’d been training, and obsessing, and training, and obsessing for four months and at times had almost forgotten that the whole point was actually the race, not the training. I felt confident about the swim and the bike, but was worried that the run would be my downfall, that mentally I wouldn’t be able to push through. Then I would think about my training, about how I could now knock out 6 miles without blinking, and remind myself that there was no way I wasn’t prepared.
Race morning was all butterflies. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat much, and was happy to have a friend for distraction on the drive down. The setup was a little overwhelming: a lot to see, a lot to take in, a lot to do to get ready, and everywhere I looked there were incredibly fit people walking around with tons of confidence. It was chilly - sunny but in the low 50s and windy, and I was trying to figure out when I would need extra layers, and how long to wait before ditching my sweats for my sleeveless wetsuit. When I finally did suit up, though, everything started to go very quickly.
My wave, the novice wave, was the last to go - 24 minutes after the official start. While I was waiting, all I could think was that this was really it, after all the training and obsessing and talking about it I was actually about to run into a lake and do a tri. And I was excited. Really, really excited.
The swim was more disconcerting than I expected. The water was very choppy from the wind, and it was difficult to get a clean breath. Plus I had no experience sighting, and found myself pausing periodically to get my bearings and stay on track. Eventually I found my stroke, though, and started to feel strong. It definitely helped my confidence when I realized I’d caught up to the tail end of the wave in front of me. I felt good when I made it to the beach, pleased with my swim, and ran to transition with maybe one or two other red novice swim caps around me.
I’d started to think through the first transition at the end of the swim, and focused on getting out of my wetsuit as quickly as possible. I grabbed my long-sleeve, zip-front cycling jersey that I’d bought just days before (good call), but decided to pass on the socks since my feet were so wet (not such a good call).
The bike leg started off with a few hiccups. I have covers for the clips on my shoes, and had taken one off but not the other - a clear rookie mistake. Five yards into the course I had to stop and clumsily wrench the thing off; I flung it off the course, where a really nice spectator offered to return it to my transition area. Fifty yards later I stopped again, hearing a clicking noise and concerned that my bike computer chip was the problem. Finally I started up again, and was immediately frustrated by the congestion on the course; people were riding three wide and I couldn’t pass without going over the yellow line, which I feared would get me DQ’d. Finally at the first turn I went way inside and broke through, finding some open road and hitting pace. I spent the next 16 miles or so gaining ground on the field, and was pleased that my strength in my training rides had in fact translated to the race. I was less pleased that somewhere around mile 8 of the 18 mile course my feet had gone numb. I had no sense that they were cold, but now they were just two bricks at the bottom of my legs.
My second transition was slow, probably because my numb feet just didn’t want to get into my shoes. And despite a wicked calf cramp I made it out and onto the run course.
The run started with a hill, and my legs were not happy. I trudged up the thing, immediately lowering my already low expectations for the run. But once the course leveled out I found my stride and to my surprise actually passed a few people. Even more to my surprise, I was holding my own on the run - I was completely expecting to lose much of the ground I gained on the bike during the run, but it didn’t seem to be the case. At the two mile marker, I realized two important things: First, that I could finally feel my feet again. Second, that I was running well, and if I could hold on for another mile I would be extremely happy with my race, no matter my time.
I hoped to cross the finish with the clock (unadjusted for my wave) reading 2:20 or less. I crossed at 2:07 and immediately asked several people if it was adjusted for something or just plain wrong. I couldn’t believe it! My goal was 1:50-55, and I finished in 1:43:56, 46th overall (women) and an astonishing first in the novice women’s category. After decades of being a mediocre runner, I was finally good at something!
I still have a lot to learn about the sport, and a lot of ways in which I can improve. But I had more fun doing the tri than in any running race I can remember, and I know that I’m hooked.
Swim (750m): 13:23; Rank: 23 overall, 2 novice
T1: 2:00; Rank: 23 overall, 1 novice
Bike (18mi): 59:21; Rank: 57 overall, 1 novice
T2: 1:21; Rank: 114 overall, 17 novice
Run (5k): 27:53; Rank: 83 overall, 11 novice