Sunday, March 15, 2009

The Wildman Triathlon--March 14th, 2009




"If God invented marathons to keep people from doing anything more stupid, the triathlon must have taken Him completely by surprise." ~P.Z. Pearce
The alarm went off at 4:45. That's just insane. But we had to get up, have breakfast (what to eat? Someone said to eat what we normally have for breakfast. I don't know if that is the best approach. Something to ask Scott), get the bikes loaded and get out the door by 5:30.
Our bags were packed the night before with a long check-list of what to remember. But I was paranoid that I'd forgotten something.
The complete darkness of the morning took me by surprise. I was quite intimidated by it. We drove into the park and saw triathletes walking their bikes around and getting marked. We parked far away and walked towards the big lights, hoping we were going the right way. We ended up coming in the back entrance and missed where they were marking everyone.
We found our spot and started setting up. That is when we realized that we were way out of our league. We saw people laying out towels. Getting little pans of water to wash off their feet. Laying out their shoes. We saw someone "practicing" taking his socks off and on quickly. Us? I had a backpack with stuff. Kyle had his shoved in bags. We had practiced transitions but we had no idea how that would translate when you have 18 square inches of space next to your bike. We rigged up the best system we could figure out and reassured each other we'd be fine. We met a really nice guy who made us feel welcome and a real snob who made us feel stupid.
I was SO glad I was doing this with Kyle. We were figuring this out together. Talking to keep each other sane. Planning our strategy (if you can call it that). At one point, he turned to me and said "Thanks for getting me into this, Mom). For me, that was the highlight. It was his expression of love and gratitude, in his own 13-year-old way.
We were participating in the "My First Triathlon"--a special race especially for people like us. The only difference was that we had a shorter run (1/4 mile instead of 1/2 mile), a purple wristband to identify us as first timers and we got a medal (along with the kids).
Because of the My First Tri, we were waves three and four of the race--green and orange caps respectively. Luckily, the water was warm. But it was also the color of iced tea due to the tanic of the leaves around the lake. And as a result, it had a visibility of about 2 inches!
Robb, Eric and my good friend and "coach", Deb Costello, were there to cheer us on. I got big smooches from Robb. Eric made me promise I wouldn't die. And Deb gave me the advice to "enjoy the journey." Just the words I needed to help me with perspective. I realized that one year ago, I tried to run. I tried to just run around the block. I had to stop five times. And I had to stop five times for the next several weeks. Then I only had to stop three times. And by May, I could do it without stopping. Then in June I went a mile and a half. And in September I decided to do a Triathlon. Just ONE YEAR LATER, I was doing this. No minor accomplishment. It is that--the journey of this last year--that makes me so proud. Not that I was getting ready to start a triathlon. It was more that I could be considering it at all.
Meeting at the beach at 7:45. Waves 1 and 2 went off around 8 and 8:05. Then they moved in buoys for the shorter swim for us. The first men for the half mile were coming out before we even went INTO the water. Total studs.
Kyle went in first and my heart sunk. That was my baby. And I lost sight of him pretty quickly. I hoped he was okay and wasn't scared.




5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and my wave was off. As Deb coached, I counted "one, two, three" and let the others go first. Then I dove in. Arms, legs, torsos everywhere. Scott had said that the beginning is like swimming in a washing machine. Exactly. And I couldn't see the legs getting ready to kick me.
Quickly I realized that my training in the pool wasn't sufficient. I was doing freestyle. While my opposite-side breathing was automatic, when I turned my head for a breath, my mouth was still in water. I needed to lift it up to the side about 15 degrees more. I also was constantly looking up to see where the buoy was. After a couple of mouthfuls of water and straining my neck, it was easier to go to breast stroke. I tried to go back to freestyle after an interval, but it was exhausting.
I felt like I was going SO SLOWLY, but I was passing swimmers, even some of the men from the previous wave. And I couldn't worry about the time, I could just swim. I was on the way back to shore when I saw Kyle get out of the water and could relax a little. I was glad I knew where he was.
I stood up when I could touch the ground and ran out of the water, astonished at how tired my legs were (I NOW know that was a mistake as that made my legs more tired). Eric gave me my sandals, Deb told me that Kyle was about 2 minutes ahead of me and Robb took pictures. I tried to run to the transition area, but my legs were HEAVY!



Made it to the transition area. Kyle was sitting there getting all his gear on. He was using someone else's bucket to wash off his feet. I just pulled my sandals off and threw on my socks and shoes. I had given Eric a towel at the beach, but forgot to get it when I got out of the water. Oh well. I was ready to go, but Kyle was still struggling. He almost forgot his glasses. Then he got sand on them. I stopped and helped him out, finding something dry to clean them off for him. He told me to go, but I stayed and helped him. We came out of transition together. He had a mountain bike so started riding it and got yelled at. Me, my water bottle came out of the holder and I didn't notice until I was about to get on the bike. At which point I swore. Luckily, a guy came running up with it.

I asked Kyle if he wanted me to ride with him and he told me to go ahead and I did. I LOVE the bike ride. It's spiritual for me. Beautiful lake houses made the time go quickly. I tried to remember to hydrate. Made sure I watched for signs for turning. And I ate my jelly beans that were my tastier alternative to those icky gels for carb energy. I have to come up with another system for opening and eating those. Tricky to do while keeping your hands on the bike....
But mostly, I kept looking for places where I could check on Kyle. Towards the end, we had a long strip where we went down and came back--almost two miles. I was sure I'd see him. Surely he couldn't be THAT far behind me....but I didn't. When we came out, they were signalling for me to turn, but I stopped to wait for him. He was coming down the road. He yelled that he had stopped for someone who crashed. He was fine. I was relieved and could let the mother side of me go and continue as the cyclist.
I thought I was making good time, but I had no idea. My only way of keeping track of times and distances was through my iPhone, which I wasn't allowed to bring. I had no idea how much further I had to go and what my speed was. But I remember at one point thinking that I should think about backing off the speed because my legs would get too tired for the run.
Got back to the transition area and yelled to my cheering section that Kyle was about two miles behind. In transition, got my running shoes and my number. I also grabbed a bottle of water, because I was used to running with my water belt, which I had given to Kyle. Carrying the bottle was a mistake. Just a little water bottle, but it felt heavy.
My legs were lead. Dead weights. I got nervous. But just kept reminding myself to just run. Don't think. I actually don't remember much about that part of the race at all. After the first quarter mile or so, I started to feel like a normal run. At one point, there was a sign to go to the right, but some were going straight. I decided to follow the sign but found out that many had skipped the whole loop (including the woman who placed just ahead of me). The run was pretty--through the group camping area where there was a Boy Scout Jamboree. Through a NJROTC campout where teens were giving backrubs to each other (yeah, I know what that was about). Through the family camping area where I could see the tents, campers. Decided that I wanted to camp there. Some of the campers were triathletes who were already done and back at the site. Jerks.
I never stopped running, except for four steps at the second water stop because I had almost choked while trying to drink while running at the first. I knew that if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to start again. My other big sensation was the need to go to the bathroom. I thought of stopping at the camp bathroom, but that would take too much time. At the end of the run, I met Jane. She would walk a little, fall behind me then run a little and catch up. I also met a guy who was in his second Leukemia remission and way overweight, but there he was doing a triathlon. Impressive.
I heard cheering in the distance. I was CONVINCED that it was after 10:30 and that the awards ceremony had already started. So I was startled to get close to the finish and see everyone there. Every little bit of energy came out to run down the chute to the finish line. I raised my arms for the picture. Robb was there at the end with a hug, but I was even more glad to see the cold bottle of water, which I chugged. I barely noticed them taking off my transponder and handing me a medal (what about putting it around my neck, dudes?).

Then I just started rambling to Deb and Robb--about every little detail. About what surprised me. And how hard it was. I kept talking and talking. I forgot to turn around and wait for Kyle. Finally Robb said he was coming. There came my baby, lumbering down the chute, looking exhausted. He recovered, realized that there was pizza over at the pavilion and went over and ate FOUR PIECES (oh to be 13 with that metabolism).


I kept processing, we hung out, said goodbye to Robb who was off to a rocket launch and to Deb who was off to teach a seminar. We watched a little of the awards ceremony but then decided to head out. Kyle and I went over to the transition area to collect our mess of stuff. We loaded the bikes onto the truck. And just as I was closing the car door, I heard over the loud speaker "Kyle Haskins." He won an award. You've never seen two people who were so tired book our way over to the pavilion! He got first in his age group! And got a plaque. He was STOKED! That little plaque was just the killer touch. His mom had toasted his time but he got a plaque.
We headed to IHOP, his idea. He had FIVE pancakes (again that metabolism) and headed home. During lunch, Kyle said "That was the hardest thing I've ever done." He also said that he needed to train more. While I had trained 4-6 days a week, he barely did 1-2...and he knew that it showed. But he also started immediately talking about doing another one very soon. Surprisingly, so did Robb. It really inspired him. He swam as a kid. And he bikes almost everyday. He just needs to get running. But he got really excited about it.
We got home by 1pm. Barely afternoon. But we had accomplished more in that morning than anyone else we knew. We were sore. We were tired. We were triumphant.

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