Normally, I write about a race as soon as I can after, so as not to lose the details. This time, I wanted to have time to reflect on what happened first.
Going into this race, I knew I could do the individual distances, but putting all three together on the same day...I wasn't too sure about that. Still, my coach seemed to be sure, and since he knew what he was talking about for every other race, I decided to believe him.
Shortly after Wally's Tri, something happened that caused me to have anxiety, especially about the water. I know, who would have guessed this fish would become afraid of the water? A week before the Half, I wasn't even sure I was going to do the race because of it. It was only the support of the people around me that motivated me to at least try. Besides, I wasn't going to throw away nine months of training without a good fight.
Race day dawned rainy and slightly chilly. SPI Tri 2.0 I thought. There was a flurry of activity as Farrah and I went from one transition to the next, getting our stations ready. During that time the rain stopped, and the announcer said we would be starting on time. Farrah and I made it down to the starting chute, and that's when the anxiety hit. The waves were marked by swim cap, and we were blue (the guys behind us were pink, I think the organizers did that for fun)
You can't ask for a calmer, more positive person to be around than Farrah. She simply radiates warm fuzzies. As our wave moved closer to the water, she reminded me of words I had told her to help her get over her fear: Fear is in our minds, we create it and so we can control it. Funny how your own words come back to you. Breathe and focus...Once we entered the water, we had two minutes before our cannon would go off. I reached out to Farrah for one last hug before the start. And then it began.
I usually need about 400 m to find my stride. This generally works out well since that distance is generally pretty chaotic in the beginning. Move here, dodge there, as the mass of bodies work toward the same goal. When I got to the 400 m buoy, I had a full out panic attack. I came up to sight and couldn't see the course. I had over rotated and turned myself sideways. Getting myself back on track, I seriously considered quitting. Just keep swimming while you think about it, I thought. You can always get picked up later. So I started thinking about why I should keep going. I already paid for it, I already trained for it, but most importantly, there will be a girl at the end of this race who will learn from her mother what it is to stick to a goal. Okay, one buoy at a time, and try not to completely melt down.
I have never been so timid in the water. When I hit 1600 m, as I sighted I took a quick glance at my watch. I should have done it earlier. When I saw how far behind pace I was, all anxiety left me, all thoughts of quitting were gone, and all I could think was "Oh, HELL no! That is just not going to happen!" I finished the last 300 m faster than I ever have.
I knew I had time to make up on the bike. There was no time to drive the course ahead of time, so I wasn't sure what I was riding into. Making sure I kept my nutrition plan intact, off I went. Training on Vintage and then racing on a tri bike is probably the best thing I could have done. I felt light, felt strong, and had no problems tackling the hills. On the first big hill, I was coasting down, and saw that I was doing 33 mph. Halfway down, there was a speed limit sign of 30. Hee hee hee, I was speeding...on my bike. Being the math person I am, I recalculated at every checkpoint what I need to come in on the bike so I could reach my time goal. Coming into transition, I had done what I wanted to do - and had given myself the time on the run I needed.
Hannah and Yanory were waiting for me at T2. Seeing them gave me an extra boost, and I was excited to get out on the run. I really did feel great, only a little tired, but fired up and ready to go. Got out onto the run, and felt this slight pull in the outside of my left leg. It will work itself out, I thought.
On the run course, the middle included a long downhill and a steep uphill, with a tour through the park in the middle. With the three loops, this meant doing the up and down six times. It was great having the two way traffic, because I got to see everyone I knew out on the run. Loop one was no problem, kept pace, felt good. Started on loop two and that twinge started flaring up. After the downhill, it was starting to ache, so I thought I would walk a bit to rest it. I walked with this nice lady who turned out to be from Brownsville, and stopped to help a guy who was cramping up by giving him some S caps. All of a sudden, two hands clamped down on my shoulders and I heard my name called. My buddy Ramon had a flat on the bike, and he had just caught up to me. I thought about running with him, but the pain in my knee was still nagging.
Finishing the second loop, I saw Hannah and Yanory again. This time, I stopped to hug them both, and to let them know the pain was getting worse. It was very uplifting having all the people there, lining the end part of the run course. They didn't just cheer their family members on, they cheered everyone on. And since your first name is on your bib, they call you by name, it's very cool.
That last loop was pretty much agony. I was reduced to walking one minute, running one minute. A nurse joined me for about a mile, and she said that as a nurse, she recommended I stop to prevent more damage, but as a fellow triathlete she knew that was pretty pointless advice. She waved me on for the last mile, and I started forcing myself to run two minutes at a time. I saw Farrah, now out on her run, and we stopped to give each other a congratulatory hug. It was great to see her before the finish. Right before the curve to the finish line, my leg gave out. I stood there crying, gave myself exactly ten seconds, and then said to myself, "Suck it up, you've got people in there waiting for you. You will run to that finish line, smile for your finisher picture and then you will get to medical...so get going!"
And so I did...behind my time goal, but finishing despite the obstacles that were holding me back. Yanory I saw right away, but as I crossed the finish, I didn't see Hannah. I felt down thinking she might have missed it. Then, there she was, holding her arms out to me. I went and hugged her and heard the words that made all of this worthwhile - "I love you Mom, and I am so very proud of you". In time, I will forget the pain, I will forget the details, but I will never forget that moment. I wanted to hold onto it for as long as I could, but my leg needed attention.
Getting into medical, I saw that in the grand scheme of things, I wasn't that bad off. There were people on beds with IV's, and one guy complained about his foot hurting, and when they took off his sock, the bottom of his foot looked like hamburger meat. He had a series of blisters that had the skin taken off from running. Yep, I'd take my knee pain. They iced it and massaged it a bit, and I asked for a verdict. The girl told me that my IT band was pretty tight, but she was fairly sure it was my LCL tendon that I had damaged. I was still so amped up from the race it didn't even register with me what that meant. It was only when I looked at the guy next to her and saw his face I asked how long I would be out. A month, she said, at least. A month? A MONTH? I looked at her and said, "It has two weeks, tops. I have a Full to train for." Obviously, they hear crazy talk often because she didn't laugh at me. She just said to get it checked out, and hopefully she was wrong.
I really wanted to get back to Yanory and Hannah, so I asked if I could leave. Then she laughed. She said I could leave if I could walk to the pole and back. Hah, I thought, I just finished the Half, I can walk that far. I stood up, and almost immediately fell down. What the heck was up with my legs? I will make them work I thought. And like a weebel, I tottered to the pole and back. She laughed some more and said she gave up. I was released.
Coach said I had to take the week off. It has been like living in a different world. When you become so immersed in training, you forget any other life. I've read books, watch TV, and sat by the pool for long periods, trying to fix what triggers the anxiety. Got good news from the doctor - my IT band locked up, I never injured my tendon. Lots of stretching, massage, and some therapy and I will be better than new.
It was an amazing experience that I hope to remember for a long time to come. My students were so excited to see my medal, and a few of them now want to train for triathlons themselves. Tomorrow I start training for the Houston Full. I'll find a new normal as the training gets longer and more arduous. Thanks to my support crew, I found that I had more inner strength than I thought I did. I hope that someday, I can help others the way they helped me.
