I completed my first triathlon!  How did it go?  Well, not like I expected, in both bad and good ways.  It all started with preparations the night before…..

Little by little, I have purchased my various gear, mostly on amazon searching for a good deal.  I had purchased a beautiful transition bag, because my research (of course) showed that it helped stay organized and everything has its place inside.  I love to be organized and strategic.  I laid out everything on my very extensive checklist and laid out my transition area in the living room.  I took visual note of everything and went to grab my new bag.  That’s when the negative thoughts started in.  Why did I get this bag?  I don’t even know if I am gonna be able to finish this small triathlon and here I am with this bag that people use in Ironmans.  This is dumb, I am going to look and feel like a pretentious fool out there… and then it hit me.  I started to feel like one of those people who gets into a sport or hobby and has to get all the latest gear and gadgets to hide the fact that they really don’t know what they are doing.  Scrap it, I am getting my old beat up back pack.

I packed the backpack and Darin walked by.  “Um, I think you packed the wrong bag” he said.  I hid my face a little and just told him I was checking to see how it all fit since there were way fewer things that I needed than I originally thought.  He proceeded to remind me that I bought this bag for triathlon, and I was packing for triathlon.  He also reminded me that no one would know if it was first or fifty first triathlon.  I told him how I felt and that I just needed to do whatever helped me be less stressed.  After trying to cram everything in the backpack and still having no room for my transition mat, I left it all just sitting there.  I came back to it a short while later and pulled everything back out.  I decided that I would put it all in the transition bag, just to see the difference.  Well, the right tool for the job always yields the best results.  Everything had its place and most importantly, everything fit!  Looks like I was taking the transition bag.  I prepped the rest of my things for the morning and tried to get some sleep.

I actually got a little more sleep than expected, but made one mistake.  I woke up at 3am wide eyed and bushy tailed.  I used the restroom and was actually excited for the race.  I told myself I should rest a little longer since I didn’t have to get up until 4:30.  I laid back down and just tried to relax.  I eventually dozed off and work up around 4:15, not so bright eyed and bushy tailed.  I was not cranky, but I woke up in one of those states where you feel like you were in the middle of good sleep and now you need to get back there.  My eyes were heavy and my heart was a little heavy.  I wasn’t excited anymore, I was nervous.  I really wish that I had stayed up when I originally woke.  I think it would have helped.

I had a little coffee, half an apple and some almond butter.  I generally work out on little to no fuel and hadn’t really done a good job of practicing eating before a race like this so I didn’t want to push it.  I got all the things ready that I had to wait until the morning for and got dressed.  We woke D2, got everything in the car and headed out.  We had planned to stop and get the boy a donut on the way, but time got away from us and we couldn’t without risking not getting there early enough.  I felt horrible, I really wanted him to have that donut.  We at least had a banana for him to munch on, so he wasn’t hungry but I still felt horrible.  Darin asked if I was exited on the way and all I could muster up was “I guess.”

We got to the park and I grabbed my bag and bike.  Only athletes are allowed in the transition area, which I really like for a couple reasons.  First, its for security.  The likelihood that anyone is going to steal anything is slim to none and there are security guards watching.  Second, it allows you to just do your thing.  I love all the support that Darin gives me, but I would not want any help setting up.  I would just want to do it on my own.  Truth be told, it also made me feel pretty cool.  So, I racked my bike, got my transition area set up and went to get marked.

It was pretty cool to have the officials give me my chip timer and get body marked.  They put your race number on both arms and your age on your calf.  Kinda sucked that I am really 39 and they have to write 40, but it all goes by how old you are within that calendar year, so 40 it is.  The chip timer was heavier than I expected, but at the same time very comfortable.  I heard an announcement that they were closing transition and had to run back in and grab my goggles and cap!  I had already applied my anti fog, so I just needed to rinse and I was ready to go.

We went over to the swim start and my heart started racing.  I knew I could not swim that distance without issue.  All the negative thoughts started to pour in my head.  I knew I was ill prepared for this,  How was I going to make it?  The funny and surprising thing is that I could really care less about how gross the bottom was, or what creatures could be lurking in the water.  I was more concerned about how I was going to get from point A to point B.  It’s a long freaking way to someone who doesn’t feel confident in their swim abilities.  I watched the first waves go off and noticed how many people were swimming with their heads above the water.  I thought to myself about how inefficient that is, but that I would probably do the same since I was having issues breathing on dry land at the moment.

At 7:15, when it was my group’s turn, I got into the water towards the back outer edge of the pack and waiting for the countdown.  I kept telling myself that I could do this, I could do this.  The buzzer went off and I took off.  The first ten seconds felt amazing.  I was doing this!  I tried to put my head in to be efficient and immediately realized that was not going to happen.  Inefficient swimming it was.  I made the turn at the first buoy and already felt completely out of gas.  If I were to describe the course it would be a U shape, but the bottom of the U was about half the entire distance.  That would mean that I was maybe a quarter of the way there.  Panic ensued and I had to flip onto my back.  Ok, I told myself.  This is what I prepared for, I am great on my back.  I can catch my breath, get back to a normal rhythm and then flip over and do some more.  I began to try to slow my breathing and took one good long deep breath.  Just so happens at that moment another swimmer was nearby splashing like crazy and a ton of water went into my face.  I began to choke on it and naturally at that moment, my breathing got worse, not better.  I kept swimming on my back, trying to calm my breathing.  I slowly realized that I could not get my breath back to a decent rhythm.  I could not calm myself down.  Over and over, I tried to flip onto my front and swim a bit, then onto my back again I went.  I stopped a lifeguard thinking I could catch my breath there and bout ten seconds later I decided I was just wasting time.  I think I probably swam about 80% of it on my back.  At one point I flipped over and realized I was only about half way and I wanted to cry.  I just wanted to quit.  I played the entire scenario in my head.  Quitting, telling D2 that sometimes learning from failure is the best thing that could happen.  How everyone there would feel bad for me but support me just the same.  Then I realized I was convincing myself to flat out quit.  Not because I tried my best and din’t make it, but because I was tired and defeated.  I decided that I could not let that happen and even if I completed the entire thing on my back, I was going to finish.  I couldn’t let everyone down.  I couldn’t let myself down.  I just kept going, back and forth from my front to back.  It felt like an eternity.  I only hoped at that point, that I would make it in time to not be disqualified.

I eventually got close enough to the finish that I knew I could complete the swim on my front and gave it all I had.  I got to a point where I was sure I could stand.  I was wrong.  I had to swim just a little bit more.   I finally made it to where I could stand.  I looked up and everyone was waiting for me, cheering me on.  I was so exhausted I was not sure what would happen next.  I headed to transition, not at the dashing speed I envisioned, but a quick walk since I was dizzy and beat.  I got into transition and took a deep breath.  I had completed the swim.  It sucked, it was not what I pictured and I was not proud, but I completed it.  I rinsed my feet of all the grass and pebbles, dried them off and got into my socks and bike shoes.  I took a gel, drank some water, put on my glasses and strapped on my helmet to head out.  I grabbed my bike and headed to where I could mount.  It was now time for the second hardest part of the triathlon.  I figured I had to make a pretty good time since they required everyone be done with the first leg of the bike court by 8am.

I walked and then jogged to the mount line and got on the bike.  It was by no means a flying mount, I took my time and headed off.  I had to tell myself to keep a slow enough pace that I would not gas out.  I took the first few minutes to just enjoy the air.  My breathing became normal and regulated again.  My nerves started to calm and I just peddled on.  I kept a great pace and was feeling really good.  The course was pretty smooth with a couple tight turns.  I passed maybe two people.  Before I knew it, I was at the second loop of the course.  I started to get really excited.  I could totally do that one more time, it was actually enjoyable.  The swim and all the negativity was behind me.  I knew I could finish.  I decided to let myself crank it up a bit and push a little harder this second loop.  I pushed and passed a couple more people.  I enjoyed the scenery and hydrated well the entire time.  While the swim felt like an eternity, the bike ride felt like an instant.  I stood on the pedals to get the blood flowing towards the end of the run and just hoped that my time was good enough that I did not get disqualified.  I had to make the first lap of the run by 9am.  I never checked the time, I just felt like I was doing ok.  When I got to the dismount, there was someone slowing to a stop in front of me, so I knew I could take it easy.  I did fine in the dismount and ran my bike into transition.

Transition two was much faster than one.  I racked my bike, changed my shoes and grabbed my visor to head out.  I got some water and hit the run.  I was excited to see everyone yet again cheering me on.  I knew I was tired but I also knew that I would finish.  Running was my thing out of all three events and I knew that even if I didn’t make an ideal time I was more than capable of completing it.   A sense of calm came over me and I just went.  My Garmin vibrated when I hit one mile.  I hadn’t looked at it all this time other than to push the button between events.  I glanced down and saw that I was running a 10 minute mile pace.  I told myself I needed to slow down.  I know I was gassed after the swim.  I felt ok after the bike but I still had 2/3 of the run left so I needed to make sure I didn’t gas out now.  I took small walk breaks at the water stations, which were about every mile.  I started into my second lap and everyone cheered again.  I screamed out that I really wanted pancakes!!  I laughed and knew I was in the home stretch.  When I approached the finish line I ran through with the biggest smile on my face!

An official took my chip timer, and asked if I wanted some water.  While I was following him to get the water, I heard the announcer say my name.  I looked over and he said “Cristina has a whole lot of family here and they want to see that medal!”  I held it up and smiled.  He came over to me and told me to put it on for photos.  I did so, and walked over to my family.  I hugged everyone, as sweaty as I was and when Darin grabbed me and told me how proud he was of me, I cried.  I had finally done it.  I had finished.  I completed my first triathlon!  I can’t believe this day finally came.

This was truly one of the best days of my life, for so many reasons.  For the first time, I actually let people come to an event.  Yes, Darin is generally at all my events and maybe D2, but I have never had anyone else to an event.  I just did not want to inconvenience them or make it “all about me”.  Not only have I never had anyone to an event, I tell very few people about my events or how I feel about the results.  Today was different.  I had my two amazing boys with me of course, but also my mom and running buddy and her family.  I felt so much love and support going into the event and it was amazing.  I also had tons of people to notify of how I did when the race was over.  I put myself way out of my comfort zone and learned so many things about myself, all in the course of less than two hours.  I soon found out that I did way better than I had imagined.  I did everything in one hour and thirty-six minutes.  It was most definitely time for pancakes.

I don’t think you can take up a sport or training of some kind and not be proud, and you should be.  A lot of hard work goes into getting up every day and getting it done.  Pride, however can also be damaging.  I am a perfect example of that.  I am one of those people that is often to proud to ask for help.  I am also too proud to admit when I need to take it easy or slow down a bit.  I have big goals, and there is nothing wrong with that, but I also need to admit to myself where I am in my training and ability.  It’s tough because that can vary, even by the day.

I have shifted my training a bit, because I realized that I am possibly going to struggle more on race day if I don’t adjust the way things are scheduled.  Most of my training happens between 5am and 6am.  I get up, get dressed and head out.  If the training is long, I will bring a gel and have that while out, but I am done with training on weekdays by 6 and some weekends by 7 or 8.  That’s good in that I get it done nice and early, but bad in that the conditions at that time in the morning are much easier on the body than they would be at say 9am.  When was just running, it wasn’t as much of a big deal because on long run days, I still got the feel of what the heat was like and most long races start at 6am anyway, but for triathlon it is different.

The triathlon starts the first swim wave right about 7am.  I am not sure what order they go in, but I could very well be starting at 8am for all I know.  That would likely lead to my running anywhere from 8am to 10am depending on the start and how well I finish the other two disciplines.  That also means that I need to eat the morning of the race.  I need to have already had something to get my body moving and stay moving before the start.  Then, I need to ensure that I keep those energy stores ready and going through the even.  I decided to go out later on the weekend training sessions and start eating and maybe having coffee or something before I head out.  Better to find out what doesn’t work on a training day than race day.

The other morning, I had a 10 mile bike ride scheduled.  I was on the fence about if I was looking forward to it or not.  Part of me was, part of me was not.  I got up at 4:30 as usual and had a cup of coffee.  I wasn’t sure how that was going to work out as coffee can “get things moving” for me, if you know what I mean.  I figured I would try to have a gel before I headed out and the another when I got back as I was going to do a walk/run right after with a friend.  The coffee did it’s job and I was relieved that I felt good to go when it was time to head out at 6am.

For this morning’s ride, I wanted to try to keep a good pace and see where I thought my time would be in the race.  The challenge is that in training, I have a few intersections so having to stop is a must.  I set the Garmin to auto pause the timer, so that stops would not be counted in the total time.  I headed out feeling great.  I got on the bike and started out really strong.  About a mile in, I had to get myself to slow down a bit as I was too afraid I would burn myself up in the first half and have a hard time heading back home.

My legs were great, my cadence was high (for me) and I was going pretty fast (again, for me)!  I was so happy with my performance.  I barely had to stop for a light and was headed to the halfway point.  I decided to give myself a burst of pleasure by looking down to see where my time was.  You see, in the past it has taken me anywhere from 45-48 minutes to do about 10 miles.  I was almost where I would turn around and I assumed I was under 20, I mean I was flying for crying out loud.  So proud…..until I looked down and saw 22 and change on the clock.

Seriously?!  No way!  How could this be happening?  I mean, I was feeling good, I was flying.  Apparently, feeling good or like you are flying does not actually constitute going any faster than a day where you are not feeling great but are pushing hard.  Even though the math would not support it, surely my average speed was near that of sound….. ok maybe not, 13.6 mph.  I was immediately defeated.  It took me a moment to shake that off.

Maybe I did the right thing?  Maybe I slowed down to conserve energy to kick the crap out of the second half.  At least, that is what I tried convincing myself of.  I hit the turn around point and did my best not to just stop and cry it out.  Suck it up, conquer that inner biotch.  I pedaled and just tried to focus on smooth strokes and getting home.  I was either going to do well or I wasn’t but I just wanted to get back home at this point.

Turns out that second half was a little better and I did it in 20 with an average of 14.9 mph.  Pride got in the way at first.  I hear Han Solo every time I think: “Don’t get cocky” but that is what I did.  I assumed that since I felt good and had held back in other sessions that I had it in the bag.  When I saw I didn’t, pride almost got in the way again and I almost didn’t push as hard.  In the end it worked out well.  I set a PR for myself.  That time may not be great for others, but for me it is something to work with and my goal is to achieve that after a swim that terrified me.

Miriam-Webster defines prejudice as an adverse opinion or leaning formed without just grounds or before sufficient knowledge.  That is me with swimming.  Before even really trying I was already dead set against my ability to do it well.  So much so, that my goal all along was to just survive it and not get a DNF after all this hard work.  I have been focusing primarily on the bike and run.  I love the run, so that is easy and the bike is almost as much fun as the run… but the swimming not so much.

My brain has gotten in the way of my swimming so much so, that I always go into it with a negative stream of thoughts.  Just get in, and get it done.  Train enough that you believe you can finish without drowning and we are good.  The last swim practice I had at the pool went pretty well.  It was one of those days where although I did not want to go (I never do), I went and I was pretty relaxed.  I did not reach any really goal but I went and got it done.  I put in the yards I had to and headed home.  For all intensive purposes it went fine.  Maybe I would start to get cocky again and that could help?

I went out again this morning with the expectation that, while I did to enjoy it,  I would get in and get it done again.  I was sorely mistaken.  I got in and did a side drill which went fine.  I did not bring the zoomers this time, I just wanted to be au natural.  I started off on my first freestyle lap.  I felt pretty good, but when I hit the end of the lap, which was just 25 yards, I realized how out of breath I was.  I tried again and again to alter when I took the breath, how I took the breath, how long I exhaled, nothing helped.  My brain took over and told me that I was not capable of this today.

I was only about halfway through, only 200 meters/yards done and I was utterly defeated.  I wanted to call it a day.  I wanted to get out, go to my car and cry.  I just wanted to be done.  I wanted to chalk it up to a bad training day and let it go.  I grabbed the edge of the pool to pull myself out and then stopped myself.  What if it was race day?  What if race day was this crappy?  What would I do?  How would I finish?  There were only two possible answers.  I would quit and not finish, or I would have to figure out a way to finish, even if the way was not ideal.

I decided to stay in the pool.  My new goal for today was to just keep going.  Even if I had to be on my back, my side, whatever it took just to finish the last 200.  That’s exactly what I did.  I’m not super proud of achieving that goal.  I did most of it on my back, so that I would not hyperventilate.  I didn’t do any of it well, and I certainly must have looked a hot mess trying over and over again to get into a good freestyle stride, only to have to flip onto my back again to breathe calmly again.

I finally hit the last lap and stayed at the edge of the pool again.  I started to just gaze out into nothing, trying to catch my breath and hold back tears.  That’s when i looked over and saw a swim group warming up.  I looked at all the different faces of the people in the group.  Some looked so excited to be there, others a little scared.  The group was made up of varied special needs folks.  Some were old, some were young.  The coach got them all into lanes and got them started on their swims.  I was blown away by how focused and determined they were.  I have no idea what their skill levels were.  I have no idea what fears they have or did’t have.  I could tell that some didn’t want to be there, even more than me.  Others were so grateful and excited to be there.

I decided in that moment to stop feeling sorry for myself.  I did just two more laps and collected my things.  I headed over to shower to rinse off.  When I was done and turned around, Kristie the swim coach was standing there.  She said she didn’t realize it was me down in that lane or she would have watched and gave me some tips.  I told her I was doing a little better but still had problems slowing down and end up hyperventilating to a certain extent.  I told her I would probably benefit from another session or two.  She told me about a ladies group swim every Sunday and introduced me to one of the ladies in the group, Sandy.  I told her I would absolutely love to join in.  I needed it.

I did cry when I got back to my car.  Sometimes you just need to let it out, or at least I do.  Today was very humbling and taught me many lessons that I am grateful for.  First and foremost not to take things for granted.  Being proud of accomplishments is fine, but being too proud to accept help or seek it out is not.  One good training day does not mean that you are ready.  I have been so scared of the swim that I was too frightened to have a real goal other than to finish.  I am very dismissive of the swim.  Almost cocky in assuming that I will finish and don’t need to consider it as anything more than a necessary evil.  I haven’t been accepting of the fact that to love triathlon, you have to train for all of its parts, you have to accept everything that comes with it and you have to understand that every part is equally important.  Sure, you might be better at one than other, but they are all important.

Most importantly, I learned to be grateful.  Grateful that I am healthy and able to train for three very challenging disciplines on their own, yet alone all together.  I am grateful for a supportive family that puts up with, and works around my training schedule.  I have only 4 weeks left to train and I have learned more than ever that the time I have is valuable.  I have a new focus these next few weeks.  Yes, I need to train on the bike and on the run, but my calendar is going to swim centric from this point on.  No more swim prejudice.  The swim has now become the most important part of my training and its a challenge that, for the first time, I am embracing.