Triathlon I

I competed in my first ever triathlon this weekend. Triathlons consist of a swim, bike ride, and a run. I tried to compete in one a few weeks ago in Galveston, but the wind and storms kept us from swimming. Believe me there was no love lost there. Let me give you a brief history of my life in the water.

Ever been to a water park as a teenager with all your buddies in bikinis and you have on a huge life vest? I have. Trust me; it is hard to look cool in a large orange floatation device. Ever have to take a six week course at the local community college to learn how to put your face in the water without having a panic attack? I have. Taken swimming lessons at the country club pool on your lunch break while the tennis ladies and their toddlers look on with sympathy? That would be me.

I have always wanted to do a triathlon, but I knew not being able to swim would hold me back. Well, that and hardly being able to ride a bike. I spent my bonus from work on a racing bike when I decided I would train to do triathlons. If you are not familiar with road bikes, let me give you an example. The tires are about half an inch wide and the seat is not much bigger. On my first ride I rolled rather quickly over a speed bump. Evidently shocks would weigh down the bike and defeat the purpose of racing. I honestly thought my uterus was going to fall out of my body onto that speed bump. Over the past couple of years I have grown accustomed to riding the bike and it no longer stings when I pee.

On a serious note, I loved the way the race was put on by Mike Riley. I think all races should start with a large group prayer. I especially liked that Mike told everyone to put their hand on their heart and look at the flag during the National Anthem. No questions. No complaints. Just do it. Everyone did.

The men start the swim portion of the race three minutes prior to the women. The men wear blue swim caps and the women wear red. Go Hogs. I knew to wait until all colors were in the water before I began the 650 yard battle with the murky water. Imagine my excitement when I made the last turn and realized I was about to pass two blue swim caps! I passed the first man only to realize he was obviously twice my age. The next blue cap seemed to be my age, so I sprinted as hard as I could the last 150 yards. Even though I tried as hard as I could, he still beat me to the finish. When we emerged from the water I saw he had only one arm.

Well Shit.

I felt guilty and inspired. I have no excuses. No one has excuses. We can all do what seems impossible, and none of us need to whine about our obstacles. Pretty deep thoughts coming from a woman who got her ass handed to her by a one armed man.

I then entered the transition area. This is where you get ready for the next leg of the race. I guess I thought it was the area in which you lay down and rest your eyes for a little bit, because most transition times were about a minute. Mine was over four. So what. I finished the bike and run portions with decent times. The operative word there is finished. There was a keg at the end of the race. Some people are strong in the swim while others are strong in the bike or run.

I am strong in the beer.




Thank you for reading my post and I hope you feel a little better about yourself.

Triathlon II

As many of you recall, I completed my first full triathlon last year around this time. I blogged about the experience and was amazed at the responses I received. Some of the highlights were as follows –

1. I finished the swim in record time.
2. I damn near took a nap in the first transition between the swim and bike. Therefore I had the longest transition time out of 335 people.
3. I had my ass handed to me in the swim by a one armed man.
4. I drank a beer the moment after I ran across the finish line.

I completed the same triathlon yesterday, but it was not the same experience. Some things were the same though. Mike Riley and his group of volunteers did an amazing job as always. I love that he tells everyone to put their hands over their hearts for the national anthem, and everyone does. I love the time reserved for prayer, even if some young dumbasses laughed and talked during it. I did restrain myself from not yelling, “What the Hell is your problem? Can’t you see people are praying?” I did however stop my own personal prayer time and give them the evil eye. I think I made my point.

Since it was unusually cold Sunday morning we were allowed to wear wetsuits in the water. My wetsuit and required swim cap made me look like an orca wearing a yellow condom. Maybe it was because I was swimming in Lake Infectious. Maybe it was the cold weather, or perhaps it was because it was my first race of the season, but for some reason I had a panic attack in the water. For those of you who are not familiar with panic attacks, my heart pounded until my chest hurt. My arms went numb and refused to work, and I was gasping for air. In other words, I LOST MY SHIT in the water. I haven’t had a panic attack in years and was amazingly disappointed with myself for having one in the damn water at a race. I hung on to one of the rescue canoes off and on for the remainder of the swim. I refused to cry in my goggles. The operator of the canoe was amazing and we had a nice chat. I owe him a steak dinner.

Since I was the last person out of the water, I knew I needed to make up time on the bike and run. This was my plan for about 4 seconds until the zipper on my wetsuit messed up and it took three people to get me out of it. I had to pee really bad and most people just pee in the wetsuit but since I was obviously in no hurry I said to hell with it and just walked to the actual bathroom and used a real toilet before I got on my bike. Many people only have about 2 minutes transition in between the swim and the bike. With my zipper issues and my trip to the shitter my transition time was about 10 minutes.

I saw an older woman get on her bike a few minutes before I mounted mine and decided I was going to pass her. I had to make up some time and needed some inspiration. Where is that one armed bastard when you need him? I needed a reason to make myself push harder. I kept telling myself I could catch that old bitch.

That old bitch could move. I didn’t pass her until the run. After her - I passed someone else. I did not, however, pass the keg when I was finished.

I was on beer number three during the awards when my name was called. WHAT? I won 4th place in my age group. I don’t give a rats flying fat ass if there were only 4 women in my age group. I actually won something! I have never won any type of race, raffle, door prize, or nose picking contest in my life! So many times during that race I wanted to quit. I wanted to cry often but knew I wanted to finish. I reminded myself of that when I had my picture taken with my beautiful 4th place sign. I. AM. AWESOME.


And then I locked my keys in the car.

As always, thank you for reading my post, and I hope you feel a little better about yourself.