A Cheerful Farewell

The last few weeks have been a blur with early-season racing – namely the St. Louis Half Marathon, a long-course duathlon, and a sprint distance triathlon last weekend. Man, it has been exhilarating to get out and “burn the dust” off the legs after winter hibernation.

Our investment broker Patrick came along for his first tri ever and we made the poor guy show up at our house by 4am (natural for me, ungodly for him :)) for the 2 ½ hour drive to the race. We racked all three bikes, stacked our bags, threw some food and drinks into a cooler, and tore out (ok – drove stealthily) of the driveway by 4:15am. As planned, Steve promptly fell asleep in the back seat. I was already hopped up on enough coffee to carry me through several races so I was behind the wheel, Patrick riding shotgun.

We arrived exactly at 6:30, perfect for an 8:00am Start time, picked up our race packets and racked our bikes in the Transition Area. It was about 45F and we already knew the water temperature was 62F – yikes. Thankfully we brought wetsuits to mitigate the jolt of the frigid water.

After a short run warmup, we put on our wetsuits and once again Steve relished the joy of “helping” his wife pull on her second skin :). We laughed all over again at the hilarity of his “free pass” to grope his wife in public last summer as he helped me with my wetsuit in the 39-degree temperatures at the Ironman Start. Not so long ago, it used to be he pinned my race number on my shirt – kind of as a “comfort” routine for me before a race. Now I use a race belt for my number and he’s literally “into my ‘skin’” – what kind of subtle racket is this that my husband is cultivating?

Not that I’m complaining… :)

At the swim warmup, well, to say the water was frigid wins the Understatement of the Year Award - my head immediately felt like a bag of ice. I could only stand it for 5 minutes and was hit with a considerable wave of vertigo as I staggered out of the water and onto the beach. I’ve never been vulnerable to the “brain freeze” that sometimes goes with quickly downing a cold drink, so I was caught off guard. It quickly subsided however and I was READY to race.

The duathletes (run/bike/run – no swim, perfect for athletes who hate or don’t wish to take on an open water swim – also the event Steve was in) went first. He was off in a flash and we die-hard triathletes waited in the cold water for the Start. The men went off first and an amazing fact quickly emerged – nearly 90% of the athletes were GUYS. Only a handful of us girls remained after the men’s wave. We all started laughing, mainly at all the testosterone seeping into the lake – the guys are SO COMPETITIVE – but I really shouldn’t say much about that since the fangs come out on me too once the gun goes off.

Finally we were off into the water and the time flew. I guess that’s what happens in ridiculous temperatures – you swim so fast you barely touch the surface, ha ha :).

I was out onto the beach as fast as a Cigarette boat and had my wetsuit to the waist by the time I was running up the hill to the bike area. Once in the transition, I’ve learned to get my wetsuit down to the ground and just step fully onto the remainder; it peels right off in less than 30 seconds. Ah, experience…and practice! Thanks Jen for the expert advice :)!!

It was still 45F when I was getting onto my bike but I hardly felt it. I was pedaling like mad to get my legs fired up; this was only a 14 mile bike and it was high time to push HARD. I passed a girl who was 38 and she actually began to speed up when I was going around her. This is a blatant violation of the USA Triathlon rules and it was clear she didn’t know (or didn’t care, but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt). I said over my shoulder “USAT rules say a rider should fall back when being passed. You’ll be penalized if you’re caught.” She said “Oh, OK; I’m sorry – I’m a first-timer.” I said “No worries; it’s how I found out too.”

Here’s where the fangs came out – once I said that to her and also saw she’s 5 years my junior, I was GONE. Something ignited in me and I wanted to dust a younger “newbie.”

Later on I also dusted plenty of guys too and that is very gratifying. Guys with their bigger leg muscles can naturally push a bigger gear than us girls, so it felt good to hang with the boys for a bit – and then say SEE YA!! :)

I was in the Dude-This-is-Way-Uncomfortable Zone the whole ride, but that is exactly where I wanted to be. Steve said he saw me on the bike course but my head was down and I was so focused I didn’t even “see” him. He was right – the only thing I was seeing was the road, the next rider, and my average mph – which was appreciably higher than last season – YEAH!

I blasted onto the run and worked hard to find my legs. I clocked a speedy first mile split and then shortly thereafter heard the ambulance siren on the course. The strength immediately left my legs for a few minutes – what if it was Steve? Younger athletes have died due to seemingly the most random causes. Five eternal minutes passed and I struggled to focus on running my own race and not let my mind’s rightful authority be overthrown by my undisciplined and freethinking imagination.

It turned out to be a guy who was cramping so badly he couldn’t walk and I saw Steve shortly afterwards looking just as healthy as ever on the run course. It took every ounce of energy to not burst into tears - all I could say was “I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!!”

I emptied myself out on the course and finished very strong. My bike and run times are substantially faster than last year and after 3 early-season races, in all of which I blew away my own personal records, I am saying a CHEERFUL FAREWELL to the back of the pack.

Na na nah na, na na nah na, hey hey hey, GOOD-BYE!!!