Do I get points for tri-ing?


(NOTE:  This is an old  (presumed lost) post from 2011, a follow up to the prior post.)

Well, after all the training, and worrying, the big event is over. We lived through another triathlon (sprint distance –I feel like I keep having to clarify that!)  In retrospect, that was FREAKING HARD!  I’m really proud of my girls, Jenn and Brandy… they totally rocked it.  I finished, and I’m really OK with that.  (BTW: This was Brandy’s first, and she had the best time! Way to go, B!)

This event should have been a cake-walk compared to that last one — way up in the steep, oxygen-free mountains of Colorado. This one was in my back yard… sort of… in Texas, anyway, where I’m perfectly happy breathing the hot, sponge-y air.  Somehow though, once again, I underestimated the hills, even though this was basically in the “Hill Country” region of Texas (near Austin).  We even drove to the race site the day before and failed to see the hills.  In our minds, the bike ride would be the soft, creamy filling between a short-ish swim, and a maybe challenging run in the warm Texas morning sun.

We also seriously underestimated the wind-factor.

The swim segment went pretty much as I expected.  I started out swimming, then panicked, and then swallowed a lot of water.  Then I swam like a frog trying desperately not to drown in a swirling toilet for the remainder of the long, long (500m) swim.

The event pictures aren’t up yet, so I have some artistic renditions.  Here’s me after the swim, in the first transition (T1 in triathlete lingo):


By the time I exited the water, Jenn and Brandy were well into the bike segment.  (They started in the group 3 minutes ahead of me).

This is how I imagined them.  They killed it, despite the demon winds.




Imagine my dismay, when after barely living through the swim, I rounded the first turn on the bike and found myself at the bottom of a hill!  Not quite the hellish inclines from Colorado, but still… hills. Imagine my further dismay when a big gust of wind nearly knocks me off my teetering bike as I try to figure out how gears work in the middle of the uphill climb.  Urgh.

My left hand went completely numb somewhere around Mile 3.  It hurt, but I was too terrified to take my hand off the handle-bars to shake it out. The skinny tires on the bike (I’m not really a road-bike kind of person) were scary to me, and the road was a little too bumpy.  About Mile 7 (of 14), I noticed that my crotch area felt like it had swollen ten times it’s normal size.  It hurt like a bitch, and no amount of shifting in the seat made it better.    


By this time, I figured Jenn and Brandy were about to start their run.  I was not jealous of them.  But, they rocked it.  Somehow they managed to keep moving, despite the gale-force winds…


By the time I finished the bike segment, I hated the bike.  I wanted off the bike.  I really didn’t give a shit how fast I made it to the run segment.  Here is me going through the 2nd transition (T2):



Then I started the run.  In the hurricane-force winds.  Soon, I decided running was for chumps.  Or crazy people.  Or people that had eaten something more than a power bar at 4:30 am.  I had nothing left in me, and I was feeling pretty darned whiney. 


I ended up walking a good part of the 3 miles.  But of course, just before the finish line, I managed to perk up for a photo-op.  How do I look?



I finished in 2:02.  Jenn was just a hair shy of her goal of 1:45 and Brandy came in just under that.   I’m amazed by those two girls.  They have something in them that I just don’t have.  But, I’m ok with that. I was just in it for the picture.  Ha!  🙂

Follow up:  The event pics are in!  And even though mine were not the most flattering (pretty typical of any pictures of me), I bought a couple only because the uncanny resemblance to my drawings totally cracked me up.  What do you think?


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