… And I quote, “… the bike ride is definitely manageable.” Ha. I said this five weeks ago. This was not the case on Saturday as I stood over my bike on the side of the road, trying to catch my breath in between throwing up, thinking to myself ‘I shouldn’t have had that breakfast burrito.’
The morning of the race I was fairly calm and I knew what I had in front of me. I trained and anticipated this race for 5 weeks and suddenly everything came to a halt when the announcer counted down from ten and the gun went off. It only felt real as soon as I did my first stroke under water.
The swim was different than I had imagined it to be. Swimming in the pool by yourself in three feet of water is nothing like taking off simultaneously with 100 people all swimming the same course.
I was kicked, and I did some kicking my self, none of it on purpose though- that’s just the way it is. Once I got into my own area I found my stroke and the next think I know I had rounded the second booey and I was off for the home stretch.
Coming out of the water I experienced what they call “sea legs,” and it somewhat shocked me. I had a difficult time getting off my wet suit and when I got to my bike I was ready to go… At least I thought I was.
“Altitude.” Everyone was saying prior to the race, but I had yet to feel it. It suddenly hit me with all 7500 feet of it. After about the second mile, I was huffing and puffing, gasping for air, thighs burning, trying to make it up a monster of a hill. Around every corner I thought it come to an end but I just kept on climbing.
When I reached the peek, I pulled off to the side of the road where I emptied my breakfast and was passed by fellow triathletes. For a split second I thought I was done for, but I got back on my bike and coasted down the hill I had just earned, emptying the rest of my stomach twice more, my eyes watering, at 35 miles per hour. It sounds horrible, but it actually gave me my second wind.
The rest of the ride was beautiful. Although it was difficult due to fatigue, I had as much control as I had had yet, and I knew only one climb awaited me before the last leg; the run.
As I said, I had dreaded the run more than anything else, but I could almost feel the finish line with every forward stride. At the turn around, I grabbed some gummy electrolytes and some Gatorade, both of them giving me the extra boost I needed to muscle through.
I saw the clock for the first time while making the turn for the second lap. It read 1:36 minutes. Up until this point, I hadn’t even though about the time. My focus was so sharp that I was just doing the motions, my mind fighting my body.
On the last and final lap I was passing a group of runners when my right foot landed awkwardly, halfway on a rock and halfway the ground. My ankle gave out and I hit the ground ‘thinking that this can’t be happening.’ I did not come all this way to give up on the last mile I thought to my self. So I got up. My adrenaline and endorphins must have been running on high, because before I knew it the pain was gone and each step brought me closer to my final goal.
As I crossed the last bridge and saw the finish line surrounded by people, while hearing the dim words of an announcer I couldn’t quite make out, I knew I had made it. Not only were the last 1:47 minutes behind me now, but so was all the training that led up to the home stretch.
I enjoyed the last 100 meters like I have never enjoyed a run in my life and crossed the finish line with a radiant smile on my face.
I didn’t intend what –so-ever on making the podium but as I glanced at the results of the 20-24 year-old age group and it surprised me. I took home second place. Unfortunately there was no one on the right of me up on top of the podium; I was 2 of 2 in my age group. But I’ll take it, and my second place trophy.