Try - A - Thlon

A little photo from my Office Tour with the Medal on. You know how things like that happen to Olympians when they get home... all the school children want to hold the medal and see you with your uniform on. Well, it's the same with my staff.

Well, I'm back from the vacation to the West and it was glorious. I've got some fun pictures to share of the family, but right now the accessible ones on my computer are triathlon ones that have been shared with me. So, for now this will just be a triathlon report.

I was scared. In fact, my hands still go a bit numb thinking about it. The gravity of this athletic endeavor did not sink in until a pre-race meeting when 100 athletes were gathered in a room and talking specifics. By this time, it was known by the Mudhoneys that out of the 8 of us present 3 would be cheering, 3 would be doing the sprint distance and only Sarah Sutherland and I the Olympic distance. And I was only hanging on to that distance out of sheer allegiance to a long friendship with Sarah - who does not bend in the fact of fear. And she now has chisled arms and abs that scare me.

We had a Mudhoneys team dinner, filled with nervous banter. I like the team a lot - funny, good, people. I know Jill, Sarah, and Kim, but it was my first meeting of Anne and Heather and ultimately Jed and Vegas Ann. We also distributed the traditional tatoos at this meeting. The choices were a girl riding a bike emblazoned with "Team Estrogen" and a koala bear emblazoned with "Hogle Zoo". We split 50/50.

Back in my room, Jill and Kim helped me to try on my wetsuit. I started off solo, but then got stuck in my "second skin". Those things are crazy tight, and I had put it on backwards and begun to put on my sleeves way too early. I was exhasted, sweating, and choking by the end. In the spirit of solidarity, so were Kim and Jill. It was bedtime after that, and from reports no one slept really well. I had extraordinarily vivid dreams.

Up at 5:20 to meet in the parking lot and get to the 8 am race. There was a huge line to get into the state Park where this was happening. It was really beautiful to see the sunrise on the desert and hundreds of triathletes preparing. The spirit of community at these races is really unique and fun. That was my favorite part of the marathon last year. We set up our transition area and then kind of walked around to see where to enter/exit on each leg of the race. There was also an attempt to pace your eating and bathroom time, so that you did each in time enough to have energy and not have your wetsuit on.

Sarah and I's wave was first out of the mudhoneys - all women doing Olympic. Out of the 1300 racers, 500 were doing Olympic so it was a big crowd. We put on the wetsuits (easier this time) and stood in our group. Sarah kept reassuring us with the mantra: "We are just going for a swim with some friends. Then a nice bike ride with some friends. Then we'll run a bit and be done!" The swim was really the fear peak, due to the newness of swimming a mile in open water. None of us had done it, let alone with a crowd. We waded down to the starting line, laughed a bit at where this friendship has taken us, and then the gun went off.

Green water and bubbles. That is my memory of those next 40 minutes. I immediately couldn't breathe really well, due to the suit or excitement or high altitude I know not. But it took me awhile to get into a rhythm. When I did, it ended up being about 30-50 freestyle strokes, then orienting myself to the buoys with 10-20 breast strokes, mixed in with a few legs of backstroke when I was really needing air. Sarah and I lost each other immediately, but discovered at team dinner after the race that Sarah had yelled to a backstroker to stay left and heard a shout back of "thanks". It was me. We finished pretty close to each other and shared some game face moments in the transition area, which you ran 200 meters to get to in your bare feet after exiting the swim. Most people just looked happy to have survived that leg.

Off with the wetsuit, goggles, and cap - on with the helmet and clip shoes. A jog to the transition exit and then on to the bikes for the 25 mile "ride with friends". It was at first, as Sarah and I were within site of each other. Her chain came off at one point, which allowed me to catch her for a minute. But she just destroyed people on the hills. It was a marvel to see. It was a beautiful ride - some good challenging hills and then some straight plateau where you could just look forever into the desert. Really fun ride - which I owe much to the glory of the great rode bike that Matt donated to my life last year. It is a dream.

Finished the bike and again clopped to the transition area to leave the helmet behind and put on running shoes. I forgot my bib. Began the run and immediately knew how hot it was when you don't have the benefit of biking wind and sweat working together. Hot, hot, hot. It was an off-road run, so pretty sandy. I found a friend in 60 year old Debbie, who had done 10 of these. She was fun to run next to for awhile. By the time we were on the second loop and half way done with the run, bitterness had set in. I was walking at the water stops and using any ounce of willpower to not walk the rest of the run. Tired and hot. But, eventually the finish line showed up and there were all the mudhoneys, as well as Cheer Team Piacitelli/Guymon/Pace to greet a weary soul.



We stuck around to relax together and see a mudhoney victory - Jill Adams won the sprint Athena division. And then it was off to the showers.

So, I finished in the middle of the 500 person pack, 13th in my division, and in about 3 1/2 hours. Again, met the goals of survival and doing it under 4 hours. Overall, I do believe I am much more interested in this sport than marathons. And I say that just to proclaim that maybe, maybe, I'll do one of these again.