Greenfield Lightlife RR

Greenfield Lightlife Triathlon
Greenfield, MA
August 6, 2006
Swim: .63 mi/Bike: 30.4 mi/Run: 7.2 mi
First ever Olympic (plus a little for good measure)
Goal 1: Finish.
Goal 2: Be happy.

Going into this race, I felt prepared. PREPARED. Bikes had been around 40 mi, runs were there, with a little speed, and swimming… Well swimming still sucked, but I figured I now KNEW I could handle most swim conditions. In the weeks previous to the race, I had dealt with a few major blows to my psyche, however. Mom needs major neck surgery (and needs me to come home to take care of her). I only have a year to finish my work in grad school (which makes #1 even worse). And some other personal issues I won’t bore you with. Let’s just say I was fully aware that things could go south just because of the lack of mental preparation and concentration.

Somehow I managed to keep it together. I’m not sure how. It just happened. I took all day Saturday, talked at length with some great friends, got my stuff together, and went over my race plan (Finish. Be Happy.). It was simple, but it made me feel safe.

Race day dawns and I plan extra time for everything. I’m starting to really learn what gets me to that “happy” pre-race miracle place, and I had timed everything wonderfully. I pack the car in a jiffy, get the iTrip going, and get on my way. It’s going to be a beautiful day. I get to the Dunkin Donuts, where I’m supposed to meet Jo, and run in for a quick bathroom visit. Perfect. NOW, I can have a good day.

Jo shows up right on time, and we both admit we are a little nervous. We laugh, and get on our way. We get to the race site, register, and find our transition areas. I’m pleased as punch that I YET again have primo space, right on the outside of the row, RIGHT in front of the bike timing mat. I set up my transition area with time to spare (enjoying my calm with iTunes). A good friend of mine had written me a pre-race letter. I read it once. Read it again. Such great advice that I plan to follow to the letter. I find a few more friends in transition: Carol (who had raced IMLP a couple weeks ago) and Laura (who has been QUITE competitive in races past, and swims about once a year – only if she has to…), and also one of the Robins (Cain –great lady, we wished each other luck).

Twelve minutes to go until the race start, and I figure it’s time to head on down to the race site. I catch Jo in the line for the potty, and can tell her stomach is doing major flips. I tell her to try to envision her favorite place, and get relaxed. Not a whole lot of time left, I decide to head down… only to realize that the oly start is WAY the hell down the beach. In the distance, I see the first wave start. Ruh Roh!!! I briefly recall that I’m in the second wave, and that there are only 2 minutes between waves! CRAP!!! Jo comes up next to me and we start our own quadrathon (run-like-heck-swim-bike-run). We get in the water. 30 seconds. Goggles on. Cap on. Head in water. Okay, wait! HOW does this swim go? I only see a single line of buoys. HELP! I frantically ask around. We’re to swim to the end, back again, and then around the buoy we started at to the finish. Guh. That seems long. No time to think about it though! 3-2-1. GO!

Swim: Sooo, the swim is in a river. A shallow, narrow river. So, you could potentially walk the entire swim. And, due to the torrential rain that this area received the previous fall and this spring, it’s a bit of a mess. Thankfully, that doesn’t bother me too much. What DOES bother me is the fact that I keep running into the buoy line, can’t seem to swim straight, and there is A LOT of contact. People are standing when they need to get their bearings, and those of us that are still swimming keep running into them. Then comes the next wave, and the one after that. I get to the first turn around, and feel like I’m in a bit more of a rhythm, when I realize I can’t see a darn thing. I never had time to spit in my goggles so they are fogging up. I give them a half hearted swipe, and get going again. After that it was the sun reflecting off the water… We’re talking the light of GOD here, folks. Can’t see buoys. Can’t see people. Can’t SEE. I just keep swimming, wanting to get finished! Somehow I manage to pass one blue cap near the end, get out, kiss terra firma, and get to my bike. Swim: 27:18

T1 goes pretty fast. No strange gymnastics with the wetsuit. But lots of fighting to get the grass off my feet. Guh. 3:08

Bike: Finally. Now I can start to enjoy this. The day is absolutely beautiful, and I know from having ridden the course a couple of weeks ago, that it’s very picturesque. Coming out of transition is a healthy hill, which doesn’t quite end for a couple of miles. Until mile 4 it’s gently rolling, passing some beautiful sheep farms and countryside. And then I travel into a beautiful cool grove of trees and through a covered bridge (a little tricky to navigate because it’s DARK). There is a great support vehicle right before the bridge BLASTING great tunes, and two guys that are total hams. Out of the bridge is a MONSTER steep hill. Every time I wonder if I can do it again (it’s a 4 loop course). After the monster hill comes some nice down hill, that’s very tempting to absolutely mash (must do this again and again and again). And finally a nice downhill, speeding through the transition area loaded with spectators. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. 3x.

The first loop I try to take it easy. The second and third loops I bring the speed back up, and the fourth loop…. Well just is. I see my speed slowly inch up from 14.6 mph to 15.2 mph. Not too shabby, I think. I kind of notice, however, that I haven’t passed anyone, and EVERYone seems to be passing me. Hmmmmm. The last loop is pretty quiet, and my brain starts to wonder…. Could I possibly be LAST? As I’m going up the hill after the bridge, the runners on the course are going up faster than I can bike. THAT was interesting. Bike: 2:01:00 (15.2 mph)

I finally zoom into transition, realizing that I’m starving. I’ve never had fig newtons during a race, but many times before, so I dig into my post-race food bag and grab two. Smartest thing I did all race, maybe. I chomp on them double deck style, thinking that now would be a great time for them to take my picture. Grab some water to wash them down. T2: 2:13 (I did sorta take my time at this point…)

Running. La la la. Darn, it’s lonely out here. Am I even on the right course? It follows the bike course, for the most part, but did I mention that there is NO one out here? I hope the water stops are still up, as I’m pretty sure that it’s nearing the mid 80s now.

Mile 1 is around 12:00. Oy. I purposely went slow for the first mile, and I’m a little surprised that I actually don’t want to/can’t push any harder. I know there are 6.2 more of them to come. And I have to pee. Badly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a blue truck. I see a guy take down one of the triathlon signs and my heart sinks. I MUST be last. Well, I’m not going to think about that right now. The man pulls up to me and says, “Now, don’t feel bad or anything, you’re doing great, but they tell me that you’re last. I’m going to be pulling down signs behind you and relieving water stops. Don’t mind me, okay, you’re doing great!” UGH. NOOOOOO. I NEVER for a minute thought that I would be last. How could…? Well, the swim sucked. The bike was probably hillier than I gave it credit for (that would be 8 decent hills, since it was 4 loops). The run… well, my goal was always just to finish. So, what’s the problem, right?

But still. Two HUGE tears stream down my face. I realize that maybe I’ll just be the last at everything I attempt (Grad school woes.) Then I get a little angry. Eff this. I’ve had to pee for like EVER. They can all wait for me. I finally find the pull off I have been looking for and honestly it isn’t what I thought it would be. But, I feel better. Physically. Mentally, however…..

Why do I do this? Why not just train? Why do this race bs? HOW could a 15.2 mph bike make me LAST? I suck.

Wait a minute. No I don’t. There have been plenty of races where I’ve finished much better than this. I’m not sure what the deal is, especially since mentally I’ve been ON all day. WhatEVER, dude! So, I’m last NOW. That means that there must be at least a FEW people I can pass up ahead, right? RIGHT! I do NOT want to be last. I still have 5 more miles to run. That’s a lot of real estate. Let’s pick it up.

So, no real clue what my splits are, since my watch died as I was trying to retrieve them after the race, but things were getting better. At the second water stop, I see a blurred figure up ahead. Could it be? At the third water stop, I can tell it’s a girl. Oh, honey. I’m so sorry, but you are a marked woman. Because right now, I’m a woman on a mission. I bet she doesn’t know I’m last. Part of me thinks that maybe we can run in together and then another part of me says no way.

I finally pass her with a mile to go, and give her as much encouragement as I can. I’m starting to bargain with myself. 2 more minutes at this pace. Put some distance between you and her. (I can still hear her feet…). Okay, great. You know, it would be fantastic to finish under 4 hours. Let’s try that. 2 more minutes. Guh. This hurts. Bad.

And then I see another person. Walking. Oh, dude. I’m sorry, but um, I ain’t walking. I pass him with 200 yds to go. Flying. Or at least trying to, thinking that this is really going to hurt tomorrow. Shut up. Who cares about tomorrow? This is today, and I’m on a mission.
The finish clock says 3:59:53…..I run sooooo hard through the shoot, just feeling like I had something to prove. I know in my head I have a 2 minute wave ahead of me, but I want to try it. I miss by :02, but it felt good. Run: 1:24:26 (11:40)

Well, the results say that I only finished in front of one person. I’m guessing that they stopped the clock at 4:00:00, so I guess it’s good that I put the speed on. Whatever. It was my race. My goal was to finish my first Olympic race, and I DID. And, while the run was a bit of an ego bust, I was mostly happy for the rest of the day. I managed to keep my crap together through a pretty stupid swim, had fun on the bike, and pushed myself mentally and physically on the run. Total: 3:58:02

One thing I learned already. Just because it’s your “A” race, does not mean that everything is going to go well.

I decided not to stick around after the race. There was a great bbq going on, and Jo and her friend were heading over. I knew also that I had a pretty decent drive ahead of me, and I was already VERY tired (this makes me think I actually did leave it all out there). On top of it all, I wasn’t feeling incredibly sociable. I didn’t really know what I felt at that moment. I was shocked, I think. A little disappointed, a little stomped on ego-wise. But proud too. It was a strange juxtaposition of feelings that I just needed time to sort out… alone.

So, I’ve sorted. I’m so happy I set out to do this. There will be many more races in the future, and much more learning to be done. I had a great day, and the end result does not change that.

Thanks for reading!!!