Unfit Chick

The Pancake, Staten Island, NY, Saturday, June 12, 2010

So anyway, I got this scratchy throat last week and I immediately panicked. Perfect health all year, and now, just one week before the day I have been training for all these months, this? Sure enough, things went from bad to worse over the next few days. I ended up getting my ass kicked by a head cold with all the fixings — stuffy/runny nose, sore throat, brain fog, no energy — you name it, I had it. Now, some of you may know by now that I don't do meds; not even the over-the-counter kind. So, I obsessively stuffed myself with everything from the health food store, alternating between probiotics and a long list of antimicrobial herbs. Did it help? Hell no! By last Thursday I'd even begun to sound like Joan Rivers.

On Friday night I still had no idea if I was going to race. Still, I pumped up the tires on my bike, packed my wetsuit and went to bed early hoping for a miracle...

It was barely Saturday morning, 2:30 to be exact, when I catapulted myself out of bed. I have no idea why I did that, since the alarm was set for 3, but what the hell, I had to be up at some point. Can you guess what happened? I felt great! Sure, I was tired, but otherwise fine! World's easiest triathlon (and my first), here I come!

I grabbed some toast with almond butter and some raw goat kefir (don't laugh) and headed out. I loaded my bike into a taxi and made my way to the Staten Island Ferry where I met my friend Reba. This was her second triathlon, but her first in open water.

We crossed New York Harbor into Staten Island and biked to the race site, our raging adrenaline and nerves set in stark contrast against the first rays of sunrise over quiet, sleepy suburbia.

Luckily for us, we arrived early and got to pick out choice spots for transition. We leisurely chatted with other triathletes, visited a virgin porta-potty (if in your lifetime you are presented with such a rare opportunity, I highly recommend that you seize it, even if you don't have to go), and scoped out the swim site. Beautiful!

We got back just in time to get marked. My bib number was 300. Could it be more perfect?! I will crush this thing like a Spartan!

It was chilly, so I was more than happy when it came time to put on the wetsuit. Armed with tips gleaned from hours of surfing triathlon porn on YouTube, I came prepared, armed with plastic bags. I slipped them over my feet and slid right into the suit. I looked and felt warrior-like, except I couldn't breathe. Damn, those things are tight!

At the mandatory meeting, we were informed of some good news — the bike route was going to be paved in September! Presently though, we were going to have to deal with the potholes and try not to kill ourselves. The organizer was funny and easygoing, cheekily congratulating us on racing in the easiest triathlon on the east coast while informing us that the only thing that could get you disqualified during the swim would be climbing on the back of another swimmer.

We headed out to the swim start. I was in the third wave. Reba, Tricia (another friend and a super swimmer) and I watched the first wave go out. Some of them were doggy-paddling. Amateurs! 

My wave was up, and as I entered the frigid water, I gave thanks for every penny I spent on that wetsuit. Except for some minor seepage through the zipper, I was toasty warm!

I found a good spot toward center front and waited for the horn. Goggles and nose clip in place, all systems go. And we were off! There was a huge rush forward and I was pulled along, despite myself. I tried to calm down and focus on my stroke, when Wham! Someone's foot landed right in my face. Ok, I'll slow down and try to find an empty spot. No such luck! Again and again I felt kicks on my head, arms and thighs. I guess this is what it feels like to be in a shark tank. Before someone eats you, I mean.

Keeping my head above water to avoid getting kicked, I tried to swim, but I was losing my breath, people were passing me by and I was gulping tons of salty water. Still, this is no time to stop... I just started! Why am I doing this again? What was I thinking?! Anyone wanna buy a lightly used wetsuit? This really sucks. The large orange buoy that signaled the end of the swim was so far off!

On and on I went, my progress painfully slow. Now and then, out of the corner of my eye, I would see someone give up and get out of the water. Oooh, it was so tempting. My goggles were fogged up, I was still terrified to put my face under water, and my neck and back were beginning to hurt. The swim was endless, exhausting and terrifying. I never expected it to be this hard! It took me 19 minutes to swim the 400 yards.

Finally, I felt sand under my feet. Lightheaded and wobbly (though ecstatic), I dragged myself to T1 as I peeled off my wetsuit. Wet, muddy, and spent, I got to my spot, pulled on my shoes, helmet and glasses, grabbed my bike and ran to the bike course.

Slippery and still dizzy, I got on the bike and promptly wiped out... almost. Somehow, I regained my balance, switched to a higher gear and started to pedal. God, that felt good! I was a bit sluggish at first, but then the voice of Mike Galvan (my tri cycling coach) came into my head and I tightened my core, pulled in my elbows, relaxed my shoulders, lowered my heels and put everything I had into it. I love biking! I'm not fast yet and I still don't clip in, but just wait 'til I do! The bike part was a breeze. I can honestly say that I enjoyed it — the wind in my face, the sound of my wheels making that whooshing noise and the rush of the speed...

The twelve miles flew by before I knew it and I was back at T2. On heavy legs, I ran the bike back to my spot. The passive-aggressive primadonna next to me hung up her bike so as to take up both her spot and mine. I shoved it over, racked mine up and took off my bike stuff. A quick drink, some raw manuka honey, and I was off for the run.

When I say off for the run, I mean on wobbly, wooden, painful legs, out of breath, and completely exhausted. (Charles, how the hell do you do an Ironman?) Anyhow, I braced myself for fifteen minutes of torture — the amount of time it takes for me to regain my legs. I promised myself a 30-second walk at every water stop — there were three.

My heart rate shot up to 169 and I had to slow down. If I go above 172, I have trouble recovering and would have had to walk the rest of the race. The first 1.5 miles were hard and keeping my form was tough. My knee started to throb and I was afraid that I was reaching my limit. This was no fun at all! I think I will have to sell most of my gear, because there is no way I am doing this again. Everything hurts, I am so very tired and I can't go another step. All this training, just to fail. I can't believe I am not going to make it...

And then I saw Reba, smiling at me and shaking her head in empathy. She's a much faster runner, but I could see her for a long time after she passed me. Somehow, I regained focus, tightened my core, relaxed my shoulders, straightened my body and pulled my legs up. Ha! My heart rate dropped to 150 and I zoomed to the finish. Where did that come from?!

At the second mile mark, I saw Tricia making her way past the first mile of the loop. She started the race in the sixth wave, 15 minutes after mine. She looked like I felt at that point in the race — tired and in pain. It's hard to remember that the run gets easier after the first couple of miles.

Can I tell you how great it was to see the finish line?! With the end in sight, I felt light, strong and oddly full of energy. 100 yards from the end, I heard "Mommy!" Matt was running along with me, with a smiling Adam in his arms. My son's face was positively beaming.

And I was done. All-out effort and an amazing feeling of accomplishment.

I still can't believe I actually did it!

Swim 400 m 19:10
T1 3:00
Bike 12 mile 43:57
T2 2:05
Run 5K 30:42
1:39:53
434/574