Lo, and Behold!

An old lady with a non-athletic looking body,
who is laden with foot/knee/hip/back ailments
went and got herself 3rd Place in the triathlon today, female age 30-49 division.

(And, for the record, it's totally not fair to be grouped together with those 30 yr. old young chicks!!!)

{Instead of trophies or ribbons, they gave out hard hats with your place printed on it -- because it's LABOR DAY -- ya get it?!?}

Kinda cute...and interesting, but definitely an addition to our costume box! :)

This should be a TESTAMENT to everyone....ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!!!

I Lived to Tell About It!

A.K.A. Bountiful Triathlon - Take 2
(For those of you who are sick of hearing about this, the title and the sub-title is the "Reader's Digest version" and you can stop reading now!)

A couple of weeks ago, my husband called me from work for a "planning session."
"Do we have anything going on August 14th?"
"WHAT? Are you serious?"
"I take it we DO?"
"Uhhh...it's my Triathlon!!"
"Ohhh....yeah...."
It's only the culminating event of the whole entire summer, but I guess when YOU'RE NOT the one doing all the training, it's easy to forget. (?) (?) (?)

Last year, when I posted about the Bountiful Tri(bi)athlon that I did, I got several comments from others saying that they would maybe do it with me next year. (Which is now this year.) Do you remember who you are? Are you curious WHO said they would? Go ahead, go check. ;) I was actually surprised to get so many such responses, since most peoples' response to my triathlon goal include the words "crazy" or "WHY?" or "mentally unstable" or something similar. Well, I DID end up personally inviting (emailing) ONE of those comment-ers from last year to do it with me this year -- and to my delight, she accepted! I'll call her "Jill." Because that really IS her name - REALLY! :) My whole motivation behind doing the WHOLE Tri (including the swimming part this time around) was because of the "BIG Birthday" that's coming up for me this year and I need to prove to myself that I'm not old. Jill, being 11 years my junior, has yet to know the definition of "old" so, was motivated by just pure friendship! OK, everyone together, tenderly say, "Aaahhh!"

Last year, I did it as a relay and only did two of the three events: running and biking. This year, I made a goal to do the whole thing - including swimming. GULP! (My own personal demon.) Last year, I also had an unfortunate "incident" with the bike which kind of soured the experience for me. This year, I wanted the whole thing to go smoothly. So, equipped with a new bike that Santa surprised me with, a new bike helmet my son, Ryan, got me for Mother's Day, REAL Triathlon wear, a 25 lb. weight loss since then, and a whole year to "WANT IT" I had high hopes for a successful Tri.

So, this years' experience started the Tuesday before the Saturday Triathlon. That was the day I did my last 3-event workout, run-bike-swim, but I did it in "miniature" (not the full length/time of the actual event) before the Triathlon. And so I was blessed (?) with dreaming about doing those three events all night long - on Tuesday. And on Wednesday. And again on Thursday.

But, on Friday night, I decided to do something about it! I decided to medicate myself the night before the race, to get a good night's sleep. Well......

TWO ADVIL PM HAD NO POWER OVER ME!

Sleep I did not! And when I did, I had dreams that all ended in disaster! As I mentioned in my "100th Post" (#11) that common can't-get-something-accomplished-dream popped up again!

This time, I was trying to get to the Triathlon, but for some reason, I was downtown in the middle of a big city festival/parade of sorts. I'm not even sure if it was in my state/area. It seemed like a much bigger city. And, of course, every route I tried to take, I was getting blocked by all the crowds. There just wasn't a way around all the people in the Festival - and time was ticking away, and the Triathlon start time was quickly approaching.

Another dream I remember was that I was sitting at home about 4:00 on Sunday afternoon. All of a sudden, I look at the clock, and panic as I'm overcome with realization. "Did I miss the Triathlon?" I desperately ask Matt in the dream. I could tell by the look on his face that he KNEW, but he didn't want to break it to me. He gave me an all-knowing nod of his head to confirm the ugly truth. In the dream, I was so mad! All that training for nothing!

But, that pre-event night of torture finally ended and I made it to the actual venue - early!

...And got the "Marks of a Triathlete."

One leg shows my age and the other my race number. (You BETTER get which number is which, RIGHT!) Some people might not want to "advertise" their age, but I gotta hang on to this number as long as possible! :) It is kind of fun and interesting to look at all the other racers' ages - the youngest I saw: 11 (boy & girl). The oldest: 76 (man).

One other thing that was nerve racking was that Jill & I had thought that it was a 3 mile run, a 10 or 11 mile bike, and a 350m swim. When we picked up our race packet, we found out it was officially a 3.35 mile run and a 11.35 mile bike, and (thankfully) we were correct about the swim! You may not think that .35 is a big deal at all - BUT IT IS! (Psychologically more than physically perhaps, and this is a BIG psychological game!)

...We racked our bikes and set up our "transition station."

...And pinned on our race numbers and SMILED while we still could! ;)

(Jill's dad, Dan, ended up making practically a "race-day decision" and came down from Idaho to do it with her - awesome! - even though he doesn't swim (everyones' [including mine] favorite excuse) - double awesome!)

...They did the countdown, and the race started.

...we were off running.

It was a beautiful day for a run - just about 2 hours LATE! It started at 8:30a.m. which makes it too hot for comfort, IMO. Sunny skies past 7 or 8 in the morning is like kryptonite for this runner! My favorite sight (besides seeing my family at their "secret spot" right here on Main St. AND seeing the finish line) was seeing a parked car on the side of the route. It's back window was painted with the quote for us,

"If you CAN BELIEVE, you CAN ACHIEVE!"

Transition 1: Pour water over the top of your head (and down your back as a side effect) since I'm not coordinated enough to drink & run at the same time. Next thing: Grab your bike helmet and put it on.

The "professionals" also have to take off their running shoes and put on their biking shoes at this point. But, I'm NOT a professional, so for me,

Running shoes = Biking shoes. SIMPLE MATH! :)

Then you have to walk/run your bike to the designated "mounting spot" and your T1 time ends and your bike time begins.

Many people have asked me what kind of a new bike I got. To which I always answered, "Pink." Isn't she cute? ;)

Even though I was more confident because I felt my new bike would take care of the problems I had last year, I had not anticipated the feelings that getting on the bike in the Tri would bring back to me! As I rode away on my bike, the unwelcomed, haunting experience of last year came into my mind.

Then when I came upon that actual fateful corner in the route that the "incident" occurred last year, I had a flashback of the whole thing. But, I rode on through without anything happening. Phew!

A little further down the road, I did see a woman from the tri, crouched down on the side changing out her tire tube. I seriously wanted to cry for her! It was HER having the "incident" this year - and I could relate. (Come to think of it, she was probably one of those who passed me on the bike later on in the race, so I didn't need to be feeling sorry for her, after all. :)) But, witnessing that left me feeling uneasy about the stability of my own biking luck.

Later, the route takes us passed a bike store named, "Saturday Cycles" (since they're only open on Saturdays) - they are the ones who actually assembled my new bike. Two of it's workers were out front watching our race. As I biked by, I had the thought, "If anything bad is going to happen [with me and my bike], this would be a good place for it to happen!" But, nothing did, and as I got further away from the security of Saturday Cycles, I prayed I wouldn't need their help anyway!

At one point in the bike portion, I was just thinking about how WELL it was going (i.e. no disasters, not referring to my speed, I was getting passed by quite a few bikers) and I felt so grateful. I also thought about how I WAS DOING THE WHOLE TRI, and I got choked up, and I think if I hadn't already sweated out all my moisture, tears WOULD'VE dropped. Who says Triathlons are all a test of physical skill? So, I just kept pedaling for the unannounced 11.35 miles and finished that part of it - WITHOUT "incident."

BUT, as I turned onto 200 West, the last stretch of road before returning to the transition station for the final event (swimming), I felt like I was going to THROW UP! Seriously. It was like the reality of what was next hit me. And THAT scared me to death!

...and that's not an understatement...as you can see by the look on my face as I was "in transition" (T2) from racking my bike, declothing (well, just my shoes, socks, & shirt), putting on my swim cap & goggles, and running into the pool (just beyond this photo frame.)

Could I just veer off to my right about now, exit the race, and run over to Matt instead of to the pool?

No, instead of quitting, let's just get this over with!

And so I just jumped right in the pool...and went down, down, down - expecting to push off the bottom at any time! I never hit the bottom. I, somehow, did not know that this pool was going to be DEEP! And I hate being in deep water! I kicked like mad to get back to the top. Frazzled by that unknown. I started to "swim" and thought, This water sure is murky! And then I realized I had jumped in before pulling my goggles down on my eyes - they were still on my head! So, I swam to the side of the pool, held onto the edge (because I was NOT going to tread deep water!), put on my goggles, and then started to swim again.

I had been warned ahead of time by my sister about the swimming conditions in a Triathlon. Which is this: there are so many swimmers in the same limited lane space that you are kicked and hit by everyone else's legs and arms. She told me that others may swim over the top of me and that I could be "dunked" as their moving arms pushed me down under the water. THAT was my biggest fear, being the frightened, afraid-of-drowning, non-swimmer that I am! Even though I was prepared for this, unfortunately, it happened just like she said it would!

But, what I was not prepared for was this:

I was NOT prepared for how "HARD" actually felt.

I knew it would be hard. After all, my mantra is "I Can Do Hard Things." But, after running and biking the full distance (and faster than usual) I was not prepared for how hard, physically, it would be to swim. My legs had no strength! And that slightly interferes with the kicking part of swimming! It was A LOT easier/smoother during training in my semi-private lane at my hometown pool. And that throws off your psyche!

...but, I knew swimming each lane brought me one lane closer to the finish, so that's what I did.
Look! That's me in the closest lane, black cap & suit, with my face IN THE WATER!
YOU, my friends, are witnessing a miracle!
(Because up until this Summer, I did not do that.)

In fact, I believe I may be the ONLY person with my face IN THE WATER in this picture frame. So, swim...swim....swim...225m in the first pool.

Can I just say how hard it was to pull myself out of that first pool? Just look for yourselves! I struggled to get out, (Legs still not working) then walked over to the neighboring pool to swim the last 125m.

THE SWIM IS OVER!
And I survived.
This is what "SPENT" looks like.
(Physically, psychologically, & emotionally)

But, while in this "dying position," I heard Jill yelling, "You're not done yet. Hurry! Get up! Get up and go cross the Finish Line!" (It was another 10 yards away down the pool deck.)
And so I obeyed her and did. Finish time: 1:41.
And then I leaned against the wall - for a long time - and breathed in-and-out, in-and-out. I HAD DONE IT! And then a volunteer made a special delivery of a garbage can over to me - apparently, he thought it looked like I was going to puke!

...A Happy Time - we're done!

(I had a better photo to post, but Jill banned it from the blog world - we were still in our swimming attire! :))

Mine & Jill's kids (seen in the background) ate our share of the post-race refreshments - it was OK since I was kind of repulsed by the thought of food!

Here's a shot afterwards of me and my trusty bike.

MY MAGIC BIKE!

*kiss, kiss*

Thank you for seeing me through!

THE END.

*****

But, it's not really the end. There's something else on my mind, and quite honestly, I don't really feel like sharing it for fear it will be judged in a way I don't intend. I had set a goal to complete a whole Triathlon. I faced my 30+ year old fear of swimming. I trained all summer and was fortunate enough to have Jill train with me about 3X/week. I even cut 6 minutes off my run time year over year. I cut 5:15 off my bike time year over year, and I (not a relay team member) I swam it myself. And I didn't drown. Jill, Dan & I all shared a group hug on the pool deck when we'd all finished. Short of holding hands in a circle with all the participants and singing Cumbayah, it was a great, successful first Triathlon for me.

And then I came home.

Feeling good.

Me talking about it and reliving it.

The family all sharing details they could remember.

Matt telling me "it was so inspiring." Confessing he choked up a couple of times watching me swim.

The High.

Fading.

ZZzzzz....

So why is there something nagging, some portion of dissatisfaction that hangs around in my head? I can't shake the feeling that it wasn't really good enough, which is confusing since I accomplished my goal. What is my problem? Am I just high-maintenance? Ungrateful? Spoiled? Impracticle? Pessimistic? Perfectionist?

It's like after the fact, I changed my goal. And now I'm measuring myself against the new "standard." For Example, when I looked at my bike time closer, I realized that last year's bike time included all the time it took to fix my bike problem, so when you take that into consideration, maybe I didn't really bike faster this year - maybe even slower. Why can't I recognize that I did it non-stop this time - and the distance was further - which should count for something? Also, now, I'm wishing I could've completed the Tri without it feeling hard. I'm disappointed that even though I followed the training program (the hard part), I wasn't prepared for how HARD the event (which is suppose to be the "pay off" fun part) would feel. Even the other participants I talked to afterwards (including the 1st Place Overall Female, my cousin's wife) ALSO said that swimmming at the end of a Tri is difficult and they struggled and had to adjust, too. But, somehow, I won't let myself have that "excuse." It's like I want the swim to feel like it felt when I was training. Logically, I can say that, of course, a swim workout done alone (without other events) is going to be MUCH easier than when done on the tail end of a Triathlon, but I just must be illogical. How does a girl who accomplished what she set out to do still find a way to be anything but ecstatic?

I told you. I should've just ended the post with a shot of my pink bike.

Random Question of the Week

How much weight would you guess a person would lose while training for a Triathlon all Summer?

Let me give you with the details...

RUN two times a week...

BIKE two times a week...

SWIM three to four times a week...
ALL Summer so far.

{That amounts to double or triple workouts on some days.}

So, what d'ya think? How much?

9 pounds?

13 pounds?

18 pounds?

Nope...those are all wrong!

Try a weight gain! (To the tune of 7.6 lbs.)

Aaaauugh!

WHAT THE ??????

It scares me to think what would've been had I NOT been training!

And what's gonna happen in 4 days in my "Life after Triathlon" when the training significantly lessens (or stops)?

I Passed up the Root Beer Float

....for Family Night treat on Monday

...as visions of dressing room mirrors flashed through my head.

(I DO realize the real word in the poem is "danced," but that word has a joyful, upbeat connotation to me -- and that would be a very inaccurate way to describe my experience!)

With my Triathlon only three weeks away, I decided it was time (overdue, in fact) to get me some Triathlon clothes. Are they even called, "clothes?" Should I be using a more official name? Like "Gear?" "Outfit?" "Triathlon wear?" My novice-ness is really showing through, huh?!? Anyway, I needed a "get up" that I could wear for all three events without changing, so I could run-bike-swim without stopping [at tremendous speed] because wearing a swim suit underneath shorts and a T-shirt to run and bike in is NOT my idea of comfort and fun! Wedgie, anyone? How about a good dose of "rubbing rash?" Got sweat? [in a swim suit.] And let's throw in the bouncin' bosom, as well! :)

So, I forced took my [supportive] chauffeur husband with me on the quest. As we're wandering around the first store, an employee asks if we need help. My husband asks where the Triathlon clothing is, so the employee takes us there....to the Men's. Matt had to inform him that we were there for ME and we needed the womens' department!

NOW, WHY DID THAT EMPLOYEE ASSUME THAT I WOULD NOT BE DOING A TRIATHLON??!!??

I know the answer.

Look at Matt: Tall, strong, lean machine. Look at Me: Not exactly the picture of a Triathlete.

BUT, I CAN DO HARD THINGS!

Nevertheless, not a real positive start to our shopping experience. Thoughts of "Maybe I shouldn't try to do this" entered my mind.

The first thing that employee shows to me is the "Tri Suit."

What? Is he just trying to make a mockery of me, now?

Oh, NO, NO, NO. I will not go there! No Thanks. NO WAY. NO HOW!

That reminds me of Summer Olympics track too much! Jackie Joyner-Kersee can pull it off -- but let's be honest, NOBODY wants to see me in that.

I wanted to stick with the two-pieced ones, thank you very much. Shorts (8" vs. 4") AND a [full-coverage] top with ample support just seem to provide better security for me.

Problem #2: Since Triathletes are mostly little, skinny, tiny, itty-bitty, lacking in fat, toned, void of flab, slender, small, slim little buggers -- so are the clothes that stores put on their racks to sell to them. Size XXS, XS, and S were available in plenty. Most sizes above that were in short supply! :( At a different store, one employee even referred me to the men's rack as well since "the tops run small."

"What am I doing?" thoughts popped in my mind.

When we went up to make the purchase, the cashier wanted to enter our "profile" into the computer. The employee started asking Matt for HIS name and contact information - to which my husband, again, had to direct their attention to me.

Hello!! Yoo Hoo! Is it too much to even consider? Muscle man over there is NOT the one doing the Triathlon, it's Pillsbury Dough-girl, here!

Should the fact that two different "fitness expert-ish" employees didn't have any confidence in me, be giving me a "plex?" Little do they know that sometimes I make Matt bike or run with me - and I'm continually turning around, looking back to find him since he's unable to keep up. (At least that's his story - I personally think it's his way of getting out of having to talk to me the whole time!)

Anyway, I'm not quite sure which was the bigger shocker.....
The way those tri shorts made my legs look like sausages oozing out of them or the $70 ticket price they carried (on each piece!)

Ouch to both!

****

I did swim the furthest/longest I've ever swam today -- 30 laps! And I did it in approximately double the time that everyone else there did it. woo hoo! ;)

Facing My Fears

I got in the pool for the first time today.
{Sorry, no photo available...Or maybe I should say, You're Welcome!}

To attempt swimming.

Like REAL swimming.

As in the kind of swimming I don't do - the kind that requires me to be in water deeper than I am tall AND to put my face IN the water. The kind that I'm at risk for drowning while trying!

I don't do it because I am totally afraid of it!

Totally afraid of it because of a traumatic experience I had back in grade school that completely negated ALL those years of swimming lessons my Mom had put me through!

GONE! Gone is everything I ever learned swimming-wise because I suffer from a psychological block in that department.

I alluded to this problem briefly in my "100th Post" last year that featured 100 things about me, but here's what happened in detail:

{Insert the mysterious movie music at this point}

My family was at an event in a big park. It must have been a Company activity or maybe a group of my parents' friends, since I didn't know a lot of the people in attendance. A bunch of us kids there kind of migrated together, wondered off from the adults, started playing and found some things to do.

There was this canal/cement-lined ditch of sorts that we discovered running through the park that had some water flowing down it. As is frequently the case with kids, we were drawn to the water. Water is a "Kid-magnet" I tell you - they just can't leave it alone! It's true now and it was true back then. It all started out casually, just throwing some grass and sticks into the flowing water and watching them float on down the canal. Then the next thing we knew we were dipping our feet in the water. Which turned into us actually standing IN the water. The water was only about up to our ankles, so no biggie. We then started trying to make dams with our hands, then with sticks and stones, then with our bodies, by sitting down in the ditch and putting our legs out straight to the other side. You get the picture, little by little we were getting more & more into the water. Pretty soon we decided it would make a good water slide if you sat down on the slippery [moss-lined] cement bottom and took a ride down the canal. We only rode 50 feet or so and then we'd climb out onto the banks, walk back up to the starting point and do it again. It really was a lot of fun! And the adults had no idea we were doing this. I, myself, did it many times! Some of the other kids started leaving, but a few of us stayed, taking turns down our "water slide."

And then came that final near-fatal run....

I started riding down, as usual, enjoying myself. I'm not sure if, some kids upstream were still making (& releasing) dams or if at that time of day the water naturally started flowing stronger, or what, but it was starting to be a very fast "water slide" ride.

The water swept me away on my usual 50 foot ride at tremendous speed. I attempted to get out at our own specified "finish line" mark, but I couldn't stop! I tried to stand, but I was just pushed down again by the water. The kids on the bank surely saw the look of terror on my face and started yelling, "Get out! Get out!" as they were running along beside me. I looked for something to grab on to - there was nothing - nothing but wimpy grass/weeds that broke off when I grabbed on. I tried one side and then the other - nothing sturdy to reach for on either side of the bank. And I just kept cruising down the canal. The fear. OH, the fear! The reason we had gotten out at that 50 foot mark in the first place, was because this canal emptied into an underground water reservoir of some sort. The running water from the canal dropped off, maybe 3 feet, into an area that had cement walls on all sides AND a cement ceiling - so it was kind of like a cement room. A cement room that anyone who kept going down, and didn't get out, would be whisked into only to become a prisoner until death! I could only imagine what happened to the water once it got in there...went down a scary, dark, gross, drain infested with rats/snakes/deadly spiders/poisonous creatures?!? A drain that would suck a young person, like myself, towards and prevent me from staying above the surface until a rescuer came. But, how would a rescuer even be able to get in & out of this underground "cement room?" And then there was the possibility of the water rising so much that there would be no air space between the top of the water and the cement ceiling. So, even if a person could tread water for that long, and avoided the high suctioned drain, there was NO WAY for them to keep their head above water. So, pretty much, if a person got in there....there was NO surviving it! Drowning was inevitable!! And here I was approaching my final DOOM! Coming speedily right into the mouth of my killer. The fear. OH, the fear!

I tried to escape, I just couldn't. I made one futile attempt after another to get out - the water was just stronger than I.

I saw the trees lining the banks just zooming on by. As total desperateness took over, it all became a blur, the kids yelling to me, the other kids running, the scenery flashing by.

Can you say, "Heart Racing?"

I remember thinking, This is it. This is my last moment on earth. So, this is how I will die. I am going to drown!

In a last ditch effort, I reached over with both of my hands to one side and dug my fingers into the muddy bank. I can still see in my mind's eye the trail of lines in the mud that my fingers made as the water continued to push me down that blasted "water slide." I was running out of ideas. I was running out of time! But, if I was taught anything in my youth, I was taught this: I. WILL. NOT. GIVE. UP!

I tried to dig deeper into the mud, it felt like the tips of my fingers were rubbing raw, but even that resistance was unable to stop me, but....

...but, it was able to slow my speed just a bit....

...just enough for the kids running along side me to catch up to me, keep up with my "pace" and to reach out their hands to me...

I didn't know if letting off my "finger brakes" in the mud would send me rushing down the canal too fast again. Should I reach up and take one of their hands?

What did I have to lose? I was currently on the Fast Track to my demise.

I compromised. I took one hand out of the mud and left one in. I did start going faster again which made it difficult for the kids' hand and my hand to connect.

I had almost reached the underground cement room.

Someone grabbed my hand. I was dragging them with me. More blur...kids yelling, hands reaching, pulling, [short] life flashing before my eyes.

Amongst the commotion, I did hear one of them say, "Give me both your hands!"

I was SOOOO close to the underground drop off. I took a leap of faith and let go of the mud with my other hand, reached up, and with a collective effort of all those kids, they somehow pulled me out - JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME!

I layed on the bank of the canal for a while - totally spent!

Eventually, we walked back to the oblivious adults and told them what happened.
And then we went home.

{End dramatic movie music here}


And I have never been able to swim since!

Because my mom was sick of hearing me say I couldn't swim, she made me take swimming lessons again before I was allowed to get my Driver's License. You've heard of some boys being required to get their Eagle Scout Award before they can get their Driver's License - that's what my brothers had to do....Me? I had to take swimming lessons. (Not sure if any of my sisters ever had to do anything to earn that prize?) So, there's 16 yr. old me in a class with all these other kids no older than 8! Let's just add trauma on top of trauma, why don't we? I'll just say no progress was made in breaking my psychological block!

So, here we are today, 30 years after the near-drowning experience that ended my swimming career and I'm training for a Triathlon.

As in RUN. BIKE. SWIM.

Which requires me to SWIM!

And did I mention, I can't swim?

Every time I think about it, I almost cry! Seriously.

But, here's my mantra, "I Can Do Hard Things."

It's time to face my 30-Year Old FEAR! In fact, let's just get rid of it.

I don't give my kids a pass from doing hard things. All the time they're faced with things they've never done before. Things they're not comfortable with. Things they have to work for. Things they're not particularly good at. And it's good for them to see me doing it too.
I was always bugged by all those moms who wouldn't ever do anything with us kids. Wouldn't get in the pool. Wouldn't ride the wave runner. Wouldn't go on any hikes. Wouldn't play tennis. Wouldn't run races. Wouldn't water ski. (Ironically, I got to be a pretty good water skier back in the day, BUT you do that with a LIFE JACKET! Do you think they would allow those in the Triathlon?) Anyway, you get the picture....I didn't want to be one of those moms who quit doing anything non-Mom-ish when they became a Mom.
It's not like I've never done anything hard. I do. A lot, actually.
It's just that THIS is the Grand Daddy of all hard things [for me.] (And then none of my kids would ever have any excuse ever again!)

OR you could just blame it on that BIG Birthday I have coming up this year - a "midlife crisis" of sorts. I've gotta prove I'm NOT old, ya know! ;) 10 years ago, on that BIG Birthday (which now seems totally young to me!) I ran a marathon to prove I wasn't old. But, this time, I dare say will be even harder, even MORE of a challenge. And don't get me wrong, the marathon [& training] was very hard, but it had been a long time goal of mine, I had visualized myself doing it one day - it was not something that I had ever deemed, "impossible" like I have swimming!

Have I told you lately that I don't [can't] swim?

Last year I got myself a swimmer and did the Triathlon as a Relay.
This year, I'm doing it all on my own!

Gulp!

So, now I have a date with the pool 4X a week for the next 10 weeks. This morning when I got up and remembered that today was the day I was going to the pool, I about cried.

But, I went anyway. And took my time keeper, Katelyn (and for moral support!) The water felt surprisingly warm! A nice welcome. And on the positive side, half the length of the pool was in a depth I could touch the bottom.

I started with a "side stroke." Pretty much a doggie paddle on my side - no face-in-the-water required. Down & back. Two minutes down, just 10 more to go! I did it, but my heart was a-pumpin'! Only thing is, that stroke is not really what people do in Triathlons. But, it's about baby steps, right?!?

Next, I did the back stroke. Also, a no-face-in-the-water required choice. Also, not a typical Triathlon stroke. But, my heart was sure getting a workout! Was it from the strenuous exercise OR was I having a physical reaction to my psychological problem? Or worse, a heart attack?

And then my friend arrived. I figured it was time for the real thing - the front crawl. I told her I was expecting her to save me, if neccessary. I watched the others around me. Arm, arm, breathe. Right, left, breathe. Reach, reach, breathe. OK...deep breath...Go! I pushed off from the wall and started....and ran into the lane rope...and corrected myself...and ran into the lane rope again...and corrected myself... Once I made it to the other end, my friend informed me it might be easier if I swam with my eyes OPEN! Oh.....well, then I would be aware of what I was doing and where I was, and I'm not so sure I was OK with that! :)

In the end, I did a total of 3 laps of front crawl - well, my version of it, I don't know if you'd call it that. I do know that there was a whole lotta of sputtering going on...sorry to whoever used the pool after I did - what they don't know, won't hurt them, right? So, just picture that person in the pool, splashin' around, with their hair all in their face & eyes, gasping for air...and that was ME today! By no means was it pretty, BUT, I'm here to tell about it - I didn't drown!

Why does HE make it look so easy?

Him.

Me.

Him.

Me.

What's wrong with this picture?

Man, my heart still is sore! I have a feeling it wasn't just from the cardio, it was the psychological and emotional exertion as well.

And I'm going back again tomorrow! (I just gotta figure out how to hold my hair back better.)

Bountiful Triathlon

Such a "creative" title, huh?!? :)

About 5 months ago, my sister, Beeb, (a.k.a. Marianne) invited our whole family to participate in the Bountiful Triathlon with her. If you remember from my "100th Post" (#24), I can't swim. I promptly replied to her invitation with the "I. WOULD. DROWN." rationale, surely thinking that would get me "off the hook." NOPE. Beeb, not known to give up that easily when she really wants something, contacted me about a week later and told me she had found me a "swimmer," so I was good to go as a relay team! (She had to keep me -- as it turned out, only ONE brother-in-law and myself out of a family of 34 accepted her invitation.)


And that's how the background story goes about how I got to this point.

I don't even own a bike. (Slight problem!) But, a few years ago, my husband's parents gave him back his old Schwinn from when he was about 12 yrs. old or so. It's been hanging from a hook on our garage ceiling ever since. By process of elimination, I decided that THAT was the bike I'd use for the Triathlon.

And since I didn't have a bike, you can safely assume that I don't even own a helmet, either. Hey, Ryan has one, so THAT'S what I decided to use for the Triathlon!

The first time I took it out for a ride, I was a bit nervous -- after all, I hadn't ridden a [non-stationary] bike since my mission. But, it's true what they say, "...it's just like riding a bike..." and it all came back to me. Well, at least, after I wobbly made it down the hill for a street that I live on!

After several training bike rides, I got a flat tire once while out riding. Another fancy schmancy biking girl came by and asked if I needed help. She not only had the "official" biking attire, but she ALSO had a sort of fanny pack on her bike with an extra tire tube in it and a tire pump attached to a bar on her bike. She attempted to help me, but the ol' Schwinn is so old, that her modern, fine pump was "incompatible" with my....I don't even know what the correct name for it is....it's the thingy that sticks up from the tire that you attach the pump to...ya know what I'm talking about? Well, I didn't even know there were different sizes and that one pump DOESN'T fit all! Well, there I was still stranded and the biking girl kind of chastised me. She told me that I needed to carry a pump. She told me that I needed to have my own sort of fanny pack with a spare tube, a CO2 cartridge (or something?), a cell phone, a credit card, AND to carry water. NONE OF WHICH I HAD! And she didn't say this, but she probably wanted to: "And you need to get rid of your lame shorts & T-shirt, too!" I'm like, It's not like I'm a professional or anything!!

So, that gives you an idea of what kind of "athlete" I am, entering the Tri(bi)athlon world!

In all my experience in running races in the past, there has always been "casual runners" who also enter the events. Not everyone is like the Kenyans who WIN all the races (and absolutely smoke the rest of us!) So, basically, there are a good number of people who are "average" amongst my running peers. BUT, the thing that worried me about the Triathlon was that these people were "real athletes!" I mean, the whole challenge of a Triathlon is that you have to be a "3 sport athlete" to be able to do it. I felt like I was NOT in their "league." I thought that triathlons were outside of my "athletic range." (Well, they are - I can't swim, but everyone else there CAN do all 3!)

Anyway, I trained. Not at Olympic speed, but I trained. (Thanks to Jill for humoring me and training with me and allowing me to "change up" our usual workouts that we had become accustomed to.)

In the days leading up to the Triathlon, I was at a Family Outing with my sister who conned, er, uh, I mean, invited me to do this and my brother-in-law who also was entered, and they found out that I don't even have any biking shorts! They were amazed. Shocked. Horrified. Again, I'm not a professional! After their reaction, I didn't dare tell them that I was using running shoes that I've had for at least 5 years and socks that were also a few years old!! ;)

In an effort to do things a little bit right, I did try a couple of sporting goods stores after I got home from the Family Outing (the day before the Triathlon), but they didn't have any biking shorts. It was too late to go to a "Bike Shop" that closes early.

The event director also sent out an email the day before with all the deets....He said something about wearing your running shoes, but setting up your "transition area" with your biking shoes. HUH?!? There's a difference? Again, NOT a professional! ;)

So, I show up to the Triathlon in the morning, in my "regular" shorts, with one pair of shoes and park my old Schwinn (with a hole in the handle bar foam) and hang up my 13 yr. old's bike helmet on it. My brother-in-law informs me that the bike next to his is probably a $5,000 -$6,000 bike! And then I notice the set up of another athlete's "transition area"...a towel laid out, with the biking shoes, various gu's, power bars, salves, gloves, etc., etc. arranged just so on top. It SCREAMED, "I am a professional!" And, again, I acknowledged: I AM NOT!

And did I mention it started to rain? We'd gotten another email the day before stating that there was a 30-40% chance of rain, but we'd go on with the event. And, because Murphy rules my life, of course, the "chance" became a reality! :)

Anyway, are you wondering if I'm ever going to get to the actual event?

Well, I am.

This triathlon was a "sprint" which means only a 5K run, a 10.5 mile bike, and a 350m swim. It was in a Run-Bike-Swim order. This is reversed from "usual" Triathlons. So, my swimmer just had to WAIT (& wait) for me!
I ran - and I felt good. I ran every bit of it, which was my goal. (In my training, I always had walked for a minute or two, so this is something I had not done before!)

Some of my favorite parts of the run were:
* A family relay team had made up T-shirts with a picture of a Transformers head on the back. The caption: "Transforming couch potatoes into All-Star athletes." :)

* An old man out walking on the sidewalk, in jeans pulled up above his waist, cinched with a belt and wearing a long-sleeved shirt (in August) and stooped over. He raised his arm and waved at me (okay, maybe it was all of us) enthusiastically and called out, "You look great! Keep up the good work!"

* About six young kids (like under age 7) were lined up on the side of the road with their hands out for me to go by and give them "fives" as I passed - just like the NBA players do when they run out!

* My family drove by in the Suburban along the way and cheered out the window. They parked up ahead and got out of the car and took photos (or at least Ryan tried as he ran on the sidewalk next to me!)

* As I was approaching the finish line of the run, I heard Brett (another brother-in-law) belt out, "GO SUZ!" Two of my sister's whole family's were there, so then as I neared the end, I heard a lot of, "Yeah, Aunt Suz's!" from my nieces & nephews. My sister, Michelle, and my Dad was also heard from somewhere along the sidelines. I'm sure it was all just "charity cheers" but it was good to hear! As a side note, my Dad had driven my Mom all the way back to St. George following our outing on Friday night, then turned around and drove all the way back up here so he could be there for the Triathlon! Yah...he's proud of his kids! :)

So, then on to the biking portion. It felt good to be DONE running and get on the bike and speed (well, by my standards) away. The breeze cooled me off and it was refreshing (the rain had stopped, but we'd been warned about slick road conditions!)

So, I'm going along...and I hadn't gone far when I see the first biker pass me, going the opposite direction, RETURNING back to the "transition area" at the end of his ride. WHOA! He was 10 miles ahead of me - literally! But, I go on. Pedaling and pedaling and pedaling.... AND THEN...(you knew it was coming, didn't ya?)

MY CHAIN FELL OFF!

What the...? It not only fell off, but it got lodged/jammed in between the bike frame. I had to pull over and STOP to fix it. Are you kidding me? Can't Murphy even take a "rest" for my first tri(bi)athlon?

I pulled and I yanked and tugged...and nothing. A minute goes by.

I detached the front part of the chain to give me some more "slack"...and nothing. I was sitting there on the sidewalk and all these other bikers were passing by.

Tugging, pulling, yanking. Another minute goes by.

I think, "If only I had my cell phone, I'd call Matt to 'come to the rescue.'" And that fancy schmancy biker girl's chastisement from months before came back into my mind!

Pulling, yanking, tugging. Three, four minutes go by.

One other triathlete asks in passing, "Are you OK?" I told him my chain fell off - and he nods and goes on. Well, of course, he's got his own triathlon to complete.

Yanking, tugging, pulling. Five, six minutes go by.

I think I need some sort of "tool" to knock it out of there. I look around and find a little twig - which just broke so easily when I tried it.

Tugging, pulling, yanking. Seven minutes go by.

I start to weigh out my options. Does this mean I have to quit? I am NOT a quitter! What about Allen, my "swimmer?" He is waiting for me to finish! I can't let him down. Do I have to just walk my bike back to the start and find help? Can you walk a bike with the chain off? That would take too much time. I definitely don't want to quit.

Pulling, yanking, tugging. Eight minutes go by.

I look in the gutter for anything else that can help - all I see is a cigarette butt.

Yanking, tugging, pulling. Nine minutes.

I was by the intersection where policemen where directing/stopping traffic for the triathletes. I called out to one of them, "Do you have any tools?" Nope. I thought it was their job to help! :(

Tugging, yanking, pulling. Nine minutes, 45 seconds.

The thought comes to me, "You've got to pray." And, there on the sidewalk with a "bike down," I prayed in my mind, simply, "Heavenly Father, PLEASE let this chain come out!"

Pulling, yanking, tugging. Ten minutes.

THEN, Two angels in the form of an older couple came biking by from the other direction (not part of the triathlon.) I asked them if they had some tools -- and they said, "YES!" The woman asked what was going on and when I told them it was a triathlon, they didn't even know, but the man said, "Well, let's get you on your way!" He went to work (without tools) and, by golly, the chain became unstuck and we got it back on! They told me to try it out - and it worked - and I WAS on my way. But, not before I yelled, "Thank You!" You were an answer to my prayer!

I was so happy to be riding again, but even happier that my answer was immediate and obvious!

Down, but not out, I knew I was way behind by now, so I pedaled faster than I'd ever done in training. All the while, afraid to change gears for fear that the chain on the ol' Schwinn might fail me again. Afterwards, when I saw my biking time results, I found even with the stop, it was a faster time than I'd ever biked that distance before. In fact, if you take out the 10 min. stop, the time remaining is 20 min. lower than my "usual" 10.5 mile bike time.

I was able to pass several people - granted most of them were not my fellow triathletes, but just "regular" bikers out on the Legacy Parkway trail. So, I was able to call out, "On your left" quite a bit anyways, so it felt like I was doing something.

My same cheerleading section (plus some of Beeb's In laws) was there to bring me on home. Again, thank you for the "courtesy cheers!" Because the biking "traffic" had died down some by this time, there were people walking across the road where I was coming in. It cracked me up that the "Mama Bear" instinct came out in my sister, Michelle, and she YELLED to those people, "GET OUT OF THE ROAD! YOU'RE IN THE WAY." :)

I got off my bike and my "rubber legs" just about didn't hold me. My "swimmer" approached me and I bent down to pull off my ankle band timing chip (the "baton") to give to him and for a minute I thought I might black out before I made it back standing up. Thankfully, he put the ankle band on himself because I don't think I could have.

I went and watched him swim -- so glad that it was HIM and NOT me! He made it look so graceful, precise, effortless - that I almost thought, "I could do that!" But, then I came back to reality and admitted, "no, I can't." It was such a load off that I had me a "swimmer." We finished in 1:50:20.9.

When I look at all the results, I wish I could be faster - I was faster 9 years and 50 lbs. ago. in my marathon day. I dream about doing better and have to fight off the negative thoughts that try to overshadow my success as an individual tri(bi)athlete! I have to remind myself, I DID IT!

Here is my relay team member, Allen (left), me, Beeb (my sister), and Jake (my bro in law)

{Plus, one of my nieces hanging on/hiding behind Jake and Miss B in the stroller in the background}

I saw this trailer that caught my attention:

I talked to the group (all wearing "Team Brenchley" T-shirts) and Brian is the Brenchley and is one of the triathletes. He is in a wheel chair and did not (cannot?) speak a word, but had a killer smile- you can kind of see the wheelchair in the photo, in the trailer. Tyler is a friend and is the other triathlete. He pushes Brian in the wheelchair during the run, hooks a chariot to the back of his bike while Brian sits in it for the bike part, and then puts Brian in a 2-man raft and puts a harness around his waist and swims like that. A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. They told me that Brian is from North Logan, but did not know his relatives names. There's just simply not that many Brenchley's - we've got to be related!

When I first started doing races, my kids thought it was bad if I didn't "win" (which I never do) so I've had to drill it into their brains that it's enough to have accomplished something - and it's NOT about winning (except for the Kenyans), not that I wouldn't mind those grand prizes, but I'm in it to FINISH. I heard from another runner once that, "I'd rather be DFL than DNF."
DFL = dead freaking last, DNF = did not finish. I probably still am an embarrassment to my children, but to emphasize my point further, I also tell them that actually participating, to put yourself out there, is also better than a "DNS" (did not start) which is all of them, so they cannot talk!

I promise, I took 2 showers and washed up between the triathlon and going to church today, but it's permanent marker! Haylee caught a picture of me this morning - here's a close-up of how I looked in my church clothes. My "triathlon tattoos" advertising my age on my left calf to the entire ward! I did, however, get all the black, bicycle chain grease to wash off my hands!

Hey! Come a little closer and I'll admit something to you. I kinda want to do a triathlon again, so I can have a "clean" event without "incident." Any "swimmers" out there? ;)