Small Packages - My first Olympic Triathlon

It was 6:30 am and the sun had not yet risen.  As I set up my transition area, I looked at the people filing into the area. They appeared to be real athletes - mostly young, buff, hard bodied MALE athletes. Gulp. "Dorothy, you're not in Kansas anymore', I nervously told myself. It took a total of 3 minutes to set up my area, which gave me plenty of time before my 8 am swim start, to freak the #*&%(@ out!

Much calmer than on race morning!

This was the day I had been training for months for -- my first Olympic Distance triathlon.  We had arrived in Portland a couple days before to scope out the course.  At first glance, I was relieved to see that the Willamette River (that I would have to swim) was not a raging river, but instead looked beautiful, calm and peaceful.

We drove the 25 mile bike course and I thought it seemed pretty flat. Note to self: you simply cannot scope out a bike route correctly in a car. Hills that are imperceptible from a car are very perceptible when you are climbing them on a bike. We didn't drive the full run course because you gotta have a little bit of mystery on race day, right?

After setting up my transition area, I went for a jog to try to warm up. That IS why I was shaking, right?!  It had nothing to do with my fear of having to get in that cold, dark,  river and swim a mile and quite possibly be the last one out of the water, right?! The jog did help to calm me down. Trust my training, trust my training, I kept telling myself.  Note to self: bring warmer clothes!

When it was time, I put on the elite orange cap and I got in the water for a warm up swim.  This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do: find a blanket to crawl under and actually WARM THE FRICK UP! But, I pulled up my imaginary BGPs (big girl panties) and I plunged in and swam about 50 yards out. I stopped and noticed it was just like the lake at home and it was a beautiful morning. Before swimming back in, I 'tinkerbelled' (doggy paddling but with less effort) for a minute and felt (for the first time) confident that I could conquer survive that first 15 minutes of the swim that had in the past left me so breathless (and not in the sexy way).

At the swim start, I gave tri buddy, JS,  a big good luck hug as he went off in one of the early sprint waves.  The Olympic racers were going after the Sprint racers, in descending age groups. I stood with other women 30+ in their orange swim caps and they seemed so beautiful and strong to me.  I felt proud to be included among them (although a 50+ wave would have been nice, too). #1Hubs hugged me good-bye and gave me a look that said both 'you can do it' and 'i'm glad I'm not doing it' at the same time.

When my wave of women went in, I waited for the customary panic to arise. It didn't come. I only had to breast stroke a few minutes before I felt I could begin real swimming. I put my head in and began my slow, steady crawl to the teeny, tiny orange turn around buoy a half mile away, which I could barely see.   I found myself enjoying the swim --  noticing the hang gliders in the morning sky as I took my breaths on my left side and the beautiful St John's bridge as I took my breaths on my right side. I could feel the water around me get stirred  when each of the 3 waves behind me caught up to me and passed me. But even that did not rattle me. I heard the voice of Dory, 'just keep swimming, just keep swimming'. And I did.  A few times I would stop to peek behind me to see if I was in that dreaded last position. But I never was.

Gee, I'm almost done -- I can stop and wave now! 

When I got to the half mile buoy, I looked at my watch and it said 30 minutes and my heart sank. I thought I was doing so well! In practice, I can do the half mile in 20 or less. I shook it off and began the swim back, hoping that the current would do the opposite of what it had done on the way out. And it did, kinda. My return trip was 21 minutes. So, although the swim was a disappointing 51 minute time, I still count it as a victory because 1) I enjoyed it and 2) I did not panic.  So, maybe next time a little less enjoying and a little faster swimming!

As for the bike ride, the most challenging moment occurred at the place in the race that is the best for catching bloopers on film: the mount/dismount zone.  This must be why the largest crowds gather in this area.  Well, I didn't disappoint. As I hopped on my bike and pushed my foot down, the pedal missed the connection with my shoe and instead made a fine connection all down my bony shin. Ouch! One more try (or two) and I was off. I enjoyed zipping through the downtown area, with cops holding traffic for us as if we were dignitaries. I did not enjoy the multitudes of strong riders passing me though! This is when you are glad to see the ages marked on calves. It's much easier to be passed by 25 year olds, than by 60 year olds!

At around mile 20, I heard a weird, whirring sound coming from my front wheel. Oh shit, it's over, I thought -- my first flat. All this training, and I won't finish! Because, of course, I do not know how to change a bike tire yet (it IS  on my list of things to do).  Lo and behold, two (hot, young) cops were at the corner, so I stopped in front of them.  'Something is wrong with my tire', I said, as I hopped off my bike.  Hot Cop#1 kneeled down and took a look. He picked up the bike and spun the pedals a bit and out popped a leaf!! I was so relieved, that I blurted out 'Oh, Frick!', only it wasn't 'frick' that I said.  And, then, immediately, 'I'm sorry!' when I realized I had just cursed at an officer of the law!  Hot Cop#2 said, 'No worries, we won't ticket you for that'.  Whew! I thanked them and off I went and completed the 25 mile bike ride in 80 minutes -- with no trouble at the dismount -- except for a bit of wobbly knees going to the transition area.

Run time, baby! At this point, sheer relief and fun was had. I was 2/3rds of the way done with my first Olympic Distance Triathlon! Unless, I tripped on a crack (which I've done in a race), I had done it!!  The run started with an uphill climb, which I was forced to walk a bit on.  Then it flattened out and was a nice, shady route through an old neighborhood.  People had turned on their sprinklers for us to cool us off. Homeowners sat on their lawn and clapped for us. I reveled in each runner I passed -- especially if I remembered them whizzing by me on the bike leg.

At around mile 5, I saw #1Hubs and friends J.S. & K.B. at the sidelines cheering me on, which gave me the boost I needed to make it up the steep climb onto the St. John's Bridge.  I couldn't really enjoy the sights from the top of the bridge, because it was uphill (both ways!).  I did peek down at the river once and marveled that I had just swam a mile in that river! At the end of the bridge, I heard #1Hubs, 'Go Hard! You're at 60 minutes!'.  'I AM GOING HARD!!', I shouted back! lol. Apparently, my 'run' always looks more like a Hunchback of Notre Dame 'jog'. But, I did kick it up and was able to finish the 6.4 mile run in 65 minutes.

I was elated to cross the finish line!  Everyone bowed down to me at the finish line:

Well, not really. He was just trying to remove my timing chip. ;)


It's never about the medals, but the medal I got for this race was relatively small for a Triathlon. But they say big things come in small packages. This was a small token of my completing a really BIG goal.  My first Olympic Distance Triathlon was in the books! I had conquered my swim fears, biked with the pros, and ran my little tush off. And somehow I knew that this was only the beginning. The Olympic Distance was a 'real' Triathlon.  Almost anyone can go do a Sprint Tri without much training, but training is required for the Olympic Distance. Maybe I CAN really call myself a TRIATHLETE now? Hmmm...not sure I'm worthy yet. Maybe after I do a half...

This race was dedicated to K.O. -- who was the first to tell me I could do an Olympic Distance Triathlon. Thank you!!