Half Full REV - Olympic 40 Mile Distance - TriathlonOlympic

Time trial start which I REALLY like, it cuts down on some of the madness, although there were still a few people who ran into me or swam very close by. I started out feeling pretty good, trying to focus on my form, etc. I must've been doing something different than usual because I kept getting a lot of water in my mouth and at one point got enough that I had to stop to cough it out. Weird.

About halfway through, as I passed near a kayak I saw the paddler had his paddle held high in the air and was blowing his whistle, meaning he had someone who needed medical attention NOW. Freaked me out a little, but I cleared the negative thoughts as best as possible and kept going.

I felt fairly strong, but sure enough I saw the caps from the wave behind me passing me. No biggie, that's expected, but when I continued to see other waves behind them pass me I began to get frustrated about being so slow and of course mad at and down on myself. About 2/3 of the way through I got punched quite hard in my left ear (really, you can't avoid me with so much open water and not crowded conditions?!), hard enough that it felt like my [top of my ear] earring got ripped out, but I kept swimming, figuring if I felt something warm running down my neck I'd know I was right. ;)

Finally I saw the final bright buoys and knew it was soon time to be out of the water. Made the turn into the ramp and carefully picked my way up, trying not to stub my toes or step on the zip tie ends that were holding some of the mats together. It is all uphill to get to transition and I just didn't have it in me to run up the hill. I trotted a tiny bit then said screw it and walked. Saw my husband who told me he thought I had a good (for me) swim but I wasn't so sure.

Be in a better place mentally and not let being passed by later starting waves get me so down. Also, swim faster!

Although I did do the swim faster than last year (but didn't find out until after the race), so that's something.

I was at the end closest to the swim in and farthest from bike out. I didn't move at supersonic speed putting on my bike stuff but I also didn't dilly dally - definitely could've moved faster. Got my sunglasses, helmet, race belt, socks and tri shoes on and headed out. Oh, and put some Gu in my pockets which wasn't cooperating fully. Trotted to the bike out, then walked down the grassy hill to the mount line.

Move with a little more haste. I think my frustration/discouragement had me moving too slowly.

And here's where things got uglier. The bike is usually my favorite and best segment, so I was excited to get going and try to shake off being passed (and passed and passed) on the swim and make some time up on the bike. I mounted my bike (with not my most graceful, fluid, quick effort ever but it was OK) and got moving on the drive to get out of the park and head out to the road. I heard something rubbing, but didn't take the time to look, it seemed best to get out on the course away from folks just getting started. Once I got out to the main road, the rubbing sound continued. I looked down and saw all sorts of grass and junk caught in my front fork. Ugh. I waited until I was a mile or so in, hoping it would work its way out on its own, but of course it didn't so I pulled over, hopped off and worked to pull the crud out of the fork/brakes. Once it seemed I had most of it out, I got back on the bike, looked for a gap to get back in the stream of racers and took off.

I still heard some rubbing, but not as bad. Tough, I thought, let it rub. It's just grass. Started working to make up some time, passed some people, got passed by others, the usual. There is a nice downhill that turns into an uphill right away (no flat) where the road was a bit rough. I was essentially at the 'trough' of the curve when I heard a loud noise and felt/saw something hit my leg. "What the heck was that?!" I thought and maybe even said aloud. A second later my brain registered what it was - somehow my water bottle flew out of my Chimp cage on my aerobars, something that never happened before. (When I got home I measured the circumference of that bottle vs. the one I usually carry there - 1/8" smaller. Lesson learned, don't put that bottle up there anymore!). So I stopped, essentially dropped my bike to the ground, clomped back slightly uphill in bike shoes to retrieve the errant bottle, grabbed it, and trotted back to my bike. I then realized that I'm restarting on an uphill and in a VERY wrong gear, so I picked the back end up and shifted/pedalled into the smaller front ring at least. Astride the bike, I looked back and saw a long stream of riders coming down the hill. Eventually a small gap presented itself and I made an attempt to get out and get rolling and shifting some more. I think I had to stop again but finally got moving.

Alright, let's try to gain what time I lost *again*. I got moving with determination to turn this ride around, only now squeezing the bottle between my arms during any bumpy spots or downhills not wanting an encore of the tumble. The fog was so bad a few miles after the bottle incident that I had to take off my sunglasses because I couldn't see. Down the shirt they went. Sports bra = glove compartment. :)

The usual rhythm of pass/be passed resumed, cheering on those I passed and being cheered by those passing me. Great support and love for Team Fight racers from volunteers, spectators and other racers. Miles passed. Something still felt wrong with the bike, it seemed a little sluggish, so I looked down to the front tire/fork again and spotted all kinds of black, powdery-ish debris. What the heck? I waited for a nice flattish area with a shoulder to pull off and investigate. I didn't know if it was the tire or brake and didn't want to blow a tire. Pulling off to the grassy shoulder, I hopped off and bent down to look. Man, that's a lot of black crud! I removed the wheel, discovered another big glob of now wet, black, gross grass in the fork area so I pulled it out, wiping the black crud all over my shorts and top trying to clean off my hand. Reinstalled the tire only to discover I didn't have it properly centered in my haste, so I had to loosen the quick release again and adjust it properly. Finally, centered and rolling freely! Waited for a gap in riders and got back out on the course. By now my get up and go has got up and went. I was discouraged, frustrated, and feeling low. Oh well, just keep going. You don't truly earn a finisher's shirt by wussing out. That thought, and the desire to get my finisher's medal with the bottle opener was all I had left to drive me to the finish, plus I'm not a quitter.

Fighting the negative thoughts in my head, I pushed on. I'm really not sure at what mile(s) all these things happened at, all I know is that the success of the rest of the ride was due to strangers I befriended in the 2nd half, Randy and Allie (sp?), wonderful people who helped buoy my spirits and distract me from the ills of my bike and bad bike time.

Working my way up a hill, I saw a Team Fight kit ahead. Once I got closer, I was able to read his bib: Randy: SURVIVOR. Awesome stuff! As I passed him, I said something like, "Come on, Randy, good job, you got this!" He replied with a thanks or something friendly. On another hill not much later, I first encountered Allie. Bless her heart she was standing and totally mashing up the hills. I wondered why but didn't want to be 'that guy' who goes around telling people how to ride/race by suggesting she use a different gear. After all, who knows, maybe her gearing was broken, but I would say encouraging words each time we passed.

Randy, Allie and I were constantly passing and re-passing each other on the hills - I'd pass the mashing Allie going up, she'd pass me going down. Randy seemed to pass me going up and I'd pass him on the way down. Rinse, repeat, and our little race friendship/relationship grew, with Allie eventually confiding that she was on a borrowed bike and was afraid to shift because she was not sure she'd be able to get back into the gear she wanted. Oh, and she'd never ridden more than 12 miles before! Crazy! With each pass, Randy, Allie and I would exchange pleasantries and words of encouragement.

With just about 2 miles or so to go, Randy passed me one last time and said, "Come on, it's all flat now!" Kinda true, relatively, but not actually. :) Allie, having cleared the last of the bigger climbs, was free to speed away in her one, fast gear. I wished her luck. Turning into the drive to the park and heading toward the dismount line, I realized Randy was right in front of me, cool! We headed into transition essentially together.

Things I can control: not use that bottle in my aerobar cage again.

Things I can't control: not have a bunch of crud in my fork and not have whatever is wrong with the front end of my bike.

I was pretty casual coming into T2 I'm guessing because of my lingering frustration over the bike portion. I walked the bike up the hill to transition rather than run. Other than that, I moved with OK speed. Again, I had to go to the far end of transition.

Eh, I guess run up the hill.

At this point I'm just going through the motions, just getting through the run to get to the finish. Right after going down the boat ramp hill out of transition, I encountered a very friendly girl who was part of a Team Fight relay. We chatted for a while and she shared that she lost all 4 of her grandparents to cancer. Holy crap. After about a mile, I encouraged her to take off - she was using me to keep herself from going out too fast but now was time for her to do her thing.

Alone again, I ended up doing some run/walk because the humidity or heat or something was causing my asthma to flare up and it was hard to breathe easily. My chest would get tight if I ran too long or too hard. Sigh.

I'm guessing around mile 2 I heard a familiar voice: Randy! He caught me (he must've taken his time in T2 for me to make that much distance up on him) and said, "Here's your chance to pass me again, come on!!" I laughed and said, "I'll see what I can do", knowing that I wouldn't see him again until the finish. I just didn't have the lungs that day.

I focused on thanking volunteers (which I try to do anyway) and appreciating the spectators that were offering support. The best spectators were these two guys in a Jeep who kept driving to different points on the course to yell, cheer and make people smile. They saw my age on my calf and yelled, "40?! No way, 29, maybe!!" Too sweet. I smiled even though I know they didn't mean it! I saw them no less than 3 times over the 6 miles, probably 1/3 of which was in the parks.

Finally, back in Centennial Park, I knew the finish couldn't be far off. Ahead I saw a bright yellow Team Fight shirt. It was none other than Mike, the Team Fight manager who is super visible and super supportive and was apparently going back and forth to run Team Fighters in. (last year before he was TF manager he spent hours running racers up 'Gatorade Hill', one of the uglier hills on the course. Now that's dedication!). He asked me how my race was and if I enjoyed myself. Putting it all in perspective, I told him overall, yes, and thanked him for running me in. He peeled off at the bottom of the hill that goes up to the finish and I ran up the hill, crossed the line and was glad to be done.

But wait, there she was, the woman with the gorgeous, infectious smile who helped hand out medals last year. I was determined to get my medal from her. I made a beeline for her and she said, "Melanie, welcome back! Congratulations!" and put the medal around my neck. I said, "Thank you! I just love your smile!" She replied, "I love you!" and we hugged a great big hug. I apologized for being all sweaty and gross and she said, "You and a few hundred other people!" She's a survivor, too. Amazing spirit, beautiful person.



How about actually running the running portion?

After chatting with the girls from the tri club a little (and inheriting a beer from the one - she didn't like it), I made a point to look for Randy. I really wanted to congratulate him. After a little searching, I found him, shook his hand/hugged and congratulated him.

Got my things out of transition, took them to the car and changed clothes. Headed back to the heart of the race to get some food and my free brew. Checked the results and saw that I was 2nd Athena, so we stuck around for the awards, plus my speedy friends from the tri club were going to be getting some awards. After the presentation, I turned around and there was Randy. He thanked me again for encouraging him and helping him out. I thanked him for the same, and we exchanged a big hug. It's hard to describe the quick but relatively deep bond we formed out there on the course, but it was special. Words just can't portray the emotions, the sentiments, the feeling. He affected me more than he may know, and perhaps vice versa. He and the other survivors and volunteers who make the day so special is why I will keep coming back and raising money for Team Fight.


I'm a slow swimmer.
I had bike issues.
I'm a slow runner with asthma issues.
That about sums it up.