Haiku

I know I haven’t blogged in like eight months, and I really should be doing housework or going for a run right now, but I was just playing with my iPhone and came across some haikus I wrote a couple years ago…Can’t remember when or why (Waiting for my car to be serviced? Hanging out at the park with my son?) but they made me smile, so I’ll share them with anyone who might still be out there:

Running through the park
Don’t step on doggie poo poo
Crap! My iPod died

Skinny hipster dudes
with tattoo sleeves drink lattes
and walk tiny dogs

You ate your veggies
And went poop on the potty
Now please go to sleep

He rolls eyes at me
and turns back to the TV
Wife, give me some peace

There you go! Hope you enjoyed them as much as I probably enjoyed writing them; I honestly don’t remember doing it! (Waiting at the doctor’s office? Sitting in traffic?) Share your own if you’ve got ’em!

More silliness happening here!

The World’s Hardest Job? Maybe, Maybe Not…

As I let my body recover from some nagging injuries, my priorities for the summer have shifted away from triathlons and races and more towards the domestic sphere, so please humor me as I blog a little more about life, and a little less about training for a while.

A while back a little video kept circulating on Facebook, something about people interviewing for “the world’s hardest job.” I never got around to watching the whole thing, (and I’m not a serious enough blogger to do anything that resembles “research”) but I think the gist of it was that being a stay-at-home mom is the toughest job in the world, and its job description would scare off many a would-be applicant.

It’s a funny premise, and I can’t entirely disagree that a description of what I do day after day sounds pretty tedious: Waking up earlier than I want to, cleaning up messes that seem to regenerate themselves instantly, shuttling my child to back and forth to school while fielding endless questions (How long until our sun turns into a supernova? How much cheese can you eat before you have a heart attack? Do elephants have dentists?), doing my best to prepare fresh, healthy meals for two guys who would frankly prefer to eat a platter of fried chicken with a chaser of Oreos every night.

But the bottom line for me is that, no matter how hard the job is, I get to take care of MY family, MY child, every day, and that’s a pretty awesome gift. I’ve got a husband and a son, these two people I love more than anything in the world, and even though I wish they’d tidy up the trail of items they leave strewn about the house, and gain a little better aim in the bathroom, at least the time I spend cleaning up after them is one way I get to be guardian of my little flock, and mistress of my own castle. Which brings me to my next point…

You know what the hardest job in the world is? I don’t think it’s taking care of your own children, or cleaning your own house. You know what’s harder than that? Taking care of someone ELSE’S kids, who’ve been raised with someone else’s rules and philosophies about discipline, diet, etcetera…Being a preschool teacher or day care worker, for example. Or cleaning someone ELSE’S house…That’s gotta be a tough job, right? Cleaning up after strangers, gaining way too much insight into their personal habits and hygiene…and doing it all for minimum wage, then going home after a long day to it all all over again for your own family. If THAT’S not one of the hardest jobs in the world, I don’t know what is.

So I’ll take the cleaning, the driving, the cooking, the kiddo’s tantrums and whining, and everything else that comes with the job while I consider myself pretty darn lucky for being there for the cuddles, the discoveries, and the milestones. It’s not glamorous, it’s certainly not well-paid, but the hardest job in the world? Not even close!

Sadly, he’s no more helpful around the house today than he was when this picture was taken.

Snow Days

9 days before my upcoming half-marathon, the Portland area got hit with a rare winter storm, which sent the city into its typical winter-weather hysteria. (Snowmagedden! Arctic Blast 2014! Snowpocalypse!)

Aside from some closure-related inconveniences (I missed getting the alert that the kiddo’s school was closing early on Thursday, and happened to be in the dentist’s chair when my husband called to inform me) and a swing shift at the hospital (luckily most people heeded the warning to stay off the road, so the drive wasn’t as harrowing as the subsequent 8 hours in an understaffed ICU), I was able to spend most of the long weekend at home.

My neighborhood picked up around 8 inches of beautiful, powdery snow, much to my son’s delight:

Creating a full-size snowman seemed like too much effort, so we settled for elf-size.

It was fun to see all the kids on our street with their sleds and toboggans sliding down the hill in front of our house. I’m not sure I remember a day when so many neighbors were out visiting with each other; snow (and days off from work) must be a universal catalyst for socializing.

My half-marathon training plan called for a 6-miler this weekend. Unfortunately, the gym was closed due to the weather (which I’m almost grateful for; I did a tempo run on the treadmill Thursday, which reminded me why I run outdoors in just about any weather!) so I decided to brave the snowy roads and trails.

Here’s a view of where I began, a paved trail I do at least a portion of nearly every run on:

Somewhere under there is a trail…

The snow was powdery and mostly packed, but the footing was uneven and a little slippery. I slowed my pace quite a bit, and it felt sort of like running on a rough trail. By a couple miles in, I was pretty fatigued mentally, and very concerned about straining a muscle or twisting an ankle before my race next Sunday, so I turned around and headed home for a total of about 4.5 miles…Good enough, I decided, and my legs should be nice and fresh next weekend! Again, it was fun to see all the people out enjoying the scenery, some of them on cross-country skis

Fast-forward a few days: the weather turned almost balmy, and the rain started pouring down.

R.I.P., little snow elf.

I made it outdoors for the last run before my race, a short tempo run which felt GREAT! The snow was a fun interlude, but it was nice to be back out in the normal Oregon winter drizzle.

The weather forecast for the coming weekend calls for heavy rain and wind…I’ll be hoping for a break between about 8 and 10 Sunday morning, but even if I don’t get one, at least I won’t be running in a Snowpocalypse!

(Fast forward another week…MAN, I have a hard time finishing blog posts! At least I don’t have the same problem with racing. My half is done, I nailed my goal pace, and I can finally walk down the stairs without cringing. A race report to follow…if I ever get around to it!)

Back in the Saddle, Again…

Ahhh, that was a nice, long rest, wasn’t it? I feel refreshed, energized, motivated…to blog again, that is. Sorry for the long delay…Since my Oly tri in September, life has been full: family, projects around the house, and yes, goal-setting and training for the next race.

I’m the Parent of a Kindergartener!

Hard to believe it, but the kiddo turned 6 in November. He’s happily attending a kindergarten a full half-hour away from our house. The long commute creates the perfect opportunity for him to pepper me with relentless questions like these:

1. How long until our sun turns into a supernova?

2. How much cheese can you eat before you have a heart attack?

3. Is a baby shower like a meteor shower, with babies falling from the sky? (I’m pretty sure he was joking with this one…At least I hope he was!)

All pretty reasonable questions, though none quite as wonderful as the one he asked me a year or two ago: “Mommy, what do the actors do when we press ‘pause’ on the remote control?” I laugh every time I envision a crew of tiny people inside our TV standing around waiting for my son to press “play” again.

Trying to find answers must count as some kind of training for my brain. I swear I’ve done speedwork on the track lately that was less exhausting than a 20-minute conversation with my son! Still, I’m loving this stage of his childhood, where his creativity and curiosity are expanding so quickly, but his little body still fits perfectly next to mine when he crawls into bed for a snuggle on Saturday morning.

I’m Training for a Half-Marathon!

After my Oly tri in September, I vowed to take a couple weeks off from training. I lasted 5 days before going out for a run. I waited a little longer before setting some new goals, then decided it’s time to jump back on the horse that threw me. My summer of training left me feeling stronger than I ever have, so I hunted out a training plan in which I run only 3 days a week, so I can continue to swim and bike at least once a week. It’s not an easy plan, though; I set a goal pace for my HM, and the plan calls for tempo runs, speedwork, and a long run all at prescribed paces to help me achieve that goal. There are no “easy run” days or junk miles, but I’m actually pretty happy with that. It’s nice to set out with a purpose for every workout, and so far I’ve been able to meet or exceed my goal pace with every one (although last week’s 6-mile tempo run nearly made me cry.)

I’m just hoping my body’s revolving display of nagging aches and pains (Left foot! Right knee! Left hip! Upper back!) doesn’t progress to anything steady and debilitating. With a little luck, February 16th will find me CRUSHING my half-marathon PR and nailing my goal pace! Either way, I’m feeling pretty good about the way I’m running right now.

(Disappears for 3 weeks, continues to train for her race and be a mommy, then remembers she has a blog again…)

And, here I am again. Today was the last run of the peak week of training for my HM. I’m proud to say I met or beat the prescribed pace for every tempo run, track workout, and long run I’ve done. I had weekly mileage totals that were way higher than I’ve ever had in the past, and all on 3 days a week of running! I cross-trained on the bike and in the pool, too, which was a nice break from the long run workouts.

At this point, I don’t even really feel that much pressure to nail my goal pace for the half. I’ll run hard if I feel like it, or back off if it feels like too much. The real victory I’m celebrating is having the self-discipline to push myself through mile repeats on tired legs, or an 8-mile tempo run when my stomach was cramping…or just getting myself out the door for a long run on a cold day when I could have stayed in my warm house.

So send me some happy thoughts on February 16th, if you think about it, but rest assured that I will be having fun no matter what. After all, the hardest part of my race is already finished.

Whew…Thank Goodness THAT’S Over!

I did it! I finished my first Oly tri! With a smile on my face, no less…and in spite of yucky weather and a major crisis of confidence the week before.

If you want to read my detailed race report with times and everything, look here.

Here’s a more emotional, long-winded summary:

After a night of fitful sleep, I got up, got dressed, and forced some breakfast and coffee down. I packed up my bike and headed to Cathedral Park, which is less than 20 minutes from my house. (Finally! A race I don’t have to drive an hour for!)

I’ll be swimming under this, then running over it!

Since we weren’t supposed to park IN the park, I found street parking approximately 17 miles away, unloaded my stuff, pumped up my tires, and plodded to the transition area. On the way I ran into a couple ladies I’d done a training swim with, and we swapped hellos and well-wishes for the race before parting ways at the body-marking area. Since it was chilly and windy out, this race required our arms to be marked, instead of just the legs like I’m used to. I held up the line for a minute while I struggled out of multiple layers of clothes, got marked, then headed over to transition to set up.

The weather forecast had called for rain, so I had brought along a couple large plastic bags to place my socks, shoes, and jacket in to keep them dry while I was swimming. As it turned out, it didn’t rain much during the race, but it was a good thing that my shoes were pinning down my bags, because the wind was blowing…hard!

After pretending to listen to the pre-race briefing while putting on my wetsuit, I headed down to the boat ramp. I had a pair of throw-away flip-flops on, which meant I wasn’t able to fully appreciate the dagger-like texture of the pavement underfoot. I debated whether or not to even warm up in the water, since my wave wasn’t scheduled to start for 18 minutes after the race started. I did the smart thing and got in, got used to the water temp, then got out and shivered for what felt like forever until they announced my wave. I kicked my sandals off to the side near the boat ramp and tried to find a promising-looking area to start. It was a big wave, though…At least 60 people, and we were all sort of crowded together like cattle.

Needless to say, when the swim started, it was a madhouse. It took forever to make any forward progress, and I was struggling to find any place where I wasn’t swimming over or into another body for at least a hundred yards. After we rounded the first buoy, it started to thin out, and I found a rhythm of sorts. It was pretty windy, and the water was choppy, but I concentrated on keeping my breathing and my stroke as even as possible. It seemed to take forever to get to the turnaround, but it seemed a little easier on the way back. (The race directors had said to expect the opposite, due to an incoming tide, but maybe the wind direction had something to do with it.) I eventually made it back to the boat ramp, and climbed out of the water feeling like I’d done pretty well. I glanced at my watch and was surprised and a little disappointed to be about 3 minutes slower than what I’d expected, but I was soon distracted by the tiny knives of pavement that were trying to shred my feet on my way up the hill. Running wasn’t an option; I just sort of tiptoed, saying “Ow, ow, ow,” until we were on soft grass again.

When I got back to my bike I did a pretty good job of shedding my wetsuit, but could not for the life of me figure out why my helmet wouldn’t go on my head right. I took it off, looked at it, put it back on, took it off again, and finally realized my ponytail was too high and the helmet wouldn’t fit over it. Obviously the cold water had slowed my thought processes. I adjusted my hair, jammed my helmet on, and headed out for the ride.

The bike is by far my weakest event. I rode as fast as I could comfortably, and as usual was passed by a multitude of people of all shapes and sizes. I was able to pass a few myself, but they were almost exclusively on mountain bikes wearing running shoes. On the positive side, I was able to eat a few energy chews and drink lots of Gatorade, so I felt well-prepared for the run. Besides that, I was able to tolerate the ride pretty well, without too much “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” running through my head (though there was some, to be sure!) There was a mean headwind for most of the ride, which seems impossible, but I swear, the wind shifted about halfway through, and I was riding into it all the way out, and most of the way back.

My second transition went smooth enough, then I steeled myself for the run. It should be my strongest leg, but I wasn’t sure how my legs would hold up after a long ride. Also, the run course had a long, steep uphill climb pretty near the beginning, which is just not fair. (Seriously, it was about a quarter of a mile of around 18% grade. Cruel.) This is the only place I walked during the run leg, and it was only about 15 steps, to keep me from crying. But when I hit mile marker 1, my pace was near 9 minutes/mile, which was way faster than I’d expected! I contemplated slowing down to conserve energy, but my legs felt okay, and I wasn’t huffing and puffing, so I decided to roll with it for a while. I started noticing the spectators along the course, and had enough breath to compliment them on their signs. (My favorite one said, “Hey! Where’s everybody going?”) I also chatted a little with some of the runners I passed and who passed me. The course stayed flat for the next couple of miles, and my pace stayed strong. Then it was time to climb over the St. John’s bridge. I was demoralized for a little while at how tired the climb made me, and I almost lost my hat in the wind. I thought about taking a walk break before telling myself I didn’t need it, I wasn’t that tired, I was strong, etc. etc. The positive self-talk worked, and pretty soon I was crossing back over the bridge and heading downhill again.

Remember that 18% uphill? Well, the course came back down that same hill. A runner I’d been exchanging leads and jokes with since mile 2 finally blew by me for good at that time, and I told her to go crush it. But my quads (and my nerves) can’t handle a downhill sprint, so I took it a little slower. Good thing, because I still had almost a mile of trail along the river and through the grass of the park before I was in the finishing chute. I passed a young woman who looked like she was struggling a bit, told her to push hard and finish strong, and then ran hard the last 50 yards to the finish. I’d run the best 10K time of my short career, and I knew it! I also couldn’t bend over to take off my timing chip without falling down; thank goodness for kind race volunteers. I traded my chip for a medal and a slice of watermelon, and wandered aimlessly in a post-race stupor…”Must text husband…Need water…Call mom…Where’s phone?…Hey, chocolate-chip cookies!” I ate some of the post-race food and eventually packed up my stuff and headed out as the gusts of wind started lifting up tents and knocking over fences. I walked the 17 miles UPHILL to my car (Seriously, not cool…) on tired legs, and headed back over the bridge just as a torrential downpour opened up. Whew…Thank goodness THAT waited until after the race!

Notice how that tree is blowing sideways? It was seriously windy!

So now it’s time for some rest and recovery. I know this was no Ironman race, but it did require a significant amount of training time, especially in the last couple months, and I’m a little burned out. I’ve got a few body parts (hip, back) that are begging for some time to heal, and frankly, some long-neglected housework to attend to. In time, I’ll set some race goals for the winter and next year, but right now I’m just going to enjoy having nothing to train for!

10 Reasons Why…

10 Reasons Why I Can’t Run My First Olympic Triathlon Tomorrow:

1. My back has been aching like crazy for over a week.
2. I’m afraid of drowning in the Willamette River
3. The water will be cold.
4. The weather will be terrible.
5. I’m afraid I won’t be able to take in enough calories without feeling sick to have the energy to complete the 10K run.
6. What if I fall off my bike in the transition area?
7. Speaking of bikes, what if I get a flat tire? I’ve still never changed one entirely on my own…My husband has always been there to tell me what I’m doing wrong, and take over when I get frustrated.
8. Speaking of husbands, mine has to work that day, so he won’t even be there to cheer me on.
9. Did I mention it will be raining, with a possibility of thunder? Seriously, who schedules a triathlon at the end of September, anyway? (A bunch of Oregonians, that’s who!)
10. I’m burned out from all the training I’ve been doing, and VERY ready to veg in front of the TV for a while.

10 Reasons Why I WILL Run My Olympic Triathlon Tomorrow:

1. I’ve swam in cold water before and it didn’t kill me.
2. For that matter, I’ve swam in the Willamette River before and it didn’t kill me (though I might be growing some mutant parts…)
3. I’m an Oregonian…I don’t let a little inclement weather spoil my plans.
4. Gatorade, Shot Blox, gummy fruit snacks…They’ve all sat well enough during my training, and no one ever starved in 3 and a half hours, so even if I don’t eat much, I’ll probably live through it.
5. I paid a lot of money for this race…And there are no refunds. (I’m a total cheapskate.)
6. I’ll earn a cool finishers’ medal to put on my wall.
7. Swimming under my favorite bridge in Portland and then running over it should be pretty awesome!
8. Lots of people have supported me in my training so far: my mom and dad have babysat my son while my husband worked so I could fit in a group swim; my friend brought her kayak out to the river to paddle alongside me while I swam; and countless other friends and strangers have given me words of encouragement and support. I can’t let them all down!
9. As a coach said to me last weekend, “You’re as strong as you want to be.” And I want to be just strong enough to finish this race with a smile on my face.
10. I’ll feel SOOOOOO much less guilty about spending 90% of the next week sitting around and doing nothing if I can tell people “I’m taking it easy for the week…I just did my first Oly tri!”

Yep, unless circumstances beyond my control intervene (like a cancellation due to thunderstorms) tomorrow at 7:48 a.m. I will be running into the Willamette River. I hope I will be tough enough to deal with whatever comes after that, but I know at least that I am tough enough to get to the starting line!

Warning: The Following Post Contains Language Unsuitable for Those Under 6 Years of Age

I’m a baby-head. And my ideas are poopy-headed. So says (or yells) my 5-year-old son, anyway.

It’s hard to keep a straight face when he’s having a tantrum and throwing out this type of insult, even though on the inside my heart is breaking a little because he’s so obviously frustrated and doesn’t know how to cope.

I blame myself. For the ridiculous vocabulary, I mean, not the tantrums themselves. (I’m pretty sure those come from my husband’s gene pool.) I have selfishly refused to use any REAL profanity in front of him (and, oh, how I’ve wanted to sometimes!) so he obviously lacks the proper terminology to truly express his anger. Heck, we’ve been referring to his posterior as his “bottom” or “booty” forever; the other day after school he had to ask me what a “butt” was. I told him, and now it’s his new favorite word. (“Mommy, check out my booty-butt!!!” “Kiddo, pull up your pants, right now!)

I don’t know why I have this hang-up about my child using certain words. I guess there’s a part of me that wants to preserve his baby-ness for as long as I can, even as he grows into a school-age boy. So in our house, it’s bottom instead of butt, toots instead of farts, and gosh-darn-it instead of…well, just about anything else you could say when you drop a book on your toe or spill a glass of milk. (Ironically, my husband and I, a physician and a nurse, have always used the proper anatomical terms for his private parts; while this ensures he’ll never need to learn the “real” word for them later, it has made for some embarrassing moments in public. Imagine a 3-year-old explaining at full volume the differences between the men and women on the magazine covers while we’re waiting in the grocery checkout line!)

So for now, angry outbursts in our house are going to be accompanied by some creative and sometimes pretty hilarious insults. My husband and I will try to hide our smiles while we show respect for his feelings, set limits on his behavior, help him learn coping strategies, and otherwise do all the “good parent” things we’re supposed to be doing. And we’ll wait until later, after he’s in bed, to laugh hysterically about his word choices; after all, that may turn out to be the one bright spot in an otherwise very trying day as parents.

A picture of “Angry.” Drawing his feelings actually turned out to be a pretty good alternative to yelling about them!

Hagg Lake Sprint Triathlon Race Report

Here’s a link to my online race report, if you’re interested: http://www.beginnertriathlete.com/discussion/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=494454

It was another gorgeous day for a race! I was suffering from a little bit of a sore throat, but wasn’t sick enough to feel like my energy was affected. The water was the perfect temperature (75) and calm, so except for a massive navigation blunder, the swim was lovely. (I even PRd, even though I probably added 75 yards to my distance by going off-course and having to redirect myself!) As I knew coming in to this race, the bike course had some monster hills, but I took it as easy as I could, and even managed to pass a few people on the uphill climbs. (They were mostly people riding mountain bikes, but I’m such a slow cyclist I’ll take whatever I can get!) The run also had some really steep hills, and I definitely felt the burning in my chest towards the end, but I was happy with my performance. (I don’t believe my official 5K time of 25:47; I think I was actually more in the 28 minute range. There may have been a timing snafu somewhere in my 2nd transition, but I can’t prove it so I guess I’ll just leave the official record there for posterity!)

In hindsight, given a couple out-of-town trips in the last 2 weeks, and the fact I was a little under the weather, I’m pretty grateful that I opted to do the sprint instead of the Olympic distance this time around. In fact, I was tired enough at the finish line I couldn’t even imagine still being on the course for another hour and a half or longer! With luck that thought won’t be so overwhelming in 7 weeks when the Portland Tri rolls around!

Gonna take it easy the next couple days, then get back to work!

What I Saw on My Ride Today…

I went for a lovely 28-mile ride in the farmland west of my neighborhood in NW Portland today. Here are a few of the sights I took in:
A ghost town:

Some tepees:

A noisy, active community of honey bees in the middle of a field of clover:

Also seen but not captured for posterity: A small plane towing a glider RIGHT over my head, lots of cows grazing peacefully, and about a bazillion other cyclists in groups and alone enjoying the beautiful weather.

In case you were concerned for my safety, I assure you I stopped my bike before taking any of these pictures. Maybe I was relaxed enough to take in the scenery today because I finally decided to let go of my plan to do the Olympic triathlon at Hagg Lake next weekend, and settle for the sprint this time around. My legs just aren’t ready to ride 25 miles of those hills before a 10K run…I need a few more months of consistent cycling first. Disappointing, yes, but I’m pretty sure it’s the right thing for me right now. Consequently, I’m going to try to start ENJOYING my long rides (and runs) more, instead of just grinding through them. My iPhone and I will be out there searching for interesting sights, and I’ll share them here!

A (Belated) Race Report and A Plan…

June 8th, 2013: Well, first of all, what a great weekend it was for a race! It was my 3rd year in a row at the Blue Lake Sprint Triathlon (though last year I was limited to the Aqua-Bike because of my foot injury), and the first of those years it’s actually been warm and sunny for the days leading up to the race. And this meant…water that was warmer than the low-60s!!! Yay for me!!! (I’m such a cold-water-weenie…)

If you’re interested in my splits, standings, or other race info, here’s a link to my online race report. But the following is a more general report about the experience.

First of all, I’m working towards the goal of completing my first Olympic-distance triathlon at Hagg Lake in July (more about that later), so this race was more of a tune-up/progress check than anything else; hence, I was MUCH less nervous about it than in my first season. (I’m pretty sure it’s just because I’ve been obsessing so much about the Oly that I actually forgot to freak out over this one.) Regardless, I was pretty relaxed coming into the sprint tri, bolstered by the confidence that I’ve been training for TWICE the distance, so this should be no problem!

I also had the benefit of having attended an open-water swim clinic at the very same lake the week before, which did a lot to settle my nerves after last year’s famous panic attack.

So when race day dawned, I was surprisingly at ease. I got up, ate breakfast, loaded my gear into the car, and followed the single handwritten instruction I’d left by my water bottles the night before: “Don’t Forget Your Bike.” I drove the 45 minutes to the park with the radio blaring, singing along to my favorite songs with the abandon that can only come from knowing you’re alone in the car and the traffic is minimal because most sane people are still in bed. I got to the race site plenty early (in contrast to the previous year, when part of my panic was probably due to the fact I showed up too late to warm up properly.) I set up my transition area, walked down to the lake with a 15-year-old newbie to show her the course, and jogged a little to get warmed up. I shared the comical experience of getting into my wetsuit with a couple of rack-mates (nothing fosters instant friendship like squashing someone into neoprene while forcing their zipper shut, does it?) I made it back down to the beach in plenty of time to get in the water and get warmed up, time made even more plentiful by an announcement that, due to the traffic jam of cars waiting to get into the park, the race start time would be pushed back 15 minutes.

I said this to a couple first-time triathletes, and I will echo it to anyone reading this post who might ever want to do a tri: NOTHING helps ease the panic of an open-water swim like getting in the water ahead of time, and getting used to it. Swim a little, swim a lot, but make sure you get your face in it! I probably swam a total of 150 yards, and splashed around a little more, before I felt ready to go.

When my wave waded in, I found myself near the front; not necessarily where I wanted to be, as I know I’m only an average swimmer, but looking around, I couldn’t figure out who looked slower than me (it’s really hard to tell, you know?) so I just stayed where I was, and dove in fast when the horn blasted. There was a little contact in the beginning, but nothing too major, and I settled in to a rhythm pretty quickly. I even managed to draft a bit off someone in front of me, until she veered off in a direction other than the one I was following. I found a pace that felt fast but comfortable, and actually enjoyed myself as I rounded the first bouy and headed towards the second. After I rounded the third and headed into the last 200 yards or so, the water felt a little choppy and I got a bit queasy. Not sure if it was nerves or seasickness, but I talked myself through it and made it to the finish in what turned out to be a tie of my PR of 17:17.

Transition went smoothly enough, and for the first time I managed to get my wetsuit off and my bike shoes on without sitting down! The little accomplishments mean so much…

The bike leg…I said it a couple years ago, I said it last year, and I said it last fall, before completely ignoring my own advice and blowing off bike training: I REALLY NEED TO GET BETTER AT THE BIKE!!! I’m on my way to building up endurance since I’ve been riding consistently since March, but it’s going to take awhile for the passee to become a passer on the bike course. Once again, I don’t think I passed a single rider, and I got passed by so. many. people. I consoled myself with the fact that I’d probably gotten out of the water faster than some of them, and I might catch one or two on the run.

T2. It happened. Wasn’t interesting.

The run. I opted to go Garmin-less so as not to be annoyed by trying to remember to turn it on, wait for it to find a satellite signal, etc. Consequently, after pounding out my bike leg as fast as I could so as not to be TOTALLY humiliated, my legs felt pretty rubbery, and I had no idea whether I was running fast, slow, or somewhere in-between. I did remember to hit the “lap” button on my stopwatch, and was shocked to note that I hit mile marker 1 at about an 8-minute mile! In other words, about 36 seconds faster than my mile pace from my previous 5K PR. “Better slow down,” I told my rubberlegs, but I don’t think they were taking in any messages from my brain at that point. So I concentrated on ignoring the side cramp I’d developed (probably a result of breathing harder than I ever had on a run before!) and not falling down as I navigated the course through some long grass and a treacherous downhill dirt-and-rock trail that led to a (fenceless, unprotected) walkway along the lake. (I’d really like to talk to the mastermind of this particular triathlon run course…It’s very strange.) I crossed the finish line with nothing at all left in my legs, then probably caused massive internal eye rolls to the teenage worker collecting timing chips as I fumbled with the safety pin holding the velcro of my timing chip strap in place. (Hey, I was being extra cautious, you know?)

After the race, I walked straight down to the beach to reclaim the neoprene swim socks I’d ditched at the last minute outside the starting corral, then headed over to the food tent. I met up with my transition-buddies, shared race reports, glanced at my official race results, then packed up and headed home just in time to shower before heading off to my son’s T-ball game.

Mission Accomplished!

All in all, I was pretty proud of my performance at this race. It was an overall PR, a tie for a PR in the swim, and a HUGE PR in the 5K. The only thing it was missing was a lightning-bolt style revelation to tell me whether I would or would not be ready to do an Olympic-distance triathlon on a super-hilly course in just a month. In fact, the only revelation I got was that I can run a 5K much faster than I thought I could, and I’m definitely solid on the sprint distances.

So the next step is to keep building up the bike volume, and maybe do a test ride on the course I will be facing in July. If the distance and the hills don’t seem too daunting, my Olympic-distance debut will happen July 6th at Hagg Lake. If I’m not feeling ready, or if it seems too stressful and anxiety-provoking, I’ll do the sprint and try not to beat myself up about it. After all, this is supposed to be a fun hobby, right? There’s always another race in the future…Like maybe the Portland Triathlon on September 22nd? An opportunity to swim (upstream) in the lovely, less-polluted-than-it-used-to-be-but-still-not-pristine Willamette River? Sounds good to me! I’ll keep you posted…