It was 4:45 on a chilly Saturday morning. I am not a morning person. Yet here I was: getting ready to set off before the sunrise. Why? The 2010 Dewey Beach Sprint Triathlon.
I first ran this race in 2008. A sprint triathlon had appealed to me because the distances seemed manageable (.5 mile swim, 7.2 mile bike, and 3.5 mile run). The stages of a triathlon are in the swim-bike-run order for safety’s sake. A tired swimmer can drown. A tired biker can crash. A tired runner will stop and walk.
As I stood on the beach shivering with my fellow competitors, our age groups denoted by the colors of our swim caps, I noticed no one seemed eager to jump into the water. Yet, every three minutes the air horn sounded and another wave of brightly colored caps charged lemming-like into the pounding surf.
When our horn sounded I ran, stumbled, and dove until clear of the breakers and headed for the first buoy, a few hundred yards offshore. Swimming in a straight line in the ocean without lane markers is a challenge, though there were lifeguards on surfboards or in kayaks to help guide us.
As I neared the buoy, I realized I was ten feet to the wrong side of the first turn. I launched into an all-out freestyle and just made it around the proper side of the buoy, but it took a toll on my energy and I was only a third of the way through the swim. When I began to see swim caps around me from the group after me, I knew I was falling behind.
When my feet finally touched down on the soft sand, I stumbled towards the beach like a punch-drunk prizefighter.
The transition areas are one key to doing well in a triathlon. Time is gained or lost there based more on organizational skills than athletic prowess. People had laid out helmets, shoes, and towels in strategic locations to gain a critical few seconds’ advantage. Some had small footbaths ready to wipe the sand off their feet. Others sat on overturned 5-gallon buckets to more easily change into their shoes.
In 2008, I’d borrowed a friend’s mountain bike. The frame was at least two sizes too small for me and the chain was so rusty that I was afraid to change gears for fear it would come off its track. This time I had another borrowed bike — a road bike that was only one size too small for me.
In contrast to slogging through the water, cycling made me feel like I was flying. I leaned down and into the wind, making my body as aerodynamic as possible. And unlike when I was in the water, I was steadily passing other racers. The only time I got in trouble was at the turnaround when I almost went off the road. Toward the end, I was beginning to learn the subtleties of when to draft off other riders or when to pass them.
The running leg is probably the biggest mental challenge. Lactic acids have been building up in muscles, which makes your legs feel heavy. You’re not moving nearly as fast as you were on the bike. And, perhaps the toughest to deal with, people are starting to break down all around you. Somehow you’ve got to ignore all that and… move faster!
In 2008, I was unable to deal with this, but this past Saturday was a different story. I was able to steadily pick up my pace. I knew that the finish line was not far away, and each runner I passed fueled my desire to pass more. With about a half-mile to go I felt that deep burn that I hadn’t experienced since my high school cross-country races. This was the moment I’d hoped for when I’d gotten out of bed two hours before dawn. This feeling of achievement is the reward that’s available when we’re willing to push our mental and physical limits.
I crossed the finish line thirteen minutes faster than I had in 2008. I could run the Ironman, I thought to myself. Why not? Right then I decided on a new life goal: within the next 10 years I will run an Ironman.
Now I just need to get a bike.
Ava Cannon says
THAT was a great article!! In 1997 my husband and I (along with our 3 month old daughter at the time), flew to Hawaii to see my brother in law compete in the Ironman. I decided then that ONE day I would compete in an Ironman. Okay, so a couple more kids later and no more triathlon training except for organizing one, I would say I am not remotely ready. But you are!!! And I love the goal, within 10 years. Love it!! Be And now there is an Ironman in virtually every state. Hey – maybe I’ll join you.
Thanks for sharing your story. It’s a great article.
Now go get a bike!!