Total: 32.63 miles, 4:09:47
Wow. What an adventure. Yesterday I completed my first Olympic distance triathlon, two weeks later than planned, 129 miles away from home. The training season was filled with adrenaline induced highs and terribly unexpected lows. As a closeout to this training log, I'll share some of them below.
Low: The Great Butt Injury of 2011
You read about it before, so I won't rehash. After riding off the slide and landing, ass-first, on a slab of concrete, my training took a major dip. I took a week off and never really got back on the program. Losing steam so quickly did a number not only on my race preparation, but on my mood as well. I've struggled with depression for quite a while, and this triggered a decrease in my mood that I wasn't expecting. To go from working out 9 times a week to 0 that quickly is not a good plan, I discovered. I eventually recovered (I still have a little pain), but no more slides for me.
High: Open Water Swim Practice
Testing out the wet suits with my training buddies, as well as swimming in a crystal clear rock quarry in rural Virginia made for a beautiful Sunday in August.
Low: The ACTUAL Open Water Swim
When the Nation's swim was cancelled, I immediately looked for a make-up race. I found one that coincided with our bye-weekend from rugby, and signed up immediately. I came home and told my girlfriend Courtney that I would be racing in Delaware. The conversation went something like this:
Courtney: In the OCEAN?
Kate: Yeah.
Courtney: So...when are we going to go and get you some practice swimming in the ocean?
Kate: Huh? It's in two weeks! We don't have time to practice.
Courtney: You remember last weekend, right?
You see, over Labor Day Weekend, Courtney, bike tutor Megan, and I went to the very same Delaware coast off which I'd be swimming. And I couldn't get in the water. The waves were terrifying. I don't know where this sudden phobia of the surf came from, but as I was trying to overcome it, I stood knee deep in the water, crying. With enough coaching and encouragement, Courtney was able to teach me to go under the waves and time my swim just right. But I held her hand the entire way. Without thinking about it, I had signed up to do the same thing, hand-holding free. Gulp.
Well, we didn't get a chance to practice, and yesterday morning I faced my fears head-on, with no one holding my hand. And it sucked. Badly.
There were seasoned triathletes shouting curse words at the breakers, and the race director welcomed us to the North Shore of Oahu. Hilarious. So I closed my eyes, pictured my lily pad waiting for me on the other side of the waves, and dove in. Miraculously, I made it past the breakers unscathed. The swimming part was worse than I imagined, with huge swells distorting my course and turning my smooth freestyle into a panicked breast stroke/dog paddle. When I finally reached the last red buoy indicating the turn into shore, I knew I was home free. I was so excited that I forgot it was just as hard to swim IN with waves as to wade OUT through waves and didn't time myself right. I got smashed to the bottom twice, got sand in places we won't discuss, and emerged from the ocean shaken and shaking. After the race, Courtney told me there were people who had to be fished out of the surf by the life guards, so by those accounts it could have been worse. I guess it's all about perspective.
High: The Cheering Section
There is nothing quite like being cheered across a finish line. My mom came to town for the Duathlon, and she, roommate Jake, and Courtney were there at the transition area every section of the race. They cheered me off on my bike, high-fived me through the run, and screamed my name across the finish line. Courtney then came all the way to Delaware with me and woke up at 6:30 on her one day a week to sleep in. She helped me get organized, took embarrassing pictures of me getting into my wet suit, and vigilantly watched me come out of the ocean, ready to jump in there and save me herself if she needed to! She then carried all my crap after the race, drove all the way home while I slept, and took me to a Melissa Ferrick concert at the end of the day. What a girl!
Low: Losing Coach John
Without a doubt, losing Coach John during the Nation's
High: Racing in memory of John and Erica, and in honor of Toby
John's passing had a special impact on my race two weeks later. I wore a ribbon (made by coach Kristin) to remember him as I was running. At several points during the race, I looked up to the sky and talked out loud to John, thanking him for his support and asking him to get me through this one final race. I pictured him up there, right next to Erica, cheering me to the finish line. I was lucky to have John and Erica in my life while I did, and I am so blessed for the moments I have had and will have with Toby. I will continue to push myself to meet new challenges in their names.
