Tri-ing Experience

Obligatory pre race selfie

This is going to be a long post about the tri sprint I did in Santa Cruz, but I'll try to keep it interesting. First some context, a large part of my summer has been preparing for this event, and this past Sunday, August 13th, one of my aunt's birthdays and my parents’ anniversary, was the big day.

I started drafting this post during the swim portion and I had planned on writing about how the tri was a lesson in humility, but at one point humility became more humiliation… but I'm jumping ahead of the story.

A tri sprint is a short version of a triathlon; the distances can vary a depending on the course. The one we did, Tri Santa Cruz, had a 750 m swim, 12 mile bike ride, and a 5k run. Because this is such a shortened version of the race, I had assumed there would be other normal local people who enjoyed a challenge. I had assumed we'd fit right in; then we got there, and I realized how wrong I was.

For starters almost everyone had a road bike of some type; for the first time in my life, I felt very self-conscious wheeling my $100 Sears special from high school to its place. The next thing I noticed was most of the people had some version of a tri-suit; my party was instead running/riding in swim wear, covered by shorts and a shirt. But we had our tri wetsuits, which helped us blend in with everyone else. Before you can put that on, however, the officials write your number on both of your arms and thighs. Then they write your age on the back of your calf. I'm not sure what the purpose of that is, except to rub in how badly you're losing to people 20 years older, or 10-15 years younger.

I was the most nervous about the swim for two reasons: 1) I never was able to swim the full distance, 2) I don't have a lot of experience swimming in open water, let alone in a wetsuit. Good news, I didn't have to do this alone, I had convinced one of my best friends, Leila, and one of my brothers, Joey, to do the tri with me. Joey was in a different group, but Leila and I got grouped together for the start time so I knew that worst case I'd have someone to help drag me along for the swim.

Joey and Leila air up Joey's bike pre race

I'd like to take a moment and say how much I HATE being the weakest one in a group. Hate, hate, hate it. However, the week before our tri, I realized how much faster Leila was not only at swimming, but also at riding, and I resigned myself to the fact that my running wouldn't be able to make up the difference. Leila, however, is a much cooler friend than I and maintained that we were still gonna do it together. As for Joey, barring an injury, he will always be waaaaaaaaaay ahead of me. But considering how much more he works out, and that he's a guy, I reconciled with him beating me a long time ago.

The race began, I jumped in the water, and I started to freak out. Not because it was cold, the wetsuit solved that problem, and not because I couldn't move, the suit was surprisingly flexible, but because I couldn't see. The water was brown and muddy. Kind of like a lake, but worse. For some reason, not being able to see, and inhaling salt instead of chlorine, made me unable to figure out my breathing, "when should I exhale, when should I turn my head for more air, how can I figure it out if I can't see the bubbles?!?" Since my brain short-circuited so quickly, I switched to just keeping my head above water, which anyone could tell you, makes swimming a lot harder to do. My plan had been to alternate, freestyle with breaststroke, however, I quickly discovered, my wetsuit made breaststroke a lot more difficult. Freestyle, however, whether due to the salt water, or the the extra buoyancy of the wet suit, was a lot easier than normal and I found a groove about half way in. I did throw in a little side stroke when I needed a break. Thank you Mom for those hours in neighbors’ pools.

Leila stayed fairly close, but another woman and I alternated in a race for last place. But that was ok, I knew swimming was my weakest area, and I was just proud at how well it went. Not only was it the farthest I had swum, Leila's watch also told me it was the fastest.

Once out of the water, we grabbed our flip flops and started running back to the transition area, while attempting to pull our wetsuits down. Since I still don't have contacts, I left my goggles on so I could sort of see; even with the extra help, I almost ate it on a curb right in front of some friends who came to cheer us on. Not that I realized they were there until after we'd passed by and Leila had waved....(In my defense, my goggles were pretty foggy.)

The trickiest part about the transition was pulling the wetsuit off. I also realized how far behind we were because almost every single bike in our area was gone. (Also, Joey who started like 10 min behind us, had caught up.) We changed, and headed out. Of course the bikes start uphill and Joey quickly passed us. The friends were all waiting at the top cheering, unfortunately at that moment I was feeling rather self-conscious, so I yelled either "I hate you", or "I'm going to kill you" toward the one who organized the whole thing. I don't think she heard me.....

It quickly became obvious, that Leila and I could not do the bike ride together, attempting it would have been too dangerous. The triathlon bike and run were both along Westcliff. The sprint distance did two laps on the bike, while the international distance did four. And this is where the frustration, and humiliation, came in. I, and my beloved "cheap" bike I so proudly purchased, were passed by pretty much everyone. The first lap, I was mostly ok, spending my time drafting parts of this blog. By the second lap, I was TICKED and drafting a very different post.

As I watched person after person pass me, I realized some of them weren't pedaling any harder or faster than I was, yet they were still pulling away. People who looked less in shape than me, (yes judgmental, but I was in full comparison mode) were whizzing. I was ready to punch someone if I had to hear, "on your left", one more time! I knew my bike skills weren't that great, but I hadn't realized they were that bad. The gap between Leila and myself widened. She doesn't have a road bike either, but she's a freaking beast on her bike, and she at least got to pass some of the narrow-tired freaks.

Toward the end, I was passed by two other people with what looked like mountain bikes; that didn't improve my mood. I knew if I could get off the bike I would have a chance, the running was my strongest leg, but the gap was too great, I wasn't going to catch them. As I struggled to keep going, I let my anger mount and start to fuel me. I kept pushing, and in the second lap decided that the time to conserve energy was over. This was the event, and I was going to leave it all on the mat. Honestly, that concept was the only possible salve to my abused ego; I was getting an whooping like I'd never gotten before. At least never when competing against other women (except that one time I got to wrestle). Usually I'm a middle of a pack person, not great, but not terrible. But Sunday, I was the weakest link by a long sea mile.

An hour and four minutes later, I finally parked my bike, and took off running. I'd hoped to see Leila to high-five her, but somehow we didn't cross paths again. (I never saw Joey after he passed on the start of the bike ride either. I was kind of bummed about that. But at least he didn't lap me, which was my fear.)

I didn't fully time myself but figured after all the swimming and riding, I was probably doing a 10 min mile pace. I kept pushing but tried to save enough for a sprint at the end. I wanted to prove something after feeling humiliated, so I decided to finish strong.

As I rounded the corner and saw the finish ahead, a voice cut above the crowd, a voice I used to hear from the bleachers yelling "toes Nicole toes", on the rare occasions I'd hit the baseball. My parents had driven two hours, on their anniversary, to watch me finish the race. I cannot begin to describe how glad I was that I'd saved that last bit to sprint. I won't lie, I also almost started bawling once I crossed the finish line. And then the majority of the muscles in my body tightened and I said, "ow" and "pain, lots of pain" so I limped around making groaning noises instead.

Leila crossing the finish line

I found out later, Leila missed my finish because she'd gone to check to make sure I hadn't just given up. She didn't think I would, but she could tell I was furious when she passed me, and figured I was mad enough to pull just some crazy stunt. On her way back she heard my name called. Ironically, Joey had brought his camera, but didn't get a pic of Leila at the end, because my parents surprised him by showing up too.

Before this race, I had clung to the idea that all I had to do was train harder, and even with a poorer quality bike, I'd be able to keep up. I still think there's some truth to that, but I also recognize, I'm not that skilled. If I ever do one of these again, I may invest in a better bike. Perhaps even go so far as to buy a road bike, a contraption I have found ridiculous since childhood. (I mean, seriously, what good is something you can't go off-roading on? #datcountrydirtlife.)

Overall I think we all did pretty good. For all three of us, the run was our strongest leg compared to everyone else, but as Leila pointed out, "it's what we have the most experience with."

Leila got 77th out of 84 women, finishing the tri in 1:59:27.1. Her run was 43rd with a solid 30:34.3.

Joey was 31st out of 125 men, finishing in 1:20:50.7. His run was 11th at 19:28.8.

My final results for the tri sprint were 79th out of 84 women. I was: 76th in swimming, 83rd in biking, and 21st in running. My transition between the bike and the run was a blazing 50 seconds. As Joey said, I was an angry runner. But I got a personal best for 3 miles at 26:49.0.

We learned from this experience that apparently, normal people do not just do triathlons. There's a culture I don't fully understand around it; all I can conclude is that the participants are a bit of an odd breed who are more hardcore than I ever wish to be.

Post race

Now that I've had some time to process and cool off, I can honestly I'm glad I did it, I'm happy with both the run and swim. If I ever do something like this again though, you better bet, I'm gonna swallow my stubbornness, and get a new bike. Next time, there would be payback. I suppose that statement shows how tightly I hold onto my tattered pride. In a lot of respects, I failed, I finished last among my friends and I couldn’t keep up with other people in my age group. One of the hardest parts was accepting the well wishes and congratulations from family and friends, because I felt like a complete failure. But that’s not how they saw it, they saw someone who set a goal, worked toward it, and saw it through to the finish. That kind of support can be difficult to receive, it’s humbling because you know how much you really don’t deserve it.

To those who followed up and asked how it went, now you know why I was answering so poorly over text, there was a lot to process. To those of you cheering for us both from afar, and in person, thank you. It might be difficult for me to say in person, but I recognize the loyalty and sacrifice you made to help us finish strong.

I knew I would learn a lot about diligence and consistency, what I didn’t realize was how much this experience was going to teach me about grace. Grace that I need to give myself, and grace that is given by others.

2017 Garden Update

My garden isn't up to snuff this year. Right now I have five or six, sad little plants and lots of weeds. I didn't even turn over the dirt this year, instead I'm using the same rows from last summer. I keep telling myself I'm going to plant more, but that probably won't actually happen. That said, my sisters will be happy to hear that one of the three plants I did put in produces mini pumpkins.

Despite my lack of care there are a few plants that are surviving from last year. Most remarkably are the strawberries which aren't just alive, but thriving. Since I haven't had much success when I actually try to grow them, finding red gems tucked between green leaves was a pleasant surprise this spring. (Something else that will make my sisters happy.) Now if I can just get to them before the ants or birds.

70F with hail last week, 100+ this week

Speaking of animals stealing food, did you know rabbits love banana pepper plants? We have some wild bunnies running around and the poor pepper seems to be their favorite snack. Not quite sure what I'm going to do about that yet. If you have any suggestions, I am all ears. In the meantime, I hope the bipolar weather doesn't stress the plants too much. (What's with that by the way?) This week's challenge, can this neglectant gardener help the plants survive this hot spell, or are they gonna end up burning to a crisp?

A Thought from Work

  I manage student’s employees, but my office is removed from their physical location. Recently some work I assigned wasn't completed. I have spent most of a work week trying to obtain a status update so I could communicate what still needed to be done. All week the sheet marking their progress was not updated. Friday, I finally had enough and had to go down into their space myself to figure out what was going on. Once I understood where things stood I took a rather stern tone with them and reset expectations. 
     As I was walking downstairs to enter their work space myself I realized this is what Jesus did. God communicated from on high, made His plan clear, but because we couldn't get the job done He came down and took care of things Himself. In the time between giving His instructions, and His coming, He provided some sternly worded messages when Israel ignored their project. (Although, I would argue their punishment was much harsher then the point system we use with our students.) And in the midst of holding them accountable for their actions God always forgave, reset the goal, and promised something even better. 
     Which led me to this question; how often am I like my students who don't always understand the reason behind things, but just see our processes as tedious and mundane? How often in that ignorance do I say, "no, I have a more efficient way", to God? 

Food for Thought

I was going to write something about how spring is the herald to summer and brings with it thoughts of vacation, swimming pools, heat, and fun. Which is all true in a blustery sort of way, but I'm afraid that thought has been derailed by chocolate cake.

I can be quite emphatic about what is and is not a breakfast food. Cereal, eggs, bacon, pancakes and waffles all qualify. Quesadilla's are not (sorry, but it just ain't a breakfast burrito), leftover hamburgers aren't (gag) , pizza however is universally acceptable. That's not to say you can't eat other foods for breakfast, you can, but that doesn't automatically define it as "breakfast food".

Which leaves me wondering about cake. Ever since I read the Outsiders chocolate cake has been an acceptable thing to break ones fast with, especially if accompanied by a fried egg. But do I consider it a breakfast food? If I look at my criteria, my answer would have to be no. It's a food I enjoy eating for breakfast, often to celebrate the holidays or vacation, but categorically it remains firmly in the dessert family.

I've had several conversations with friends recently about stereotypes. This morning I realized people are like food, we put them into groups and categorized them in different ways. But just because a label has stuck doesn't mean that's the only box a person fits in. To put it in context of my breakfast choice, people are like chocolate cake, too complex to be defined by a single attribute. The more you get to know someone, the more you see their intriguing facets.

That's my deep for thinking for the week. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go finish my breakfast 'cause as my grandpa used to say "Life is short, so eat dessert first."

The Sun is Back

I loved the rain this year, but I must admit I'm excited it is finally warm enough to eat lunch outside again. It's March 9th, the trees may still be bare, but spring is here folks. Spring is definitely here.  

Jury Duty

Interesting thing about jury duty is it's the one place people are more likely to talk to strangers then completely melt into their own little world, whether world consists of a good book, homework or a "smart" device. I don't know if it's the generally shared dread of being picked that makes folks more willing to chat, or the constant warning of silence and stay off your cell phones, but you don't see that as much anymore. 

I have a friend who is giving up social media for Lent, so they can spend more time with God and invest time in people. It sounds kind of counter intuitive, but after my recent jury duty experience I get where they are coming from and am curious to see how things play out in the upcoming month for them. 

Next time you have to report for jury duty by all means bring a book, but I challenge you to see if you can't strike up a conversation. It doesn't have to be long, or continue for the duration of your service. But I promise fail or succeed it'll be interesting. As Grandpa always said "everyone's got a story to tell" and who knows, maybe you'll meet a neighbor you never knew existed.

Back or Posting on a Whim?

A two year gap, what could I possibly have been up to during that time? Answer: a lot of little things that I can't even remember at this point. I've mostly been working (yes, at the same job), oh and I have more grey hair... Exciting I know, but that's adulthood for you.

The real question, am I back to updating this wonderful blog? I guess we'll all find out in the upcoming weeks. In the meantime, how 'bout that awesome rain?