Okay, here is the disclaimer. This is going to be a very long post about the triathlon we did over the weekend. It is going to be full of monotonous detail, little chunks of entertainment, and a lot of thoughts. If you are not up for that type of commitment, you’d better go read People magazine because this will be both boring and without any celebrity cameos.
The adventure started on Saturday when we headed to Asheville to get checked into the hotel, “pick up our packet” and “go to the pre-race meeting”. I seriously knew what none of these things meant with the exception of the hotel part. Actually, I am incorrect, the excitement started Friday night when my husband decided to shave his body to get “ready for the race”. Yes, I had a sober adult discussion with him about how to go about shaving his legs..with a razor. He also shaved his chest, back and legs. Somehow in his mind his arms didn’t warrant shaving. I didn’t get it, but I didn’t argue. 8 months ago the man didn’t exercise, suddenly he is shaving his body hair in the name of fitness he is so serious about it. I feel like my life is weird sometimes. I digress.
“Picking up your packet” means going to the race site where you show your ID, get a packet full of stuff with lots of instructions and get your t-shirt (the important part for me, I would eat poo if there was a t-shirt involved) and get a look at what you are getting yourself into. You are given 3 sets of numbers: one goes on your bike where it will rub your leg and get in the way of your water bottle, another goes on the front of your bike helmet so you can look like an even bigger goof than if you are just wearing spandex, and the last one goes on your shirt or race belt while you run so there is something for you to swear at and try to fix while you are running to serve as a distraction.
“Going to the race meeting” means standing around a bunch of uptight, Type A personalities (most of which hadn’t done a triathlon before) while they tried to scream questions at some poor guy who was balancing on a fence so he could yell loud enough for us to hear him.
“Why couldn’t you hear him” you may ask? Well, it just so happened that every African-American person in Asheville had come to the park for the “Real Families Picnic” (I don’t really understand what that means and am confused) and there was a sound system and everyone was free stylin’ with the mic yo. I’m not kidding. Nothing like trying to figure out how not to get disqualified from the swim while some guy and some buddies are layin’ down a beat by gettin’ jiggy wit it and “keepin’ it real for da hoz” (direct quote).
Among the things I have learned here, I have been informed by several African-American people at work that they do indeed tan and do not like to be called African-American. I have also been informed that they do not swim. Seriously…not at all with the swimming. They actually said on the nightly news here lately that black people are 3X more likely to drown than their counterparts. No clue as to why.
There was a lot of irony involved as all of the really fit white folks in technical t-shirts and sensible sandals were very confused by what was happening up the hill with the rapping and da beatz, and occasionally someone dressed in a gold shiny Celtics jersey or short shorts holding a plate of barbecue would accidentally walk through our area and try to get out of it as quickly as possible for fear of being captured and made engage in our exercise lunacy.
It was just really bizarre.
Oh and there was an ice cream truck that kept dragging by the meeting with the mind-bending music thinking one of the really fit people was going to come to their senses that they wanted a bomb pop in the middle of the meeting?
So then we went to eat Mexican food….I know, it was all we could find at the time. Then went to the motel and set out labeling everything and getting our things together for the next morning. On top of the Lycra, we also needed shoes, socks, hat, number belt, bike helmet, bike gloves, stuff to eat/drink, swim cap and goggles. For those that know me from my childhood, you will know that I usually packed all of those things in my school bag to take with me in case something came up during the day. I will get into where you actually put all of this stuff later. We went to sleep with the alarm set the next day for 5 a.m.
It is really dark at 5 a.m. Seriously. It was also pretty chilly in the mountains (around 60) so we had on a couple layers over our race clothes. We ate something, loaded up the car and headed over to get set up.
There were all kinds of folks at this thing. This was a first timer “friendly” race as well as a favorite for really good racers, so it was a crazy mix of folks who had no clue what they were doing and people that knew exactly what they were doing and were intimidating (see man riding bike with child on his bike while not wearing shoes). We put six bikes on a rack at our assigned spots and went to set up our “transition areas”. In a triathlon you swim, then run out and change into bike gear, then come back and change into running gear all at a little towel area you claim for yourself by your bike. You set everything out in a orderly fashion so you can screw it up as little as possible as you are kinda deranged between events trying to hurry to the next one (a lady rode the whole bike race with her gloves on upside down because she was hurrying). Kinda like the suitcase race at field day in 3rd grade with serious adults…If you were a bystander at this thing and stopped to watch, it would be hysterical.
So, you get your junk organized and then go over to “body marking” where people write your race number on you with giant markers. They do it on both shoulders, both thighs, and then write your race category on your calf. They really like to keep track of you as you could potentially fall over in the ditch at any point along the 12 mile bike course or 3 mile run course and they would have no idea the last place you were otherwise. My number was 241 and my calf got a great big “N” for novice..which is code for “if I am looking lost or in distress please help me because I am completely clueless as to what is happening”. After all that you stand around waiting for the deal to start.
SWIM:
I was the 241st person into the pool (there were 300) and we took off swimming. This was the part that was the scariest to me. I had only been swimming in a 17 meter pool and was now swimming in a 50 meter pool for 8 lengths. I figured I would go too fast, then have to stop and get passed by everyone. My main goal became just not to drink any of the pool water as I was certain it was full of pee. Don’t ask why I thought that.
It actually went very well for me. I passed a bunch of people, went at a good pace, and didn’t stop once. Wait, I did have to stop when all the sudden there was a big backup as a lady was BACKSTROKING with a whip kick and taking people out all over the place. She was like Jackie Chan of the triathlon, accidentally beating the crap out of everyone. It was even worse because she was with the “novice” division so none of us had any clue as to what to do about it. I just gave up and kinda timed it so I jumped over her leg somehow and kept going.
I was really happy with how smooth I was going as I neared the end. Then I “chicked” a guy. It is by far the most fun athletic thing I have ever done. “Chicking” someone in triathlon means that a girl passes a guy…I have no idea what they call the reverse…could rhyme with “chick” but imply male and I won’t write it in my blog for fear of my mother. Anyway, the guy started 10 seconds ahead of me, but I caught him by the end even though he was not going to let me. He was right on my tail as I hauled myself out of the water onto the land and staggered towards the timing mat (records time) barely beating him. Ten minutes was my time. Awesome. Exactly what I thought I could do if everything went perfectly. And I chicked a dude. I would have broken my leg before I let him get in front of me once we were out of the water.
TRANSITION 1:
So I make it to my little place and put myself together for my bike ride. Socks are hard to put on wet feet and the bike seat is slippery when your pants are wet. All obvious to the brain, but much scarier in real life.
BIKE:
Jake and I drove the course the night before and knew it was going to be brutal. I am not even exaggerating brutal. Although I had pointed out to him several weeks earlier that doing our first triathlon in the MOUNTAINS may not be bright…I need to be more insistent.
So I started up the bike course. I am in pretty good shape on the bike (see prior blog about Jake’s patent pending training methods) but I had no idea how bad of shape everyone else would be in. I can’t even explain how hard it was but there were people walking their bikes up the hills in bike shoes (not easy) and barfing on the side of the road…and they weren’t first timers either.
I managed to ride the whole thing without stopping on my trusty mountain bike (may have had an advantage for once) and passed 20 people or so, only getting passed by 2. There were volunteers and police at all of the intersections to make sure I didn’t end up a grease spot on the road and I yelled “thanks” to all of them and asked a few if they wanted to trade me places…they declined. I think it was all the barfing around me that was scaring them away.
When I pedaled to the finish I was super proud of myself since I had finished in under 45 minutes (better than my goal), but knew that I had pushed too hard on the bike and the run was going to be nasty as my legs were REALLY TIRED.
TRANSITION 2:
So Jake put some super cool shoelaces in my shoes but I didn’t pay enough attention to figure out how to work them….note to self….problem. You have heard the expression “a monkey doing a math problem”…get me a banana because I was confused. My number belt also proved pretty confusing as it migrated up/down, in circles as I never did use it correctly.
RUN:
I did manage to get going and my goal was to run as much as I could without stopping. I knew that walking if I needed to was good so I could keep going but that if I started walking I would not want to run anymore. It was kind of a lonely 3 miles. I chatted sporadically with people that I passed or that passed me or that were running the other way but I had no one to hang out with. I managed the whole thing without walking once. That was way more than I thought I would be able to do. I even passed some folks..Look out, I am speedy!
I saw Jake on the running course twice. Once on my way in with my bike, and once on my way out to the turn around as he was headed back in. He started the swim 10 spots ahead of me and I knew he would be faster than me in all of the aspects of the race, but knew I was going at a great pace when he was still running when I came in off of the bike. It was very funny to kiss him goodbye at the beginning, but really fun to see him towards the end. I think we may have been the only couple racing the race at the same time.
I was worried I would not do as well without him (we run together) as I am a weenie and depend on him for random things that I don’t like to figure out for myself (and lack patience for), like telling me what bike gear to be in and putting fun laces in my shoes. Strangely enough, he has the same shirt on and build as several other guys so I was thoroughly over friendly to several people from a distance only to realize it was not Jake as they got closer…that is awkward…no where really to run off to or anything to do except for avoid eye contact and be very busy with your watch.
Anyway, you can hear the crowd at the end from about a mile out, so that really pushed me through to the finish. Jake was standing at the turn into the last half mile and that was fun…he took some really unflattering pictures of my terrible running form and “ORCA” shirt…Good god.
It was fantastic to come across the finish line and hear the PA guy butcher my name “War-chest-ter” and I was shocked when I hit my watch and it said 34 minutes for the run with an overall time of 1 hour and 32 minutes. That was great. My over-achiever goal was going to be 1:30, and when I saw the bike course I thought I would be 8-10 minutes slower. I was so excited.
After that was over I got myself back together and we waited for some ladies we met on Jake’s bike rack that were fun. They were from Clemson and new to the triathlon stuff too. We had chatted before the race, in the swim line, then intermittently as we passed each other during the race. It was fun to have people to cheer you on and to cheer on for sure. We chatted afterwards and they are thinking about doing a triathlon here around Greenwood in October and we may go see them at the Clemson race next year.
So in the end Jake came in 2nd place with 13 novice males, and I was 6th out of 21 novice females. We both were awesome on the swim and bike (Jake had the best swim and bike legs in his group, and I was 3rd on the bike and around 10th on the swim though my split didn’t register for some reason) and terrible at the run (Jake was 11th and I was 12th in our respective groups). I am really not overly concerned as the bike course was super mean and I am just proud to have finished it without walking my bike, much less having enough “go” left to run the whole 3.1 miles without stopping. On June 7th I ran my first 5K and on July 20th I ran a 5K after swimming 400 meters and riding my bike 12 miles. Not bad improvement really. Jake has of course broken down the whole thing in his head to all the ways we can improve, but for right now I am pretty happy to be dragging my very sore self around the house as a “triathlete” this morning.
The adventure started on Saturday when we headed to Asheville to get checked into the hotel, “pick up our packet” and “go to the pre-race meeting”. I seriously knew what none of these things meant with the exception of the hotel part. Actually, I am incorrect, the excitement started Friday night when my husband decided to shave his body to get “ready for the race”. Yes, I had a sober adult discussion with him about how to go about shaving his legs..with a razor. He also shaved his chest, back and legs. Somehow in his mind his arms didn’t warrant shaving. I didn’t get it, but I didn’t argue. 8 months ago the man didn’t exercise, suddenly he is shaving his body hair in the name of fitness he is so serious about it. I feel like my life is weird sometimes. I digress.
“Picking up your packet” means going to the race site where you show your ID, get a packet full of stuff with lots of instructions and get your t-shirt (the important part for me, I would eat poo if there was a t-shirt involved) and get a look at what you are getting yourself into. You are given 3 sets of numbers: one goes on your bike where it will rub your leg and get in the way of your water bottle, another goes on the front of your bike helmet so you can look like an even bigger goof than if you are just wearing spandex, and the last one goes on your shirt or race belt while you run so there is something for you to swear at and try to fix while you are running to serve as a distraction.
“Going to the race meeting” means standing around a bunch of uptight, Type A personalities (most of which hadn’t done a triathlon before) while they tried to scream questions at some poor guy who was balancing on a fence so he could yell loud enough for us to hear him.
“Why couldn’t you hear him” you may ask? Well, it just so happened that every African-American person in Asheville had come to the park for the “Real Families Picnic” (I don’t really understand what that means and am confused) and there was a sound system and everyone was free stylin’ with the mic yo. I’m not kidding. Nothing like trying to figure out how not to get disqualified from the swim while some guy and some buddies are layin’ down a beat by gettin’ jiggy wit it and “keepin’ it real for da hoz” (direct quote).
Among the things I have learned here, I have been informed by several African-American people at work that they do indeed tan and do not like to be called African-American. I have also been informed that they do not swim. Seriously…not at all with the swimming. They actually said on the nightly news here lately that black people are 3X more likely to drown than their counterparts. No clue as to why.
There was a lot of irony involved as all of the really fit white folks in technical t-shirts and sensible sandals were very confused by what was happening up the hill with the rapping and da beatz, and occasionally someone dressed in a gold shiny Celtics jersey or short shorts holding a plate of barbecue would accidentally walk through our area and try to get out of it as quickly as possible for fear of being captured and made engage in our exercise lunacy.
It was just really bizarre.
Oh and there was an ice cream truck that kept dragging by the meeting with the mind-bending music thinking one of the really fit people was going to come to their senses that they wanted a bomb pop in the middle of the meeting?
So then we went to eat Mexican food….I know, it was all we could find at the time. Then went to the motel and set out labeling everything and getting our things together for the next morning. On top of the Lycra, we also needed shoes, socks, hat, number belt, bike helmet, bike gloves, stuff to eat/drink, swim cap and goggles. For those that know me from my childhood, you will know that I usually packed all of those things in my school bag to take with me in case something came up during the day. I will get into where you actually put all of this stuff later. We went to sleep with the alarm set the next day for 5 a.m.
It is really dark at 5 a.m. Seriously. It was also pretty chilly in the mountains (around 60) so we had on a couple layers over our race clothes. We ate something, loaded up the car and headed over to get set up.
There were all kinds of folks at this thing. This was a first timer “friendly” race as well as a favorite for really good racers, so it was a crazy mix of folks who had no clue what they were doing and people that knew exactly what they were doing and were intimidating (see man riding bike with child on his bike while not wearing shoes). We put six bikes on a rack at our assigned spots and went to set up our “transition areas”. In a triathlon you swim, then run out and change into bike gear, then come back and change into running gear all at a little towel area you claim for yourself by your bike. You set everything out in a orderly fashion so you can screw it up as little as possible as you are kinda deranged between events trying to hurry to the next one (a lady rode the whole bike race with her gloves on upside down because she was hurrying). Kinda like the suitcase race at field day in 3rd grade with serious adults…If you were a bystander at this thing and stopped to watch, it would be hysterical.
So, you get your junk organized and then go over to “body marking” where people write your race number on you with giant markers. They do it on both shoulders, both thighs, and then write your race category on your calf. They really like to keep track of you as you could potentially fall over in the ditch at any point along the 12 mile bike course or 3 mile run course and they would have no idea the last place you were otherwise. My number was 241 and my calf got a great big “N” for novice..which is code for “if I am looking lost or in distress please help me because I am completely clueless as to what is happening”. After all that you stand around waiting for the deal to start.
SWIM:
I was the 241st person into the pool (there were 300) and we took off swimming. This was the part that was the scariest to me. I had only been swimming in a 17 meter pool and was now swimming in a 50 meter pool for 8 lengths. I figured I would go too fast, then have to stop and get passed by everyone. My main goal became just not to drink any of the pool water as I was certain it was full of pee. Don’t ask why I thought that.
It actually went very well for me. I passed a bunch of people, went at a good pace, and didn’t stop once. Wait, I did have to stop when all the sudden there was a big backup as a lady was BACKSTROKING with a whip kick and taking people out all over the place. She was like Jackie Chan of the triathlon, accidentally beating the crap out of everyone. It was even worse because she was with the “novice” division so none of us had any clue as to what to do about it. I just gave up and kinda timed it so I jumped over her leg somehow and kept going.
I was really happy with how smooth I was going as I neared the end. Then I “chicked” a guy. It is by far the most fun athletic thing I have ever done. “Chicking” someone in triathlon means that a girl passes a guy…I have no idea what they call the reverse…could rhyme with “chick” but imply male and I won’t write it in my blog for fear of my mother. Anyway, the guy started 10 seconds ahead of me, but I caught him by the end even though he was not going to let me. He was right on my tail as I hauled myself out of the water onto the land and staggered towards the timing mat (records time) barely beating him. Ten minutes was my time. Awesome. Exactly what I thought I could do if everything went perfectly. And I chicked a dude. I would have broken my leg before I let him get in front of me once we were out of the water.
TRANSITION 1:
So I make it to my little place and put myself together for my bike ride. Socks are hard to put on wet feet and the bike seat is slippery when your pants are wet. All obvious to the brain, but much scarier in real life.
BIKE:
Jake and I drove the course the night before and knew it was going to be brutal. I am not even exaggerating brutal. Although I had pointed out to him several weeks earlier that doing our first triathlon in the MOUNTAINS may not be bright…I need to be more insistent.
So I started up the bike course. I am in pretty good shape on the bike (see prior blog about Jake’s patent pending training methods) but I had no idea how bad of shape everyone else would be in. I can’t even explain how hard it was but there were people walking their bikes up the hills in bike shoes (not easy) and barfing on the side of the road…and they weren’t first timers either.
I managed to ride the whole thing without stopping on my trusty mountain bike (may have had an advantage for once) and passed 20 people or so, only getting passed by 2. There were volunteers and police at all of the intersections to make sure I didn’t end up a grease spot on the road and I yelled “thanks” to all of them and asked a few if they wanted to trade me places…they declined. I think it was all the barfing around me that was scaring them away.
When I pedaled to the finish I was super proud of myself since I had finished in under 45 minutes (better than my goal), but knew that I had pushed too hard on the bike and the run was going to be nasty as my legs were REALLY TIRED.
TRANSITION 2:
So Jake put some super cool shoelaces in my shoes but I didn’t pay enough attention to figure out how to work them….note to self….problem. You have heard the expression “a monkey doing a math problem”…get me a banana because I was confused. My number belt also proved pretty confusing as it migrated up/down, in circles as I never did use it correctly.
RUN:
I did manage to get going and my goal was to run as much as I could without stopping. I knew that walking if I needed to was good so I could keep going but that if I started walking I would not want to run anymore. It was kind of a lonely 3 miles. I chatted sporadically with people that I passed or that passed me or that were running the other way but I had no one to hang out with. I managed the whole thing without walking once. That was way more than I thought I would be able to do. I even passed some folks..Look out, I am speedy!
I saw Jake on the running course twice. Once on my way in with my bike, and once on my way out to the turn around as he was headed back in. He started the swim 10 spots ahead of me and I knew he would be faster than me in all of the aspects of the race, but knew I was going at a great pace when he was still running when I came in off of the bike. It was very funny to kiss him goodbye at the beginning, but really fun to see him towards the end. I think we may have been the only couple racing the race at the same time.
I was worried I would not do as well without him (we run together) as I am a weenie and depend on him for random things that I don’t like to figure out for myself (and lack patience for), like telling me what bike gear to be in and putting fun laces in my shoes. Strangely enough, he has the same shirt on and build as several other guys so I was thoroughly over friendly to several people from a distance only to realize it was not Jake as they got closer…that is awkward…no where really to run off to or anything to do except for avoid eye contact and be very busy with your watch.
Anyway, you can hear the crowd at the end from about a mile out, so that really pushed me through to the finish. Jake was standing at the turn into the last half mile and that was fun…he took some really unflattering pictures of my terrible running form and “ORCA” shirt…Good god.
It was fantastic to come across the finish line and hear the PA guy butcher my name “War-chest-ter” and I was shocked when I hit my watch and it said 34 minutes for the run with an overall time of 1 hour and 32 minutes. That was great. My over-achiever goal was going to be 1:30, and when I saw the bike course I thought I would be 8-10 minutes slower. I was so excited.
After that was over I got myself back together and we waited for some ladies we met on Jake’s bike rack that were fun. They were from Clemson and new to the triathlon stuff too. We had chatted before the race, in the swim line, then intermittently as we passed each other during the race. It was fun to have people to cheer you on and to cheer on for sure. We chatted afterwards and they are thinking about doing a triathlon here around Greenwood in October and we may go see them at the Clemson race next year.
So in the end Jake came in 2nd place with 13 novice males, and I was 6th out of 21 novice females. We both were awesome on the swim and bike (Jake had the best swim and bike legs in his group, and I was 3rd on the bike and around 10th on the swim though my split didn’t register for some reason) and terrible at the run (Jake was 11th and I was 12th in our respective groups). I am really not overly concerned as the bike course was super mean and I am just proud to have finished it without walking my bike, much less having enough “go” left to run the whole 3.1 miles without stopping. On June 7th I ran my first 5K and on July 20th I ran a 5K after swimming 400 meters and riding my bike 12 miles. Not bad improvement really. Jake has of course broken down the whole thing in his head to all the ways we can improve, but for right now I am pretty happy to be dragging my very sore self around the house as a “triathlete” this morning.
