Weekend Adventure; San Diego International Triathlon

This past weekend I participated in the San Diego International Triathlon.  It was a weekend road trip with good friends.

The week leading up to the trip was full of drama.  We were planning to take my van but I noticed it was leaking something on Monday afternoon.  I took the van in to be checked out on Tuesday and on Wednesday morning got the word from the dealership that the car was not safe to drive.  I decided to rent a car for the week.  The van was going to be a big enough headache and I wasn't interested in dragging my kids with me to drop my husband off and pick him up from work.  Thursday was my baby boy's 5th birthday so I was running around like crazy trying to get a party together.  I was very distracted and not really stressing out about the trip and race.  I would have preferred no car drama but it is what it is.

On Friday I finally started to get into the traveling groove.  I managed to get all my gear packed and then I got my bike secured and finally got my suitcase put together.  I had very little confidence in my bike rack.  It just didn't seem like it was built to carry a bike for 6+ hours at 80+mph.  Call me paranoid.

Oh, but before I could had it all assembled and loaded I had to deal with a my never flat tire going flat and a big chain mess.  So, 30 minutes before the pretty picture up top was taken my bike looked more like this.

Flat tire removed and chain mess.

Luckily I was able to get a decent night of sleep on Friday.  I stayed up too late but I was actually able to fall  asleep and didn't wake up until 4:00 a.m.  Once up I ate some breakfast and loaded up the car and was on my way.

I picked up my friends, Maryann and Jen, at 6:30 a.m. and by 7:00 a.m. we were at our first Starbucks stop and on our way out of town.  

This adventure brought to you by Starbucks.

After much silliness we arrived in San Diego at about 1:30 p.m., checked into the the hotel, got spooked by the mini-bar and headed out to packet pick-up.  The Sheraton we stayed at was very convenient for this race.  The staging area was about a 15 minute walk from the room and the run course actually went right through the hotel parking lot.

The view of the swim course looking toward the hotel.

I picked up my packet and got some information about the transition area and a general lay of the land.  We then headed back to our room to relax for a bit and get ready for dinner.

The view from our second floor balcony.

Once back in the room I remembered that I needed to take a ride out and check out the bike course.  So we packed the course map up and headed out on the road.  What a mistake.  I was stunned/overwhelmed/frozen with fear at the hills on the bike course.  I am used to riding hills but I also like the reward of the downhill following the work from the uphill.  This course felt like it climbed forever.  The problem is that I was just as spooked about going downhill fast as I was about trying to haul my butt up the hills.

I kept it together pretty well during dinner.  On the way back to the hotel Jen suggested that I take the bike out for a quick ride just to make sure that nothing had happened to it during the drive.   I took the bike out for a short ride back toward the race staging area and everything felt fine except that I was starting to get anxious.  I am always a bit anxious before the race and I hadn't been anxious at all up to this point.  It was a rapid downward spiral.  I couldn't focus on anything and felt like everything was a blur.  I also hadn't had much of an appetite and I could tell the girls were worried that I hadn't taken in enough to get through the race.  We were driving around at 9:00 p.m. looking for food.  I pretty much knew by that point that I was not going to sleep.

In this case the monsters were anything race related.  I went into this race so easy-going.  No time expectations, I just wanted to experience it all.  Then I saw the bike course and decided I was going to somehow manage to die.  I hate anxiety.  So, around 1:00 a.m. I decided that it didn't matter what time I got to transition to set my place up, my spot was reserved and I just didn't care.  Also, I decided I was never racing again.  I hate the angst and the physical torment from the anxiety.  At that point it just wasn't worth it to me.  Finally, I fell asleep.

I was up at 4:00 a.m. but moving very slowly.  There was no rush as I did all the normal pre-race stuff.  I was fed and out the door at 5:45 a.m.  The first hitch was that the gate out of the hotel parking lot and into the park was locked.  I had to detour through the same dirt lot all the other athletes had to use.  Not a big deal but it did slow me down a bit.  Once I made it to the chaos of the race I just went into race mode.  I stopped for body marking and then went to find my transition spot.  I paid a premium for the race to have VIP status in case I didn't make it to packet pick-up on time but this meant that I had a space reserved in transition area.  This was awesome!

It was 6:15 by the time I made it to my transition spot so I didn't have much time to fuss with my gear. Everything was set up but I had the nagging feeling that I was forgetting something.  I asked the nice ladies around me about when to put on wet suits.  They were very helpful and my nerves were at bay.  I gathered up my swim gear and headed over to the potties.

Luckily, I found a relatively quiet spot to wait for my swim wave.  There was about 1.25 hours between the close of the transition area and the start of my wave.  I chatted with some very friendly and supportive new friends.  I was calm and it was nice.

I was super excited to see Jen and Maryann heading toward the starting area.  I felt a little lonely and wanted to know where they were going to be.  Once I checked in with them and got some help closing up my wet suit, I waded out into the water.

Getting excited about being in the water.

There was plenty of chatting and goofing around in the water waiting for the start.  We got some last minute directions from the guy on the boat.  Then very suddenly the gun went off.  I had tried to position myself as to not get run over or stuck behind slower swimmer.  I did pretty well.  I held back and tried to pace myself for about the first 100m.  The swim was amazing and awesome and thrilling.  I felt powerful and strong and I just kept going faster and faster.  I loved every minute of it.  I loved passing and finding my way through the pack.  Loved it!

Finished with the swim and feeling pretty darn good.

I worked my way out of my wet suit and went through my T1 mental checklist.  I was so happy to be on the end of the rack and so close to the bike out.  I had no idea my Super Friends were waiting for me at the bike mount but I heard my name and cheering and it was a really good feeling.

Okay, so after all my stress and anxiety the bike was very fun.  It was hard but I know how to ride hills. It was not scary and I never felt out of control.  I chatted with a few other racers and thanked as many volunteers as I could.  The hills were rewarding and the view and moment of peace at the top turn around point amazing.  I hope I never forget that sense of calm as rolled through the turn around.

There was one major climb on the way back to transition and then it was a screaming downhill.  I yelled, "weeeeeeeee" at one point and it was joy.  I was almost done and it was fun.  I spun my legs out at I approached T2 trying to get them loose.  It worked.

I took off on the run and was determined to just get through it.  My last few running races have been miserable and I just wanted to soak in the beautiful course.  I mean, who knows if I am ever going to get back to this place to do this sort of thing.  I tried to hold a steady pace but was not concerned with speed or time.  I slowed at the water stations and I actually enjoyed the run.  At one point I looked up and this was the view:

 

I was happy when I finished the race.  I had accomplished some pretty amazing things.  I still haven't quite wrapped my brain around the ease and thrill of open water swimming.  Four months ago I couldn't even imagine getting in the water.  I was also impressed with my ability to climb on the bike.  It hurt and I was sucking wind but it was doable.  Finally, I was glad that I was able to take a step back from the competition and just enjoy the run.  

The rest of the weekend is a blur but it was fun.  We enjoyed some beach time as both Maryann and Jen took on ocean open water swimming.  I sat on the beach and rested in the relative quiet.

Taking on the waves at La Jolla Shores.

Then there was this adventure in checking into and then out of and then into our hotel for the second night.  The first place we check in to had a great location and beautiful view but the room was infested with flies and the hotel was in no hurry to find us a new room.  We were in a hurry to get the heck out of there.  We found a nice place to stay in Hotel Circle.  It was generic but comfortable and the restaurant made a mean margarita.  

Post race refueling.

 Sunday night I slept very well.  We were up early to get on the road before rush hour.  I was sore and just ready to be home.  The drive between San Diego and Yuma was uneventful.  Then at the Yuma Border Patrol Checkpoint this happened.

Flat Tire

The tire on the rental car went flat at the most perfect place.  I would have rather not had to deal with a flat at all but had this happened just a minutes later we would have been in the middle of the hot desert.  I'm sure Maryann could have changed the tire but we still would have had to drive back to Yuma to trade out the car.   It was a surprising end to an eventful weekend.

When all is said and done, I had a great weekend.  Traveling with friends was fun and refreshing and the race was memorable and rewarding.  I wish I hadn't had my freak out and mental breakdown.  Sometimes I just can't keep fear and self doubt at bay.  It is a goal to work toward.

Next up is the Deuces Olympic Distance Triathlon in September.  Of course I am going to race again :)

First Races

On Saturday night I participated in the Meet Me Downtown 5k.  I did the run last year and was alone and still had a good time.  This year I was surrounded not only by my husband but plenty of running friends, new and old.  This turned out to be a special event for me.  A chance to remember the joy of first races and to jog myself down memory lane.

I've been running races for 10 years.  I can vividly remember the very first time I ran with purpose and I think at the time that meant I ran about 100 yards.  I was elated and gasping for air but it felt like the beginning of something.  I kept running but nothing over the top and I certainly wasn't training for anything.  Then in the Fall of 2001 I started to lose weight and exercise became a required part of my life.  I was loving my spinning classes and running a bit.  Finally, in the Spring of 2002 I had lost 40 lbs and felt invincible.  Being 25, recently out of grad school and fully employed helped with the invincible part.  Anyway, I decided to join up with the American Diabetes Association's version of "Team in Training" and train for the Dublin Marathon.  Then I was running with purpose.

I trained consistently through the Spring and Summer of 2002.  Running felt good.  I had a 13 mile training run coming up and came across the America's Finest City Half Marathon in San Diego.  So, I signed up and headed out for the weekend.  Oh to be young and free again.  I am reliving this story because this was my first road race.  I didn't go the normal route and train for a 5k, then 10k and then half marathon.  My first goal was a marathon and this half was just a training run.  I was too naive to know that it was a pressure filled situation.  I just went to run, in San Diego, with a whole bunch of other people.

The week leading up to this race I had injured my right knee.  I didn't think much of it.  It felt stiff but not really swollen.  During the race the pain was significant for the first 4 miles and then it just went numb.  I think the magnitude of the distance, my exhaustion, and first race elation caught up with me when I saw the finish line.  I remember the joy I felt and the release from so much self doubt and years of carrying around extra weight and emotional baggage.  I had achieved something pretty impressive.  It is also the fastest I have yet to complete a half marathon at 2:18.  

Unfortunately, it would be my first and last race for some time.  My knee was significantly injured.  I had torn my meniscus on a training run and then proceeded to run 13.1 hard miles on the injury.  It took about 6 months for the orthopedist to get it all sorted out and I had my first knee surgery over New Year's 2003.  Fun times.  

It felt like it took forever for the knee to heal and one of my first races back in the game was the 5k associated with the San Francisco Marathon in July 2003.  Again, I just signed up for this race because it sounded like fun and Jamie and I were planning a trip to the Bay Area.

My knee only held out for a few more months but I had my second surgery in November 2003.  It was then diagnosed as Osteoarthritis and the doctor described it as a devastating injury for someone so young.  I was told I would outlive my knee and never run again.  Blah.

Maybe it was young age or something else but I guess I never felt a sense of awe in my running.  I guess I still don't.  It is just something that I do.  I get nervous before races.  I get lazy in my training.  I hope for faster times.  

This weekend I had the chance to see running and racing from a different perspective.  I have a few friends, in their mid-30's, moms just like me, who have decided to start running.  I am so impressed by them.  I can't imagine starting now.  Finding the time and motivation to begin a new habit.  A habit that at times is more of a chore than a joy.  Or, maybe that is just my jaded perspective.

The Meet Me Downtown 5k was the culmination of their months of 5k training and they were so excited, nervous, and full of questions.  I so often forget that a 5k is a real and lasting accomplishment because for me the distance is an easy training run.  See, I'm jaded.  It was a treat to live this out with them.

This race was pretty crowded.  It has great atmosphere with a live band playing and the sun setting.  The only problems are that it is hot and crowded and this year we had bonus forest fire smoke.  Joy.

We worked out pre-race jitters with pictures and a trip to the bathroom.  

I only know 3 of these people.

This was the view from where we finally settled in the starting corral.

My husband is the dark haired guy in the red shirt right in the middle of the picture.

The race started and I went out fast.  I went out too fast.  It was seriously 100 degrees, we'd been out volunteering for about 2 hours before the race and there was smoke in the air.  I should have taken it easy.  If only I were less competitive.  At mile 1.5 I had a side stitch and my mouth was dry.  At mile 2 I walked through the water station trying to settle my breathing down and by mile 3 I was convincing myself to keep running.  It wasn't a terrible race.  I did feel nauseous at one point and thought I was going to lose my lunch.  I felt light-headed a couple of times but mostly I was just anxious to be finished.

I finished in a slow 32:05.  Whatever.  I could beat myself up but it wouldn't do any good.  The conditions were terrible and, well, I haven't done much speed work lately.  Lesson learned.   You have to actually train to go faster.  Duh.

The best part of the evening (besides the rare chance to race with my husband) was watching my good friends cross their first finish line.  They worked so hard and for them this was a huge accomplishment.  I am so proud of them.  I am an emotional person to begin with and I nearly lost it when my friend, Jen, came barreling toward the finish.  You could see the pain and relief and joy in her face.  

My friend finishing her first 5k race.

There are so many times that I take my accomplishments, fitness, and training for granted.  It is just what I do.  I want to be faster and fitter and place higher but I forget that there are so many people out there who wish that they could do all these things that I take for granted.  I hope that in some small way I am able to inspire someone to try and push their physical limits and fears.

Thank you to my friends, training buddies, and fellow racers for inspiring me.

Racing teaches us to challenge ourselves. It teaches us to push beyond where we thought we could go. It helps us to find out what we are made of. This is what we do. This is what it's all about. 

 ~Patti Sue Plummer (running)