Sunday, August 28, 2011

Mystery Solved.

Muammar Gadaffi - v - Carlos Santana

 You're welcome CIA.  

You Can Call Me 5-5-7 Bitches: Memoirs of a Rookie Triathlete

I freaking did it.  Yesterday was a monumental day for yours truly as I actually competed  participated in the Indy Go Girl Triathlon and I finished ya'll.  Did I have doubts?  You betcha.  Was I doing it to win?  Hell no.  Did I follow the rigorous training schedule and regimented diet that was highly encouraged for a first time triathloner?  No I did not.  Then why did I do it?  Because I knew that I could.  Or at least I hoped that I could.  I was totally prepared to die trying.

Trust me when I say that Kev was probably more surprised than anyone that I finally decided to really do it (last weekend to be precise).  Last Sunday I asked him if he wanted to go on a 10 mile bike ride. 
Kev:  Why 10 miles?
Me:  Because that's how long the bike ride is for that triathlon next weekend.
Kev:  You're really doing that?
Me:  I think so.
Kev:  Have you been training?  Have you been swimming?  Have you even registered?
Me:  Not really, no, and no.  But I used to do swim team in high school.  And I've been running on and off all summer.  And we biked to the track in May...  Kev sighed heavily and shook his head but aired up my bike tires any ways and we were on our way downtown.  Our 10 miles were cut short by a torrential down pour of end-of-days like proportions, hail included.  We hauled ass the 4 miles back to the house, heads down, bikes blowing, but we made it dammit.   And that was my bike training.

Dude, I used to swim in high 
school. How hard can it be?
I ran on Monday and Tuesday.  2 and 3 miles.  I made a half-ass attempt to find a time to swim but before I knew it the end of the week had arrived.  Kev and I scored tickets to the Packers-v-Colts preseason game on Friday night so like a good husband he checked to make sure that I was in fact still planning on doing the tri.  But I was determined. I didn't even have one stinking beer at the game when I was offered.  Sorry folks, I'm in trainig.  It was water only for this budding triathlete. 

5:30 a.m. came early and thank you Jesus Kev had thought to put my bike (after removing the tire which I totally hadn't even thought about) into his car the night before.  I still needed to register and thus needed to get there early but someow our easy 15 minute drive 
My super-smooth 4 minute tran-
sition. Out damn rocks!  Out I say!
to Eagle Creek Park turned into a 45 minute fiasco of u-turns, wrong ways, and corn fields.  I was ready to get out and walk but Kev kept locking my damn door.  But we made it.  Tons of people there.  High energy.  I was getting excited and nauseated.  Kev kept looking at me with raised eyebrows as the hard bodied triathletes mingled between and among us and even I uttered the phrase What the hell have I gotten myself into? a few times. And then I began to see some not so hard bodied triathletes and felt immediately better.  We started with the 500 meter swim through blue green algae infested lake water.  It didn't look too bad and I thought Oh hell yeah, I can totally do this.  I was up next in the sea of 600 bodies to enter the water and I got my 'You go girl!' starting cry (which sounds totally cheesey but I swear to god it gave me goose bumps and maybe I got a little teary) and I was off in a sea of chaos.  My plan was to stay on the outside but so that was everyone's plan.  There were a few times in the first stretch where I thought This is how I die.  I get pummeled to death in a frenzy of kicking arms and legs while the life guard on her surf board adjusts her angle for maximum sun exposure.  Like fish swimming upstream, we were traveling around, over, and under one another:
It was every fish for herself.

Then there were those who turned to their backs to swim/float, but they also lost direction so as the majority of us were fighting to swim straight ahead those back swimmers criss-crossed - sometimes going perpindicuar to - traffic without a care in the world.  I admit, I ran over a few by accident but then was quick to help them course correct.  I got socked in the stomach and pummeled in the face repeatedly but I kept going.  By the last stretch we had thinned out and I kicked it into high gear as I could make out land through fogged up goggles.

If I let go of the bike I will fall.
If I let go of the bike I will fall. 
While I didn't break any Olympic records with my swim I still managed to pull it off in 15 minutes - 5 minutes less than I had estimated it would take me.  Thank you Coach Moore.  My transition time from drowned rat to road warrior was apparently 4+ minutes - about 2 minutes more than the average bear - but I didn't care.  I took my time.  Wanted to be dry.  Wiped down my poor sandy feet and hydrated.  Then I was off on the bike.  Lots of hills and some moments where I really wanted to just jump off and walk it the rest of the way, but like magic, I would get buzzed with the 'You go girl!' war cry and I stayed on that damn bike and I rode that 10 miles.

All I had left was my run.  As I rode into the transition area I got re-energized.  Ah, 3 miles of running?  Pas ne problem.  Then I jumped off my bike and my legs buckeled.  They were like jelly and I could not fathom running the 3 miles, let alone conquering the hill just to get out of the transition area.  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuug.  I was toast.  My efforts at running the hill were abismal at best so I said screw it and I walked for about 2 full minutes until I got my land legs back.  There, I said it.  I walked.  I reminded myself that I just wanted to finish and that Coach Wolfe was not going to jump out from the trees and yell Get your ass moving Herron!  I started having fun again.  I met friends who had been training for months and I also met some who were ashamed to admit that they hadn't been training much at all - Yes!  Fellow assholes!  And we ran it together.
I Freaking did it ya'll!

Throughout the entire event I was showered with You go 5-5-7! and You're almost home 5-5-7!  My favorite was This is your last hill 5-5-7! and all I wanted to do was shout back No it's not you freaking liar but I didn't.  I smiled and kept going.  Kev was there at the end, clicking away and cheering me on like a maniac.  20 minutes less than I thought it would take and I was done.