Tri Tri again

In the Fall of 2007 Russ, Dave, Eric and I participated in a triathlon in Austin. This year we decided to Tri, Tri again. So back to Austin we headed for Labor Day weekend. Russ, Jen, Dave and Lara (Dave's sister and friend of mine from highschool)

It's always extra special to participate with Russ, I'm grateful we had willing sister-in-laws that made that possible.

>They announced that we had 5 minutes before we had to leave the transition area, so we started heading out, Russ just happened to squeeze his tire on our way out when he realized it was completely flat. Apparently there was an exposed screw that had punctured the tube. He quickly ran over to the sponsoring bike shop's tent and asked for a miracle. They repaired the tire in about 3 minutes flat (pardon the pun) and he was able to re-rack his bike and be out of the area in time. Now that's a pit crew for you.


We were a little wetter, a little sweatier, and absolutely exhausted, but glad for the experience.

I have to admit I'm not exactly sure how I feel about the whole triathlon experience. I really like training for them. I like doing laps in a pool where I hear absolute silence, and I can just meditate. I like going to spin classes at the YMCA where the teacher plays African music and I close my eyes and cycle my guts out pretending I am being chased by a cheetah. I love running with a friend early in the morning and having uninterrupted adult conversation. The problem is, from the second a triathlon starts until if finishes I am absolutely miserable.

The swim is not a relaxing meditative experience. It is hundreds of bodies swimming all over you, kicking you in the face and then swimming past you, only to see the next wave of swimmers coming behind you ready to pass you too. My goggles became a little foggy and I kept having to correct myself to make sure I was going the right direction. Towards the end I had to yell to one of the volunteers in a kayak, "where do you turn to get to the finish line". The answer was by the big red buoy right in front of you that I didn't see because
my goggles were too foggy. (and yes I did try the spit in them technique)

Then on the bike I made the mistake of not ever riding the bike I was borrowing prior to the actual race. (pretty bad idea on my part, I know) I had trained solely on stationary bikes at the gym, so the gears were a little confusing to me. I thought I had understood the verbal instructions I was given, but during the race it was 17 miles of pure agony not figuring out how to adjust things correctly. After it was over I was telling this to my brother-in-law who explained that I had done the whole race in 1st gear. I been moving the gears on the right from 1-7 thinking I was adjusting the gears, but apparently it was the left handed gears I should have adjusted. I had tried adjusting those early on but it made a clickety sound that scared me so I had stopped tinkering with those. Serves me right.

During the run I felt a little more in my element but it was a very hot day and I was pretty spent.

Having said all this I must admit I'm glad I did it, and I'll probably sign up for the next one too.

It seems like in every race I participate in (notice I did not say "compete in") I have a lesson that I learn, or a little inspiration that I glean.

Lately when ever the kids say they can't do something, whether it's homework, chores, etc because it is too hard, I always say that O.K., because "YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS", it's kind of become a family mantra that I must say multiple times every day. (I think I heard it from Obama so it's probably copyrighted). As the race was finishing up and I wanted to just walk and slow down I imagined the kids saying to me, "Mom, you can do hard things". That gave me the strength to give it my all and endure to the end. I hope as different life challenges arise, and I have problems adjusting into high gear, I will always remember, "I can do hard things".