We trained, we tried, we conquered! Team Go Girl - whose membership has swelled to and all-time high of two - completed the Seafair Triathlon in less than, um, 3 hours! Well we don't know how long it took us because the official results have not yet been posted. But as we remind each other, we did it to have fun, times be damned.
We staggered out of bed in the pre-dawn light; our bags were packed and all we had to do was put on our supersuits and go. When we opened the garage door we saw the messages chalked on the pavement: Go Girls! We Love You! Allez! Jan (I'm guessing this was for Jan Ullrich but he was dropped from the event for being a dope) and so on. I got all choked up. But we got on our bikes and did the 2.5 miles along the lake to the event at Seward Park. We saw a crane (that's good luck, right?) and one or two cars. But mostly it was very quiet, peaceful, beautiful, chilly. Approaching the transition area - where the athletes stash their stuff - it got a little more crowded. And by the time we found our pre-assigned row, there were about 100 people chattering quietly and laying out their gear, with more arriving every minute.
We had been marked up the day before the race when we picked up our packets; I'd scoped out who had the best handwriting before I came forward to have my race number and age (!) emblazoned across my limbs for all to see. (Then we went to REI and saw a few more people with the tell tale markings. Cool!) So on race day we only had to get our bearings and psyche ourselves up for the first leg of the race: the half-mile swim. Have I mentioned that it was cold? There was a light breeze coming off the lake and the sun hadn't lifted beyond the tree line yet. So yeah. It was cold. We got our wetsuits on and went down to the beach to stand with our wave. (There was a little confusion with the color of my cap - we had signed up for the Friends and Family group but when we opened our packs we saw that our swim caps were not the same color. Luckily we heard an announcement about the caps and what the colors signified, so I ran to Registration and got the right cap with just minutes to spare. They seemed to be expecting me. Go figure.) Anyway, Phyllis was looking along the spectator lines for our families and I (being near-sighted) was doing close-up reconnaissance and reading the ages on the athletes' legs. Suddenly Peter and Nigel and Lolah came strolling up, then came Jim and Ian. Our beautiful families! And their beautiful warm jackets. Hand 'em over!
We watched the first wave start their swim. Elite athletes. They were so fast that they were out of the water and on their bikes - and back - before we even got on the sand. Finally our turn came. We were the last wave. The lake was warmer than the air, so it was actually a pleasure to get wet. Standing in the water, hip deep, telling ourselves that we can do this. Quiet inside. A horn blasts and a cheer goes up and off we swim. I get kicked, punched, pushed, and pummeled. I hope I return the favor. Then things settle down and we swim our endless swim. I swim a bit more than my share because I drift a little to one side and then the other. We reach the first buoy. Dang! They must have increased the distance! Second buoy looks a long way off. We reach the second buoy. The home stretch, and I do mean stretch in the sense of somthing lengthened, widened, or distended. Swim, swim, neverending swim. Ok, finally it ends and Phyllis and I wobble on to shore. Ok, maybe I did all the wobbling. We trot to our bikes, peeling off our wetsuits, not so easy - you try it. The on with the bike gear - remember to buckle the helmets before we touch the bikes. Greaves and Anderson clans cheering us from outside the fence. Wooohoooo!
Helmet, socks, shoes, gloves, sunblock, lipgloss. Lipgloss? This is me talking, so yeah. Lipgloss. Run the bikes out to the street, mount up, and ride. Phyllis reminds me to ease into it. Gorgeous morning. More writing on the street for us. Signage! Go Phyllis! Go Vanessa! So we go. 12 miles along the lake on a pretty flat course. Short, steep climb up to the I-90 bridge. We ride eastward over the lake, through a tunnel, do the turn, come back. We are passed by a duo on a bike. Two men - the elder man behind the younger (his son?) seems to have some kind of palsy. We stop to see if we can help a woman with a flat tire. But our mountain bike tubes can't help her road bike flat. So we go on. Finding our legs now. Going fast and strong at the end. We run our bikes in, find our row (Where is my bendy tree?) and change gear for the run.
Hat, shoes, shotblock, water. Lipgloss. We run, walk, run, walk. By the time we get to a steep hillclimb we have found our running legs. But the hill slows us to a walk. That's fine. Water and yucky glucose at the top. We make the turn and run back. We're in great shape for the end, but then I catch my shoe on a metal stake and go down hard. My left knee is scraped raw and my right ankle is wrenched but not too badly. Phyllis gets me to my feet and we go on. I decide that I'm running to the finish. My legs feel good and my adrenalin is so high that I don't feel the pain. For now. Big finish. Phyllis lets me cross the line first. Peter and Nigel and Jim and Ian and Lolah meet us with kisses and hugs and flowers - and then I go off to the first aid tent to get cleaned up. Laughing and joking and knowing that the pain will come in time, but it's not here yet so it's all good.
Then we eat bananas and oranges and more bananas and bagels and smoothies. We watch the kid's triathlon and pack our gear and go home. I'm so hot and tired, but I can't sleep. My knee is starting to hurt and I'm truly, madly, deeply hungry. Shower, clean clothes, try to rest. Andersons come for dinner and to watch the Tour de France. Peter has champagne for us and Jim has a cake. I don't want the day to end. But now it's 10:21 p.m. and it's time for bed.
Phyllis is a great coach, and the best training partner. She has taken me from zero to triathlete in 9 weeks. And I'm already thinking about our next event. I need to work on the swimming and the running. September - Team Go Girl Goes Again!
