The TravelDiva is a Triathlete

For the few of you that actually follow along with me, you know that I was training to do my 1st Triathlon. That crazy girl, Becca, convinced me to do The Nation's Triathlon with her and being the challenge sucker that I am, I accepted the challenge.

It is done! I FINISHED! It wasn't pretty and my stats are nothing that will get me a sponsor or anything (HOWEVER-I would be glad to do this again and again if West Point would make me an honorary Triathlon Team member and let me wear that FABULOUS gear & use one of their bikes...HINT, HINT USMA!...I'd be glad to be the WooPoo old grad mascot for the team...Please & Thank You.) but I FINISHED MY FIRST TRIATHLON!

And I feel great. Nothing that 800mg of ibuprofen every 4 hours won't cure...at least for me.

My 1st Triathlon was an experience. I can say awesome experience now that it is all over with, but in the midst of it...all I could say was "This is some BOOLSHYT!" At least that was the look on my face as I got out of the water. The FireMarshall got me down to the race site by 5:30am and it was POURING DOWN RAIN. I stood in the transition area, setting up my gear, IN THE POURING RAIN. All I could do was laugh.

Swim. Bike. Run. Swim a mile, Bike 25 miles, Run 6 miles. That's what I did this past Sunday.

Swim...A whole lot harder that I ever thought possible. For me it was a tad harrowing. I was ready for people bumping into me and me them. What I was not ready for was just downright rude and aggressive swimmers that almost drowned me. If I was a weaker swimmer or prone to panicking, I probably would have had to be pulled out of the water. People would just push you out of the way...and when this guy pushed down on my back and swam over me (I was all like a scuba diver, swimming underwater - fuggin baztard) it was time for me to fight. I mentally designated my swim zone around me and if you got within one inch of me - you got an elbow or a push. If I felt you touch my feet or legs - you got kicked. Da hell wit all ya'll. I wanted to get the eff out the damn water on my own and if it required me to fight someone to do it - well, too bad.

I finished the swim in under an hour (barely) - and that was my goal. ACHEIVED.

I was crushed that I didn't hear anybody from my cheering section when I got out the water, but I had to keep it moving. I had to get into the transition area and get ready to for the Bike section of the race. Come to find out later, the FireMarshall was tee hee'ing and eating donuts with Becca & my support staff and by time they looked at their watches to see where I was at, I had already gotten out of the water and was on my bike at about mile 10. HUMPH.

I walked-shuffled to the transition area to prepare for the bike ride. I got to my bike, pulled my bike shoes & helmet from under the trashbags I stashed them under (to keep them dry), wiped my bike down with the hand towel I brought, pulled out my snack (hardboiled egg & a bananna) and then it hit me...I gotta pee. DAMN. DAMN. DAMN. DAMN. DAMN. I don't have time to go and find a porta-potty, stand in line & pull this damn tri-suit off & back on just to pee. What is a Diva to do? Well, I had 4 bottles of water in my pack...I stood there, ate my egg and, well...I took care of business right there in the rain. A Triathlete has got to do what she's got to do. I used two bottles of water to "rinse" off, jumped on my bike and began the 25 mile trek.

Bike...that was the longest 25 miles of my life on a bike that was NOT meant for racing. The only thing it was good for was navigating the potholes and other debri on the road. Those knobby mountain bike tires came in handy. There were a lot of triathletes that hit one of DC's famous road holes and were out of commission on the side of the road changing a tire. I was so sick and tired of hearing "ON YOUR LEFT" (meaning they were passing you). I KNOW DAG NABBIT!!! SO FUGGIN PASS ALREADY!!!. The only people I passed on that mountain bike were the people broke down. Sigh. It took me 2 DAMN HOURS to do that 25 miles. 2 DAMN HOURS.

I must have hit the wall around mile 20. We were going into that last 5 mile stretch into a park like area and I must have been delerious. I looked at the otherside of the road and it looked like everyone was going UPHILL on that last 2 1/2 miles back. I freaked out. There was no way I was going to be able to finish the bike going uphill. I just didn't have anything left. I burst into tears and started cussing. Just as I was about to just jump off and throw the bike down, we came to the turn around - low & behold - it was downhill. OH! I can do that.

My spirit was renewed when I hit the Lincoln Memorial and saw Princess Erin there cheering and taking pictures. As I rounded the last curb to the dismount, I suddenly heard my name being yelled by the "Support Team". They were so loud - THANK YOU JESUS. Without them standing there yelling, jumping up and down and egging me on I don't think I would have finished. They gave me the strength to go 6 more miles. I racked my bike, drank an XS Energy Shot, put on my running shoes and got started to finish.

Run...They say your legs feel like bricks after the bike portion. Ummm...mine felt like concrete blocks so I decided to do my best imitation of an Airborn Shuffle and kept it moving. Those 6 miles felt like 15. I got around to the last .2 miles of the race and suddenly The FireMarshall comes up behind me and says "Come on baby, let's take it in." I burst into tears and picked up the pace. Then came Erin and they ran with me till about I had 400 meters left so they could be at the other end of the Finish Line. If you could call that last 400 meters a sprint, that's what I did...VICTORY!


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