46:29 / 3:30 / 2:45:33
this weekend was also the 2 year anniversary for dave and i. two years ago this weekend we discovered there was something there between us (well, he discovered - finally; i knew all along). we thought it appropriate to celebrate it at the same location we started it. i'd lined up a B&B dave had no knowledge of, and i was very excited.
funny thing - remember how my last post was about how we were swimming at MB and dave asked me if i was trying to vomit? at the time i'd brushed it off as just seasickness, something i've been dealing with ever since "the accident". silly me. nope it was a full-blown GI bug. monday i only lasted half a day at work, and tuesday i was home again. wednesday i wasn't stellar, but i had to go in. thursday at lunch i finally ate my first meal that didn't cause my stomach to completely lock down in cramps. that didn't bode well for the weekend, but i did my best to put it out of my mind.
friday morning we got up and got things done, and we hit the road. we took our time getting there, we knew we'd hit traffic near SB. we hit a little, it wasn't bad. plus a little rain. we went straight to the expo, saw some LATC folks, and then i took dave to our weekend home. they'd left us a bottle of champagne and chocolates in our room. it was a very nice touch. friday night we ate a little italian place just blocks away from our hotel, and had an absolutely wonderful meal. sat right by the open window across from the docks, drank some wine and just relaxed.
saturday morning came, and i'd decided i just wanted to get through the bike. i'd been feeling better, but i knew that with dehydration for most of this past week, i couldn't expect much of myself. walking my bike into transition the waves of nausea hit again. so annoying. i didn't feel right all morning, and i was attributing it to nerves. however, it stopped me from eating anything but apple juice. that's all i had. not good planning for a very long and hot race.
dave's wave went off 15 min ahead of mine. this was good - he and i got into the water before he left. after he left i went back out 2 more times. i realized that if i stood out in the wind and waited for my wave, i'd freeze so i just stayed in the water. i'd already been out and got some good strokes under my belt so i was just sitting in the waves. i put my goggles on my head since i wasn't swimming again until my wave was to go off. the VERY NEXT FUCKING WAVE took my goggles. i saw it coming, i kicked over it, but i didn't clear it and my goggles were gone. i was so pissed. i don't think in the history of the world there has been another stupid girl who's lost more sets of goggles > $50/pair. i came up cussing, as expected. i was watching for them, and i watched as late as i could. there was another sweet girl who gave me directions to her transition bag for a spare set, but that was all the way back in transition. while on the way there, i passed by one of the vendors, and thankfully he let me take a $15 pair of speedos and pay him back after the race. i told dave - just watch, those damn $15 speedos will be with me for the rest of my triathlon career.
i was very nervous about this swim. my prep MB swims have all been half-milers, and i didn't really feel ready for it. i was about 97.2% sure i could do it, but that 2.8% kept sticking to me. the swim was a bit crowded. it seemed that at every single buoy there was a mass of us trying to get around it. the spaces between buoys were completely barren. little annoying. as i was coming down the last stretch i remember the pics dave got of me in that stretch 2 years ago. granted it was 2 years ago, and a lot's happened since then, plus the course was shorter by 80%, but i felt so much stronger then. this time, i was elated but exhausted.
transition wasn't too bad. kinda surprised it was 3 min, didn't feel like it. i'm sure a lot of it was transit and not ride prep. the legs were a little tired in the first couple miles. throughout the first 10 miles or so i contemplated turning around and heading back to transition. i didn't feel like i had anything left to move. my legs were just shot. i tried to drink and eat, eating helped a bit. i knew there were 3 big hills on this ride. the first caught me off-guard, thought it was a little further into the ride than that. the second i knew was coming, i'd remembered it on the map i'd looked at. after the second i thought "ok, doesn't matter what the 3rd looks like - it's the last one. after that i'll be done with the ride." even felt good enough to tentatively plan to get out on the run, if nothing else get in a mile or two.
and then the third hill came.
there's one substantial hill, you hit the crest, take an immediate left downhill. at the crest i had to stop and catch my breath. i was wiped. little did i know, at the bottom of that downhill, you took a right and went right back up the fucking hill, steeper and longer this time. needless to say it didn't go well for me. soon i was to the point where it was either stand or just plain fall over because i wasn't moving or i was moving so slowly. that's a vicious cycle i tell ya. next thing i knew, i couldn't do shit without standing. and then of course, my legs blew out from the standing and i just was done. over. finished. pulled an oceanside and walked my fucking bike up the hill. here i am, fatty in a neon red onesie, previous half IM finisher, walking my $6k bike up the final hill of a measly 34 mile course. awesome. i was a little more than mortified. i watched my fellow fatties in onesies pass me, slowly, but at least they were ON their bikes. soon came the beach surfer dude, on the converted beach cruiser (cruiser with mtn bike wheels), no shirt on, his race number TUCKED IN to the back of his docker-like shorts, tennis shoes. yep. that dude passed me. not only did he pass me, he informed me at the same time that the top was only 500ft away. i'd reached a new low of absolute mortification. not to worry, i'm laughing now. but then, oh it was not so funny. he was right, and i coasted for the next 3 miles or so. thankfully. of course there was one more little hill before transition, and that's where i caught my surfer friend again. he asked me if i wanted to go first up the hill, and i told him that at that point i just didn't give a shit. he then asked that i "let" him go first. i laughed. he was serious. somehow, asshole that i am, i still passed him on the way up. in no way did i mean to, trust me. felt like a total d-bag. my bad surfer dude. didn't mean to screw you there.
rolled into transition and came to my rack. a fellow fatty that'd passed me towards the end was on the ground changing her shoes. i wished her luck, told her she was on her own, and pointed her to the run out. i couldn't really move yet. i was just standing there watching tons of people FINISH THE RUN. i was bummed. really bummed. but then i realized i'd be able to see dave finish at least. i went to put my bike up, and there was dave, walking through transition with a banana in his hand. he'd already finished. i'd missed him too.
i was not really at all impressed with my performance. having to walk your bike up a hill is just enough to really make you question whether you really should continue with this sport or not. thoughts like that crept into my mind shortly after i racked my bike. i brushed it off, and reminded myself i'd been very sick and very dehydrated, and this was what happens. i did this sport for fun, and to spend time with my hubby. he'd finished, he was happy with his finish, and i was with him. past that, it didn't really matter. all that said, next year i WILL be back to nail that course.
that night we had another lovely meal, just relaxed and enjoyed each other. we walked along State St for quite awhile, and then all at once we were tired. we were back in our rooms and in bed by 8:30pm. we joked that because of triathlon, we were permanent early-birders, quick to bed and quick to rise. we'd just go right on in to old age with the same bedtime we've had for years.
all in all, it was a decent race. i very badly wanted to beat my oceanside swim time (i know one's a 1.2 and the other a mile), but that's how poorly i thought my swimming ability has become. i'm pleased with 46min. it could've been worse. and my bike, well, i finished the damn thing. past that, whatever. here on out, though, no more excuses. i'm ready to get on with it, i want to be able to do pretty well at LA, and even more comfortable with Soma in october. that's the plan, stan.
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