Sweet, sweet finish line

I have to say, the feeling of victory and being finished didn't last that long. It does feel good that the race isn't still hanging over my head, though.

Now I have this weird feeling of wondering how I'm going to continue to work out with a full-on school and dance schedule (yes, I know dance is exercise, but it's not real cardio compared to what I've been doing). The quickest solution I can think of is to try to go to ballet class twice a week (Mon. and Wed.), yoga on Tues. (maybe with a 20 minute run thrown in for good cardio measure), company class Thurs., and then whatever I feel like doing Fri., Sat., Sun. Maybe I can run, or maybe Leif and I can join the Y to swim laps and lift weights. Ulgh, maybe just one ballet per week so I don't lose my technique.

Okay, here's the best play-by-play of the race that I can possibly remember:

• I arrived late: 6:15ish instead of 6. Ungodly hour. I was chatting with my parents (who slept over so that they could come to the race) and drinking coffee and eating breakfast, and then I was like SHIT I have to leave.
  
• I carried all my crap around (while wheeling my bike) to the front of the Natatorium. There were tons of people and a stage and music playing, like a damn festival. I bet people in the surrounding apartments were pissed.
• I got written on with a permanent marker (my race number, 487). Back of the calf and top of the arm.
• Stuck a number on my (borrowed) bike and wheeled it into the transition area to set up my "station" (i.e., a towel on the ground with my racebelt/number, water bottle, socks specially folded on top of unlaced shoes, and helmet with straps properly splayed. I perched my bike on the rack. Lots of accouterments for triathlons (wow, I've been spelling that wrong for a while).
• I brought my bag o-shit to the table where the rest of my classmates and coach were. I put on an Exerfit tattoo to represent my "team" and my instructor has us huddle up. And then: she cried while giving us last minute instructions and reminders. I was shocked. She is, apparently, one of those great teachers who is cool and calm on the surface and is 100% into loving what she is doing on the inside. I was extremely touched and taken off guard by how proud of us she was, and I was already nervous and full of adrenaline, so I was trying really hard not to let a few tears turn into a full-on sob.
• Then we listened to instructions through the speakers on the stage. The woman said there was a change in course: we no longer have to jog around the Indian mounds due to construction, so the running part is a little less than two miles. We are glad.
• I pulled on my latex cap, grabbbed my goggles and ear plugs, got my time chip anklet at a table, and joined the herd moving into the Natatorium for the swim portion. Somewhere along the way I realized that I left my second towel (for drying off only) in my bag and the transition area is now closed. I would have to use the grassy towel that is acting as a carpet for my race accessories.
• As we all crowd into the Natatorium, the hallway smells like farts. Everyone is nervous.
• We try to line up according to what we think is our swim time. This girl Allison and I look for the 9 minutes even though I am a ten minutes person. I'd rather be passed up than have to pass somebody else--takes extra energy and expertise that I don't have.
• I put my goggles on way early to see if they will fog up. We wait a very long time and chat nervously while other people swim. One girl jumps in about every five seconds.
• My body got very nervous when it was almost my turn. I decided I would jump right in instead of doing the sit-and-scoot that some others were doing. I told myself that it's just a race, just for fun, doesn't matter what my "numbers" end up being. Over and over.
  
• I hung on to my earplugs and goggles and jumped in. I had a great first lap, and then it was a challenge the second my cardiovascular endurance started flagging. The goal (that I made up when I was in line) was to do at least two lengths of freestyle before resorting to breaststroke. Each lap was 50 meters, total of 350 meters. Leif recorded my lap times on his phone and told me later (that fool loves him some data):
  

1:11 minutes
1:26
1:25
1:21
1:29
1:40
1:27

• On the website it said my time was 10 min 30 seconds, I think. There was an awkward lap of getting stuck behind some yellow-capped woman, and a log jam at the final ladder, but overall, I swam about the best I could. My body was a complete noodle when I was helped onto the ladder and out of the water, and my mom was right there yelling "the worst is over!" I wanted to jog to the transition area but I was too out of breath. "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" was playing on the loudspeaker, which is an obnoxious soundtrack to a bunch of women busting their asses, in my opinion.
  
• Mom, Dad, and Leif followed me out to the transition area and told me how I did (over the fence) while I suited up for the bike ride. The were very excited for me, which made it more fun. Leif whipped out his cell phone and reported that I averaged about a minute and a half for each lap. That amused me. I definitely wanted to stay and chat instead of getting on the bike.
  
• The bike ride went fine. My thighs were burning and I was breathing heavily most of the way, but I didn't rest or stop. I went at a fairly steady speed--definitely not my max. 12 miles ended up taking me 49 min and 36 sec. It feels like about ten minutes when I look back on it, but that is quite a long time to just ride a bike. Luckily, Ang and Ben let me borrow a super light road bike that glides easily, so I didn't work as hard as I would have with my mountain bike. I got back in and transitioned for the run. Leif and Dad said I was fast.
  
• Then the dreaded run. It was past nine o' clock by the time I started, and the sun was beating down. The air was hot and thick. The previous (cloudy and windy) Saturday, I was able to bike 14 miles and run 2 without stopping, so I thought I'd at least be able to shuffle the two miles without slowing to a walk. Not so. I walked quite a bit of it and jogged off and on. I'd woken up that morning with some kind of a cold, so my chest felt really inflamed and tight with phlegm. It ended up taking 24 minutes 26 seconds to finish. Leif and Dad met me out by the tennis courts and kind of jogged alongside me, so it didn't really feel like a race at that point. I told them I felt beyond overheated and could no longer push myself too hard.
  
• But I did run across the finish line. The announcer on the stage said my name and said that I "brought it." And then said "You are a Rocketchick! Congratulations!" I put my fists in the air. My mom filmed it. "Can't Touch This" was playing on the loudspeaker. The atmosphere of the whole event was really supportive and fun. I went and hugged/thanked my coach, and I told her my race time. Hugged my family. I think my mom was a little teary-eyed, which was surprising. I got a big ole coffee mug with the Rocketchix logo and "Finisher" on it. Then we watched the awards. The winners were all inspiring-looking with incredible times, and it was extra-awesome to see the winning ladies in the 55-60 and 65-and-up age categories. Dad said later that the people with the best times were in their thirties and forties, which is interesting because there's a 13-19 category, a 20-24, and a 25-29. I guess the race ended up being a bigger deal than I'd imagined it was going to be. It just sounded so dinky at first.
  

My total time ended up being 1 hour and 29 seconds. After looking at the ranking website, I quantify that as "not bad for a first timer." I was talking to my friend Sarah about it later, and I said I felt like "a jack of all trades and a master of none," and that it was totally okay. Actually, it was great. This is the hardest thing for me--to really try something 100% and not be that great at it. It's a big fear of mine. And it came true: I was not naturally fabulous at swimming, biking, or running, but I did all three to completion at my own pace, and that is what feels so satisfying. That and the fact that I got to participate--I didn't "miss out," and I didn't watch from the sidelines just because I was afraid I wasn't going to be perfect. There was an itchy feeling when I was in line to swim and watching other women in the pool: I wanted to get in there and feel what it was like. And I got to get in there and do it.

• Oh yeah, one more thing: the Natatorium was closed post-race, but I was feeling crappy and overheated and I wanted to go take another dip in the pool. Luckily, some dude was coming outside, so I got him to let me in. I was all by myself except for this one woman who was working on something at the other end of the place. It was such a quiet contrast to the crowd noise and stupid music outside. I got in and slipped underwater. It was so cold and refreshing. And let's just say I didn't have to wait in line at the portalet.
  

I got my "medal" today when I went to the gynecologist. The nurse took my blood pressure and said, "awesome blood pressure, girl." 110/60. Now that is exciting.