Flats and Friends.

There's really nothing good about anything flat... being flat-chested, riding a flat bike course (hello, headwind!), having a flat butt, or getting flat tires.  I've been up since 3am, but now the events of the day are finally settling in.  Yesterday I talked to my dad and told him how a lot of people who had signed up for the Silicon Valley Long Course triathlon had dropped out because of the change in swim locations, the early bike drop off, and the logistical challenges.



"So, why are you doing it, then?" he asked kindly.  I was speechless.  The thought of quitting even before the event took place never even occurred to me.  I was reminded of this athlete's point of view.  "When it comes to living, it is better to DNF than DNS."


I came into today with a specific time goal in mind.  Only one other person knew about it; we had done the math on my splits and it seemed achievable....definitely not easy, and definitely cutting it close, but still somewhat within my grasp.  I've never had a time goal in a race, and we were banking on the fact that if I achieved it, I would be joining her on a flight to Oklahoma in September to race. 


I saw Jamii at the swim start.  This girl deserves an entire post dedicated to her and her exponential growth as a triathlete.  Seeing her made me happy; familiar faces at race starts always help to calm the nerves. (btw, today was her birthday, and she welcomed another year of her life with a podium finish.  Not to mention she just started doing triathlon less than a year ago!)


I was happy with my swim and ended up with the fastest time in my age group. (At least one good thing came out of today!) The wave starts were so spread out so far between the men and the women that I ended up swimming the entire swim alone until I caught the slower men from the earlier waves.  I love my new TYR Hurricane wetsuit.  It was our first swim together (so much for 'not trying anything new on race day,' huh?) and so far it's love at first swim.

Check out the tongue action!

I told myself earlier today I was going to RACE my bike.  Not just meander along and use it as a "training ride," but really see what these legs had in them. I kept thinking of this poem:

But I changed the words around and made it, "Swim like your coach is watching, Bike like you've never crashed..." Today was the 3-week mark from my horrible crash, but I biked fearlessly (and safely) today.  When others were spinning, I was laying down the hammer.  I was racing my bike!  Then, the party ended.  Halfway through the bike, I discovered I had a flat tire in my front wheel. It was such a Debbie Downer (wah-wah-wah).


"This is good practice. You know what to do..." I told myself this to stay calm.  I've never flatted in a race.  I was doing fine until I was trying to fit the tire over the new tube.  I flagged down a guy who happened to be the perfect person to "bother."  Turns out he was completely off course from his sprint triathlon bike course and was totally lost and totally nice, so he didn't mind.


To make a long story short, it took 5 different cyclists and various tubes and patch kits to get me up and running again.  During those 45 minutes that we were all on the side of the road, I wanted to quit and just wait for the SAG vehicle.  I really didn't care anymore.  But then it was fixed, so Mike decided to finish up the long course bike route with me.  He was good company, and made the remaining miles go by faster.  My attitude completely changed.  It was more about being thankful for genuinely good people in life and enjoying a beautiful day on my bike with my new friend, rather than a time goal.


We came into T2 and lost each other for a bit.  I ran the first 2 miles alone and hated every step. I thought how much fun I wasn't having, and how I wanted to quit. (How do you even drop out of these races? Should I finish the first 6 mile loop and then turn in my timing chip? But weren't they giving out swim preems for the fastest times? If I dropped out, I wouldn't qualify, right?) These were the delusional thoughts that were going through my head.  Until I saw Mike.  He was like my freakin' angel in a blue jersey.  Apparently, he had run ahead of me and spotted me on the turn-around running to mile 3.  He really was going to run 13.1 miles! This was huge since he's never done more than an Olympic distance triathlon before. It gave me new purpose to finish- to see someone accomplish their own big goal.  


I was tired and couldn't spare any extra oxygen to talk, so I asked him to tell me a story.  He kept me entertained for 11 miles with his stories about his traveling to Bolivia, New Zealand, Ecuador, Peru, Rome and France.  We shared Clif Shotblocks and jokes, and he kept my mind intrigued and made the miles pass so much more quickly.  He ran with me and never made me feel slow.  He called it "steady" and assured me that it was the best way to quadruple an anticipated race distance and best assimilate a "sprinter" into a long-course athlete.  

Today I learned that the company you surround yourself with is a large predictor of your own success and your attitude.  Alone, I wanted to quit. Together with Mike, we both achieved our own version of "success."  Success for me today was merely finishing and not throwing in the towel, and his was defined by reaching a new milestone in triathlon distance.  By stating his goal, it gave me renewed purpose in finishing.  

As we were nearing the finish chute, I asked if we could hold hands as we crossed the finish line.  He agreed.  To me, this symbolized the heart and soul of this sport- overcoming obstacles, persevering, and helping one another achieve something greater than he or she could accomplish alone.  And that, my friends, is so much more important than nailing a personal time goal.

Friends for 38 of the last 70.3 miles, but memories to last for a lifetime