DNF (Did Not Fall): Rev3 Williamsburg Half (Attempt) Race Report

And in the end I wasn't able to finish the race. But actually, I don't think that was really bad news, just news. Also more on that below

As soon as it was deep enough, I started to swim. Nice and slow as practiced. Thinking catch-up drill the whole time. For those who haven't been reading my adventures, I literally just learned to swim in spring of 2012. This time last year I was training for a 400 meter pool sprint triathlon. I carved out a nice little space for myself, enough that I wasn't hitting people, but close enough that I could still see others around me. I, of course, only brought my brand new tinted goggles with me, expecting sunshine and it stayed completely overcast the whole time. That combined with the very dark water meant I could not see anything at all. 

I hit the first turn buoy there was suddenly all this traffic. I didn't understand what was going on. So, in my open water swim ignorance, I just did what I was taught. Put your head down, sight, sight, sight and keep going. For some reason it was really difficult to get around the buoy and after I made the turn I was suddenly completely alone. I couldn't see the shore on either side of me and none of the people I had seen and passed before were around me. I figured my mind was just playing tricks on me, so I did what I was told to do. Swim to the next sight buoy. I felt strong, so I cut my sighting down to every sixth stroke, kept going, buoy in sight, buoy in sight, but it seemed to be moving farther and farther from me. And the one I just turned around seemed to be chasing me. Once again, thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

I saw some folks around me grab onto kayaks. And I got a little annoyed when the kayaks seemed to be entering into the swim path directly. I had never really seen that happen before. In the other open water races I had been in the swimmers always got themselves to the kayaks. I didn't think too much of it, and once again, just put my head down and kept swimming. I could finally see the final turn buoy ahead of me. It too felt like it was running away from me. I saw a few people swim to the left of it and I was confused. I kept wondering if I was doing it wrong... no, buoy on the right.. keep it between you and the shore. Was I turned around or something?

I made the turn and put my head down one last time. At that point I think I started to realize that something was off, and it wasn't just me and my head. I felt strong, I was really proud of myself, I had even passed some folks and chicked some of the boys in the prior waves, but when I came up into the shallow water to move onto the land, I think there were only three or four people behind me. WTF? The swim felt long, and I felt like I was a little off course, but I certainly wasn't THAT bad. And I wasn't off course as much as several of the people I saw.

I began my high knee jog/walk out of the water, extra careful to avoid the big metal sign sticking out of the water stating motorized vehicles were prohibited. Just as I was about to gracefully pass it I kicked its hidden legs under the water, falling flat on my face with my mouth open hollering "f**k." Since I was one of only a handful of people left, the photographer was probably focused right on me. Great. Awesome. I was at that point laughing, because I am the only triathlete, I think, to suffer falls in both the run and the swim, but not the bike. I stood up, walked passed the sign and then tripped on a rock.

I didn't worry too much about it, just figured I would do my best and moved towards the first transition. I saw my parents, teammates and coaches along the way and that definitely helped keep me going. There was some talk among the surrounding people about how difficult the swim was, but again I was so focused on what I needed to do in transition, I didn't really listen. I noticed once I got on my bike that my legs were way more tired than usual.

The Bike: I am usually strong on the bike. And this time, I was not. I am pleased I finished it, but about 25 miles in is where I think I first realized I wasn't ready for this yet. I could do each of the parts on their own, but my body didn't yet know how to handle them all put together. I was glad I had learned to bike alone, because after my swim I was all alone. I rode for a while with a stranger named Dee who was sweet and helped keep me company for a while, but after about 35 miles I really started to fade. I did my nutrition as planned and practiced, but I just don't think I have the electrolytes right yet. The weather cooperated with us completely, as it wasn't that hot until the end of the bike. But it was towards the end that I started to feel miserable. I didn't hurt. It wasn't my mind giving up. It was a feeling I had never had before. There was nothing on that bike route that I had never done before and nothing that was all that challenging. I came in just around four hours, which is a little slow for me but not bad at all. I should not have felt that terrible. Thanks also to Fredrik for hanging back with me and passing on encouraging words a few times along the way.

The Run: Or as I like to call it, "The short-slow-disoriented-walk-with-the-Jesus-guy." I had been told by one of the organizers on the bike portion of the race that I wasn't going to make cut-off, and honestly, I was happy. I was in no shape to run. But when I go to the second transition, missing cut-off by about 10 min, they said go ahead, thy weren't cutting me off. My very good friends Nate and Kris were there waiting and I immediately starting crying. The exhaustion of the day broke down all my defenses and I think the loses of the prior week (two friends to suicide) finally started to kick in. I couldn't get my heart rate down, I was dizzy, I was crying. But I took off the bike shoes, put on my trusty Team Z hat and hit the road. Joe from multisport ministries said he was going to stay with me and bring me across the finish line.  My plan was to jog four minutes and walk one until I could get myself back into my body and run. I saw Becky and KR at the fist water station and it was wonderful to see them. Megan came up about to start her second loop. I saw Beth out on the path and she and I talked a bit, she said I could do it. Numerous Team Zers and non Zers were out there encouraging me. But I just couldn't do it that day. Salt wasn't working. Coke wasn't working. Water wasn't working. Everything was shutting down. And most importantly, I just simply didn't want to do it. 

I couldn't stop crying. And weird part was I wasn't sad that I wasn't going to finish the race. That wasn't why I was crying. I don't think I was even crying out of sadness for the loss of my friends. I was simply done. That is all I could tell the police and firemen who helped drive me back to the finish line. I didn't need a medic, I didn't need an IV or anything... I was finished.

The End: I walked to the Team Z tent in tears, Nate gave me a much needed strong hug and it felt great to be so supported as I could barely stand. I saw my parents and I was a mess but wanted to reassure everyone I was okay and I was not hurt and I was not disappointed in myself. At no point did I feel the need to beat myself up. I was so proud of myself for getting through that swim... and the more I learned about the swim afterwards, the more proud I was. The post-race stories were a little like those big fish stories where the fish that was caught keeps getting bigger and bigger, but word was something like this:

Lessons:

1.) Team Z is awesome awesome awesome amazing incredible wonderful. I knew this already, but it was reinforced this past weekend. I love you all so much I can never express it. Thank you for letting me be part of such a special force in the world.

2.) I am not yet ready to train for Ironman. I am going to take this fall to focus on the Olympic distance, getting faster and lighter. Then spend time next year mastering the half. After that, who knows? We all train at different speeds/levels and I am thankful to the universe for making my decision to not yet train for a full triathlon so obvious and clear.

3.) I need to more scientifically evaluate my sweat, hydration and electrolytes. I thought I had conquered the sweating issue caused by the side effects of the medications, but I have not.

4.) Recovery is wonderful and necessary. Take it as seriously as you do your long rides, track work, strength training, etc.

5.) Let go of the things that don't really matter and you can't control. Focus energy on the things that do matter and you can control.

6.) Water is amazing. Respect its power.

7.) Celebrate all your personal records -- even if they are just PRs for that day, in those conditions at that moment. In one of his emails Coach Ed apologized to us for having to experience the swim conditions were did -- but I am thankful for the experience. I can truly call myself a swimmer now.

8.) It is still possible to win even if you don't finish.

Thank yous to: I almost don't want to write this because I KNOW I am going to forget someone, but here is my best attempt at thanking all the folks who helped me have such a great race: Megan O, Tami, Nate, Mom & Dad, Ed, Alexis, Mark the swim coach, Nikki, Becky & KR, Kris, Aileen (my partner in physics experiments), my therapist and psychiatrist (oh yeah, pulling a Ron Artest here), Katie W, MJ, Patty G, Patti J, Fredrik (hey look I didn't fall down on the run!), Big Daddy Abe, Andrene, Nurse Mad Dog, Kathy S, Marie, Tommy Boy, Beth, Donna, Val, Felisha, Mark T, My sissy Lorna, Teena Marie the best crazy dog ever.. oh, I am sure there are a million more. I am just so thankful.