My head still hurts as I am writing this. And if I hadn't just dropped almost $200 on registration for a third attempt at 70.3 I might just quit this gosh darn sport.
I haven't wanted much to talk about what happened for many reasons. I haven't wanted to recreate it in my head, because it was scary. And I am sad. And tired. And I feel lame. And ashamed. And weak. And I haven't wanted to listen to people correctly tell me that I am none of those things. And I haven't wanted to feel jealous of all my friends who finished and take away from their accomplishments. And I haven't wanted to revisit my plan to shoot for Ironman MD 2015. And I know that there are just as many life lessons in this second failed 70.3, and I know at some point I will bounce back and learn from this and happy happy joy joy smiles and triathlon inspiration and girl power and blah blah blah...
But right now, I feel like crap. And I don't want to bounce back. And I don't want to write about the positive parts of this experience and the last thing I want is a pep talk from friends and coaches. Sorry. But it's the truth.
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Finisher Photo
My jet ski buddy Liz and me at the end of our race
(photo credit my noon-time-race-day drinking buddy Anne Marie) |
So what happened?? I trained my ass off. I was doing great. My swim was solid, my bike was solid and I even felt great about the run. I had bricked like I had never bricked before and I knew this time I was going to get that 70.3. I was healthy and not injured, I had mastered my nutrition and I had chosen a lake swim race (Musselman 70.3 at Geneva, NY) so that I wouldn't get the swim conditions that haunted me last time.
Or so I thought.
Storms brought wind which created some wind effects on the lake. Which created white caps. On a lake. As always, I was excited about the swim. Even though I only learned to swim about two years ago, it has become my favorite part of the triathlon. And, after all, I survived Rev3 Williamsburg half swim in 2013... so I could survive a lake with a little chop, right?
Wrong.
After reaching the first turn buoy and heading directly into the waves I realized I was in way over my head. Literally. I honestly don't remember a lot. I could barely keep my head above the water. I flipped over on my back to catch my breath and couldn't even back stroke. The waves kept coming. I tried to read their pattern, but they seemed fast, furious and random. I knew it was time to give up and head to the kayak and at least take a break. I had never had to even touch a kayak in any race nor practice. I began to swim my way over and suddenly things got even worse. I couldn't breath at all, I couldn't keep myself above water. I was actually worried, for the first time since I started to do this, that I would drown. I calmed myself down enough to make it to the kayak and told the lifeguard I was out. I asked to be removed and cried.
I waited until the final wave was past and the police jet ski came and got me. He gave me really great instructions about how to get on, but I honestly couldn't understand anything he was saying to me and my body wasn't responding. I finally pulled myself up and my new buddy Liz joined me and we rode to safety.
I had to close my eyes the whole way because I was so sea sick I was afraid I was going to throw up all over my rescuer. And that's not the best way to say thanks. I had never been on a jet ski before, and I have to say I don't recommend to anyone that your first time be after being plucked from white caps. Thankful, but not fun.
Got to shore, removed my chip and cried with Liz. Anne Marie was taking pictures for the team and gave me a hug. She said she wasn't going to take a defeat picture and I asked her to. It's part of the whole experience, isn't it? So I wiped away the tears and she took the picture above... which, she points out, is perfect because I have on my HAPPY bracelet.
We went over and cheered on some very pale and disoriented people come out of the water and I know it isn't a nice thing to say at all, but they made me feel better. After packing up my bike and gear, I headed to the team tent and my awesome swim coach, Mark Edmunds, performed the most perfect random act of kindness. He asked if I wanted to go back out into the water with him and practice.
In about 20 min he completely changed how I felt about that lake.. and probably saved me from quitting open water swimming altogether. I can never thank him enough.
And then I took a nap. And had a beer. And cheered my team on. I would like to say that all was great after that, I learned the lessons of the day and I am now feeling great, but it isn't all true. There isn't a happy ending to this story, because there isn't really an ending. I am just here, with a headache, in front of my computer on another day. Taking the day off from training and will get back on schedule tomorrow.
Have since learned that:
1.) There was a
tornado that touched down near the race (long after I was in the water, but still, shows you the kind of storm we were dealing with)
2.) It was a
SUPER MOON the night before. Yep. Again. JUST like at
Williamsburg last year. By the way, I have already calculated that it is not possible for IMMD in September 2015 to have a super moon.
Labels: 70.3, musselman, ows, race report, swimming