Posts
Goals
15 years ago
Friday, June 12, 2009
Rallying the troops
I pissed you off.
You saw me coming;
I wasn't fast enough
to take you by surprise.
Now you've reared your head,
hit below the belt,
made the fight
more personal
than it already was.
You won't stop me.
You won't win.
I'll run faster,
bike harder,
glide farther through the water.
That was just
my first swing.
I was just
warming up.
I'm regrouping,
rallying the troops.
And this time I'll stomp harder
when I cross that finish line.
Move on.
Don't bother.
Your cause is a lost one.
You won't win.
You saw me coming;
I wasn't fast enough
to take you by surprise.
Now you've reared your head,
hit below the belt,
made the fight
more personal
than it already was.
You won't stop me.
You won't win.
I'll run faster,
bike harder,
glide farther through the water.
That was just
my first swing.
I was just
warming up.
I'm regrouping,
rallying the troops.
And this time I'll stomp harder
when I cross that finish line.
Move on.
Don't bother.
Your cause is a lost one.
You won't win.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Goals realized and future challenges
So it was event weekend. The one that I had been training for these past seven months.
The weather forecast was less than stellar with rain looming all weekend and thunderstorms on the horizon for Sunday morning.
Packet pick up began on Saturday afternoon and we headed up so I could get my assignment. I made my way through the hotel to the conference room, signed the waiver releasing my family from the right to sue everyone and their brother should I die during the event, and got in line to pick up my number. I reached into my purse for my wallet so I could have my photo ID ready.
Oops.
My wallet was sitting on the kitchen counter.
So we headed back home and I quickly made the trip back up by myself.
This was not a good start to the weekend.
I had my nerves last week, so race weekend left me mostly calm, just ready to get on with the event.
We had a nice dinner out to celebrate my mom's birthday at Vino's on 1st Avenue and then headed home for an early night in.
The thunderstorms moved in as promised, interrupting my restless sleep.
The alarm on my watch went off at 4:45 and I rolled over to turn off the bedside alarm.
Only I couldn't.
The power had been knocked out by the storms.
Oh, this was not good.
I had packed my transition bag with all of my gear the night before, so that was no big deal. The bike had a final tuning Saturday afternoon, so it was good to go.
Fortunately my mom had already been up and had water in the tea kettle for her morning tea and power had only been out for about 20 minutes before we had gotten up. I was able to make some lukewarm oatmeal for my pre-race breakfast.
My husband and I set out 15 minutes ahead of schedule to the race site, with my dad, mom and father-in-law about half an hour behind us.
The storms moved out, leaving a heavily overcast sky in its wake.
As I pushed my bike to the body marking area, I ran into my swim coach and quickly arranged to meet on the beach for a warm up once my transition area was arranged.
I went through the line to have my race number, 85, written on both arms, both legs and my division marker on my right calf. I picked up my timing chip and headed into transition to layout my gear.
I found a spot on the last rack for my division, a great spot in my opinion, as they were color coded. All I need to remember was that I was at the last orange rack on the right instead of having to count out my spot.
I pulled on my wet suit, secured my timing chip on my ankle and headed for the beach. I ran into my mom on the way down, amazing considering the crowds of people that were starting to converge on the race site, and gave her a quick hug.
The water temperatures were forecasted to be 67 degrees at packet pick up. I swear that the fresh rain from the storms the night before dropped it another 10 degrees. It was almost painful as I stepped deeper and deeper into the lake.
I met up with my coach and another swim partner and we did a short warm up before we swam out to the actual rope that designated the route. It wasn't as far as I thought it would be. I got my visual for the return, and briefly examined the route up to transition. I was as ready as I was going to be.
I found the rest of the "Team Kristie" cheering gallery and chatted until it all the participants were called to the water's edge for the pre-race meeting and line up.
The elite women went into the water first, followed nine minutes later by the elite men and teams. Four minutes later it was my turn. My heart pounded for a few moments as the first few white capped racers from my division started to go in. I took a deep breath and let it go. There was no reason to be nervous. I trained for seven months for this. I was prepared.
I got to the timing mat, called out my race number for the proctor and waited for the signal to enter the water, and I was off.
Because of the new format there weren't massive numbers of people fighting for position. I was able to more or less swim the rope line, occasionally getting slightly off course as I back stroked. I came up to the big buoy at the end much more quickly than I thought I would.
All in all, the swim went well. I relied heavily on the backstroke, more out of comfort than anything else. It wasn't hard to flip back over to freestyle and spot from time to time. I made it to last buoy and found my feet.
Well, tried to find my feet.
My equilibrium was shot, and though I didn't fall, I felt almost drunk as I attempted to unzip my wetsuit while running through calf deep water. As soon as I thought I had my footing I hit dry sand and a hill.
This was the one time that I thought about quitting. This was the hardest part by far. I was a little winded and shaky from the swim. My legs burned from running through so many types of terrain in a short period.
But I passed my cheering family and friends (sorry if I short you all dirty looks. I swear I didn't mean to.) and made my way up the hill. As I hit the pavement of the transition area, I passed my swim coach who cheered for me loudly as I made my way through the transition chute.
As I sat in front of my bike to get shoes and socks on my husband appeared next the transition area to give me some encouragement. Between that and the few moments of reprieve that the sitting gave me, I felt re-energized.
I snapped the strap on my helmet, pulled my bike off the rack and ran/walked to the end of transition where I mounted my bike and took off.
It went fast. I took on the hills, conquering two of the three that had stopped me last time. I almost made it to the top of the last, but had to stop for a few seconds to cool the burning in my legs before continuing the route back into the park. The sight of the lake was welcome, telling me that I was in the final stretch of the bike leg, with only a mile and a half left of the 15.5 miles.
I was calm.
I was happy.
I was thrilled.
The toughest two pieces were coming to an end. There was no way I wouldn't finish.
I slowed as I approached transition and hopped off my bike. My right foot fought me as I tried to pull out of my toe straps, but I eventually won the struggle and went to rack my bike and drop my helmet.
As I made my way out of transition for the run I had a laugh out loud moment as a guy came running out of a row of bikes a head of me shirtless, in a kilt. As much I was enjoying myself, he was doing it even more.
Truth be told, I fast walked 75% of the run. My energy level was really starting to sag. I was okay with that. I was meeting my most important goals that I had set out.
People on the run leg cheered me on, calling out "Way to go 85," "Good job 85," "Keep it up 85" as they passed me.
I enjoyed being referred to by my number. It made me feel like I belonged.
I came in 657 of 666 participants, 239 out of 245 women, 26 out of 28 in my division.
Overall, my time was 2:24, 19 minutes over my goal time of 2:05 (again, arbitrarily arrived at by concluded that they sounded like nice, round numbers).
Goals that were met:
I completed my first triathlon.
I did not come in last (I was almost a half an hour in front of last place).
I beat my swim goal of 20 minutes by 3:07.
I beat my fund raising goal of $1000 buy bringing in $1285 to date for cancer research.
I have made new friends, strengthened old ones, and found new passions.
The person that I used to get an idea of time frames also competed in the tri again this year. She shaved over an hour off her time this year.
I think I'll do that next year.
The weather forecast was less than stellar with rain looming all weekend and thunderstorms on the horizon for Sunday morning.
Packet pick up began on Saturday afternoon and we headed up so I could get my assignment. I made my way through the hotel to the conference room, signed the waiver releasing my family from the right to sue everyone and their brother should I die during the event, and got in line to pick up my number. I reached into my purse for my wallet so I could have my photo ID ready.
Oops.
My wallet was sitting on the kitchen counter.
So we headed back home and I quickly made the trip back up by myself.
This was not a good start to the weekend.
I had my nerves last week, so race weekend left me mostly calm, just ready to get on with the event.
We had a nice dinner out to celebrate my mom's birthday at Vino's on 1st Avenue and then headed home for an early night in.
The thunderstorms moved in as promised, interrupting my restless sleep.
The alarm on my watch went off at 4:45 and I rolled over to turn off the bedside alarm.
Only I couldn't.
The power had been knocked out by the storms.
Oh, this was not good.
I had packed my transition bag with all of my gear the night before, so that was no big deal. The bike had a final tuning Saturday afternoon, so it was good to go.
Fortunately my mom had already been up and had water in the tea kettle for her morning tea and power had only been out for about 20 minutes before we had gotten up. I was able to make some lukewarm oatmeal for my pre-race breakfast.
My husband and I set out 15 minutes ahead of schedule to the race site, with my dad, mom and father-in-law about half an hour behind us.
The storms moved out, leaving a heavily overcast sky in its wake.
As I pushed my bike to the body marking area, I ran into my swim coach and quickly arranged to meet on the beach for a warm up once my transition area was arranged.
I went through the line to have my race number, 85, written on both arms, both legs and my division marker on my right calf. I picked up my timing chip and headed into transition to layout my gear.
I found a spot on the last rack for my division, a great spot in my opinion, as they were color coded. All I need to remember was that I was at the last orange rack on the right instead of having to count out my spot.
I pulled on my wet suit, secured my timing chip on my ankle and headed for the beach. I ran into my mom on the way down, amazing considering the crowds of people that were starting to converge on the race site, and gave her a quick hug.
The water temperatures were forecasted to be 67 degrees at packet pick up. I swear that the fresh rain from the storms the night before dropped it another 10 degrees. It was almost painful as I stepped deeper and deeper into the lake.
I met up with my coach and another swim partner and we did a short warm up before we swam out to the actual rope that designated the route. It wasn't as far as I thought it would be. I got my visual for the return, and briefly examined the route up to transition. I was as ready as I was going to be.
I found the rest of the "Team Kristie" cheering gallery and chatted until it all the participants were called to the water's edge for the pre-race meeting and line up.
The elite women went into the water first, followed nine minutes later by the elite men and teams. Four minutes later it was my turn. My heart pounded for a few moments as the first few white capped racers from my division started to go in. I took a deep breath and let it go. There was no reason to be nervous. I trained for seven months for this. I was prepared.
I got to the timing mat, called out my race number for the proctor and waited for the signal to enter the water, and I was off.
Because of the new format there weren't massive numbers of people fighting for position. I was able to more or less swim the rope line, occasionally getting slightly off course as I back stroked. I came up to the big buoy at the end much more quickly than I thought I would.
All in all, the swim went well. I relied heavily on the backstroke, more out of comfort than anything else. It wasn't hard to flip back over to freestyle and spot from time to time. I made it to last buoy and found my feet.
Well, tried to find my feet.
My equilibrium was shot, and though I didn't fall, I felt almost drunk as I attempted to unzip my wetsuit while running through calf deep water. As soon as I thought I had my footing I hit dry sand and a hill.
This was the one time that I thought about quitting. This was the hardest part by far. I was a little winded and shaky from the swim. My legs burned from running through so many types of terrain in a short period.
But I passed my cheering family and friends (sorry if I short you all dirty looks. I swear I didn't mean to.) and made my way up the hill. As I hit the pavement of the transition area, I passed my swim coach who cheered for me loudly as I made my way through the transition chute.
As I sat in front of my bike to get shoes and socks on my husband appeared next the transition area to give me some encouragement. Between that and the few moments of reprieve that the sitting gave me, I felt re-energized.
I snapped the strap on my helmet, pulled my bike off the rack and ran/walked to the end of transition where I mounted my bike and took off.
It went fast. I took on the hills, conquering two of the three that had stopped me last time. I almost made it to the top of the last, but had to stop for a few seconds to cool the burning in my legs before continuing the route back into the park. The sight of the lake was welcome, telling me that I was in the final stretch of the bike leg, with only a mile and a half left of the 15.5 miles.
I was calm.
I was happy.
I was thrilled.
The toughest two pieces were coming to an end. There was no way I wouldn't finish.
I slowed as I approached transition and hopped off my bike. My right foot fought me as I tried to pull out of my toe straps, but I eventually won the struggle and went to rack my bike and drop my helmet.
As I made my way out of transition for the run I had a laugh out loud moment as a guy came running out of a row of bikes a head of me shirtless, in a kilt. As much I was enjoying myself, he was doing it even more.
Truth be told, I fast walked 75% of the run. My energy level was really starting to sag. I was okay with that. I was meeting my most important goals that I had set out.
People on the run leg cheered me on, calling out "Way to go 85," "Good job 85," "Keep it up 85" as they passed me.
I enjoyed being referred to by my number. It made me feel like I belonged.
I came in 657 of 666 participants, 239 out of 245 women, 26 out of 28 in my division.
Overall, my time was 2:24, 19 minutes over my goal time of 2:05 (again, arbitrarily arrived at by concluded that they sounded like nice, round numbers).
Goals that were met:
I completed my first triathlon.
I did not come in last (I was almost a half an hour in front of last place).
I beat my swim goal of 20 minutes by 3:07.
I beat my fund raising goal of $1000 buy bringing in $1285 to date for cancer research.
I have made new friends, strengthened old ones, and found new passions.
The person that I used to get an idea of time frames also competed in the tri again this year. She shaved over an hour off her time this year.
I think I'll do that next year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)