Try. (part II)

"10 seconds!"

5 seconds!

Bang!

Instantly I was in a frantic swarm of swimmers, each kicking and clawing their way forward in the crisp lake water.  It was a bit of a shock, to be honest, how out of control I felt.  It was like there wasn't a free inch of water to swim in.  I would try to streamline my stroke by stretching out and being as long as possible, then as I punched the lake with my hand and tried to kick I was welcomed not by water but by other racers.  I never thought I'd understand how those fish feel when they're all trapped in the same giant net, but here I was, flailing on top of other racers' bodies and being kicked in the face.  Eventually, after pushing through the white water and getting to the side of the pack, I found some open water.  At this point I felt like I was the last one in line.  I pulled and pulled to catch up.  Open water swimming has an extra challenge; chances are the water is murky and there aren't any lines on the bottom of the lake anyway to keep you straight, like in a pool.  This requires swimmers to sight or spot their location regularly to make sure you're not wasting precious energy swimming in the wrong direction! I had practiced sighting because I tend to veer a little to the right, which is the side I breathe on.  The course was organized in a triangle shape, with large inflatable buoys at each point.  Every time I put my head up to spot my line, I'd look to the buoy.  I'd swim for what felt like a lifetime, then quickly look up. Every time I did this, it felt like the buoy wasn't getting any closer.  Was I just swimming in place?  I was miserable.

The scary thing about the swim is that unlike running or biking, if you get tired you can't just go slower or walk or cruise.  If you stop swimming you drown! Luckily, God invented the backstroke.  I had used so much adrenaline and energy at the start, which I now compare with the beginning of the Hunger Games when they are at the Cornucopia, so I was exhausted much sooner than anticipated.  I flipped onto my back and started backstroking.  I took in deep breaths to ease my nerves, soaked in the blue sky, smiled, and told myself I could do this.  Also, I saw that I was not the last swimming in line, but was actually ahead of a large number of other racers.  When I had finally calmed down I flipped back to my stomach and continued to push.  That swim felt like it lasted 8 hours.

Eventually I was swimming past the dock that I had started next to.  I was done with what most triathletes agree is the worst part of the race.  There's a saying; "the best part of the swim is when you get out of the water."  Those words flooded my mind as I felt solid ground beneath me and started to run up the boat ramp to the transition area, stripping off my wetsuit, cap, and goggles as I ran.

I got to transition, noticed the bike next to mine was gone, and got another punch of adrenaline.  I quickly put on my shoes, helmet, and sunglasses; took a shot of Gu; grabbed my bike and started rolling.  I heard my dad yelling, "go Ryyyy!" in the same voice I heard growing up playing basketball, baseball, soccer, football, and lacrosse.  It was the same "go Ryyyy" I heard when I was racing mountain bikes.  I can't express how much strength those two words in that voice give me.  When I hear that, it's not just that I know he's proud of me, it's that I know he's having a blast with me.  I'll write a post about my dad later, but he and I keep each other young.

Once my wet bike shorts hit my saddle, I felt at home.  Going from swim to bike for me is like sleeping in your own bed after lying awake on a stone slab in prison for 20 years... and no, I'm not being dramatic!  I thought, "this is your time now" and took off.  After feeling like a dead fish, it did a lot for my confidence to start passing dozens of people on the bike.  I took a second to look to my right and see the beautiful Yuba Lake shimmering next to me.  I couldn't help but feel grateful that I was doing something so fun and rewarding and it wasn't even 9 am yet!  Those moments are what make this sport so great.  

The bike ride was straightforward, fast, and I made up for a lot of my time that I lost in the swim.  I rode back into transition, hearing my mom's voice this time (I can't stress the importance of a support system when racing triathlons.  It's a huge source of energy and gives you that extra push.  Isn't it amazing what our mind can do for our body when it's stimulated?), hopped off the bike, switched to my running shoes, took off the helmet, put on my race belt, took another shot of Gu, and off I went!

I have NEVER considered myself a runner.  I have always hated running.  My high school lacrosse had a motto that I cringed at every time he yelled it at us... "Your body is capable of so much more than you know!" What that meant was, "you're going to run until I feel like you should stop."  I agree with him 100% that our bodies can do much more than we think, but that doesn't mean we want to see what it's capable of.  The run really is the decision maker in triathlon.  You can get away with a slower swim, and even if you aren't the fastest cyclist, because the run separates the prepared from the fatigued.  It shows who used their energy most efficiently throughout the race, and punishes those who went too hard too soon.  That's one of the reasons tri's are so challenging; you're competing in one discipline (like cycling) but you're thinking about the next thing you're going to be doing (running).  I spent the majority of my bike ride planning my run.  

Halfway through it turned into a trail run, and flat pavement transformed into steep dirt.  As I was trying to run as fast but as efficiently as I could, I was surprised to see people pass by going the opposite direction and actually cheer each other on.  "Great work! Almost there! You got this! Just a few more meters! Lookin' good!" It was like we were all on the same team.  I had never experienced that before in a competitive setting.  I loved it.  We were all racing ourselves as much as we were each other.  Triathlon is a sport of personal victories.  We were all in the same boat (or wetsuit...I wish a boat was involved).  As  I was approaching the finish, maybe a half a mile out, I got back into competitive mode.  I saw about three runners ahead of me.  I was going to pass them all.  Something sports have taught me since I was a kid is the value and importance of "leaving it all out there." You want to finish without any thoughts of "should've" or "could've," you want to finish completely spent.  My legs were hating me, but I started to sprint.  I passed the first two people, and was catching up to the last.  I made the turn into the finish area, kind of got confused as to which way to go, and then booked it to the finish line.  I missed him by 7 seconds.  

As my little nephew used to say when he was 3, I did it! I can't begin to tell you how rewarding it felt to cross that finish line, get a medal placed around my neck, and start chugging chocolate milk.  I would later find out I took 6th place in my age group and 15th overall!  I was a little bummed I didn't get in the top 3 for my age group, but really excited that I did that well for my first race.  My mom said, "when you came out of the water didn't you notice how many bikes were still in the transition area?!"  I replied, "I just noticed the one next to mine was gone."  I thought that was an interesting lesson on perspective.  I was seeing a false reality because I was so focused on something close to me, a detail, instead of the big picture.

 The swim got the best of me, and I learned a lot from that experience. I had been going through some very difficult personal issues at the time of this race, and completing it was a wake-up call for me.  It put new life in me that had been gone for a while before.  This race will always mean a lot to me.

From that day on, I was addicted to triathlon. 

I knew right away that it was going to be a large part of the rest of my life.

My awesome family came out to support me.  Having a support system is really crucial to being successful in triathlon.  Max was holding my hand for emotional support. 

Wading in for the start

My set up in the transition area. Wetsuit, swim cap, goggles, bike shoes, helmet, sunglasses, socks, bike, gloves, running shoes, race belt, shots of Gu, and a bright colored towel (so I don't waste time trying to find my stuff).

Getting anxious right before the start.

It was a little bit chilly that morning.

After a very long time of wanting to but never making the commitment to train for and race in a triathlon, I finally accomplished my goal. 

The best part of finishing this race was knowing that I was going wakeboarding right after!  Trust me, wakeboarding in Yuba was much more fun than swimming in it.

Chocolate milk is actually a really good recovery drink.  This pleases me.

This is the one and only Austin Beck.  He and I have known each other since birth.  Growing up, people thought we were twins.  I consider him my cousin, and he's always been a great friend.  He is a big shot at an residential treatment center for young boys called Telos (www.telosrtc.com)
Their treatment plan is focused on training young boys for triathlon.  Their model is that triathlon gives the boys a goal and an opportunity to work hard physically, mentally, and emotionally to achieve that goal.  Great idea in my opinion!  Telos is in conjunction with a Tri shop called T3 Triathlon.  Austin hooked me up with them and they provided my awesome jersey! They even said that if I start winning races while wearing their jersey they'll sponsor me!
 www.t3triathlon.com