Did it!

Twenty-two weeks of training, six days a week. We are standing around like a bunch of penguins waiting for the start of the Pacific Crest Olympic Triathlon in Sunriver, Oregon.  Our big day is finally here.

Last April I agreed to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. They agreed to train me for a triathlon. They brought in Wade Praeger, a triathlete since 1981 and one of the owners of Everyday Athlete. An experienced Team in Training coach, Wade, with amazing patience, pushed my group beyond our expectations. All the while he kept emphasizing "Have fun." And miraculously, for me he made bicycling hills fun, lake swimming not traumatic, and running . . . well, I'm still working on running.

Some of my happy teammates

Still, three days before the event, the nerves kicked in. I was feeling so ill and tired that I left work, went home and slept. I really thought I was coming down with something. Friday, I felt a little better on the drive to Sunriver. But where would I find the energy to get through this race?

Saturday morning we drove my bike up to Wickiup Reservoir to set up for next day's swim-to-bike transition. The reservoir was a 50 minute drive outside of town, delivering all the requisite views of volcanic mountains -- Bachelor, Three Sisters, and so on. In the roped-off transition area I find my designated row, set up my bike food bag, hang my bike on the rail, cover the seat and handlebars with plastic bags to keep the morning dew off, and leave. A sweet volunteer decorates my legs with my race number and age with big beautiful block letters. Bob and I then head back the town via the bicycle route to check it out. It's roly-poly at the beginning, climbs to 15 miles, then is downhill and flat the rest of the way. 

We make it back to ‘base camp’ in time to watch our coach and a couple of teammates complete Saturday's Long Course Triathlon. Those animals.

Sunday morning I out of the room at 6:15 am to set up the bike-to-run transition, meet with the team, and catch the bus. We are swapping great stories and ride seems short.

Preparing to start

Off the bus and on with the wetsuits. Once again, I start by putting my wetsuit on backwards. Luckily no photos were taken to document this. 


The coach checked bikes, so cleaned and oiled my bike chain. Apparently, I missed that lesson in training. 

We had a nice crowd up there. There were 504 swimmers racing as singles, plus the duathlon and relay people. I was in the sixth wave of swimmers, for the 45-year-olds and older, the last group to leave. 


I have my first mini melt-down. Just the verge of tears and a little hopping around, as the moment sinks in.

First the red cap swimmers start. Then the silver. Followed by yellow, green, purple. Then the blue. That’s my group. I stay off to the side to avoid the crowd. We start swimming in the 61 degree water, crisp but not numbing. To my left are thrashing arms. To my right are calm stretched-out swimmers. Guess I’ll breath to the right more, just to keep my head on straight. 

It’s crowded around the first buoy, but all is ok. I swing way left on the second leg. By the second buoy I adjust my sighting and aim to the right. At the third buoy a teammate, Polly, spots me and yells a greeting. Great moral support. Then it’s around the fourth buoy and on to the home stretch. 


What’s with this person in front of me? I try to go straight and I keep bouncing off of him. So I swing wide to one side. When I peek back, I see that he zig zags a lot. Whooh, the mile swim gets a lot longer that way.

Then I’m climbing out the water. There’s the coach taking pictures. He says "Run!" I say, "I’m trying to get the zipper undone on my wet suit!" I struggle along and my transition is slow, but there are a couple of teammates in the area with me, peeling off wetsuits and stuffing all into a bag for the event people to haul away to a local pickup spot in Sunriver. 

For a bit, the biking is tough. Then I get in to a rhythm and relax. I get a little teary again. Bob shows up on his bike and pedals behind me off and on. Again, nice moral support. There’s a large group of Team in Training people at one spot cheering us up the hill. Whoops, I'm a little emotional again.

There’s one steep spot in the roly-poly part, then there’s that last big hill, about 2 miles long. I just put it in good gear and pedal steadily up. I pass five people and am feeling quite good about myself. That training on Juanita Hill really did paid off. Oh, oh. I'm sniffling again.

Then there is that false peak at the top. You start heading down the hill, thinking you've made it over the top, but wait, there's more. So up the hill you go again. At least I had seen this yesterday, so was mentally prepared.

Where is my bike?

After 28 biking miles I am back in town and running my bike through the transition area. I almost flipped over the top of my bike when I turn at a sharp corner and the bike didn’t. Luckily, it’s a very nice light bike and I grabbed it and pulled it around to my side.

And there’s the coach again, taking pictures while we exit the transition area. 


The run was hard -- very, very hard. All my plans of running 10 minutes, walk 1 minutes or run 5 minutes, walk 30 seconds went flying out the door. So I ran until I couldn’t stand it then walked. I threw ice cubes down my top, stuffed them in my hat. I guzzled the water at the water stations. Training in the rain didn't prepare us for Sunriver weather.

And there was my coach again, about a mile from the finish with his camera. How did he do that?

#524. That's me!

I’m walking along, musing that the only people I pass are the ones in the porta-potties, when I hear a conversation ahead of me, “You’ve done 21 triathlons . . . . “ Twenty-one triathlons? So I catch up to the guy in front and start the questions. He is Lew Hollander, 82 years old, Ironman competitor, and record holder in his age group. We chat for a while, then he taps me on the elbow and says, “Let’s go.” So we run. I’m inspired and keep on going. 

And there's the finish line. Done. Three hours and 45 minutes. Third in my age group! And it was fun!