My First Race

I had my first race ever two weekends ago.  In short, it was pretty legit.

Now here’s the long version.

Pre-Race (1 week prior to night before event):

I have this horrible/terrific quality of pessimism that has proven pervasive throughout my shenanigans. While my anticipation of low performance may serve as a self-limiting, self-fulfilling prophecy, I like to think of it as an insurance policy. If you get what you expected, no surprise there. At least you were prepared. And if you plan for the worst, and make it out better than you expected—even if only marginally—it’s still more than you expected! It’s a win-win! At least…that’s my logic and I’m sticking to it!

That being said, I was very nervous in the week leading up to the race. As I had nothing to compare this experience to, I had nothing to base a goal on. That was making me pretty uncomfortable, as I am a goal-oriented, goal-motivated kind of gal. So, I decided to set my sights on something reasonable: don’t suck. Meaning, if I could just complete my leg, that would be good enough for me. Oh, and I wanted to completely crush it to not be the last person in. Pessimism aside, more than anything, I was very nervous to let my teammate, the IRONWOMAN (for real, she raced in the Ironman), down. Her second event was contingent on mine, and did not want to hold her up or jeopardize her legs of the race. Though we had talked about how this race was just for fun and a good way to break into the sport several times prior to race day, I was still very nervous and anxious to perform.

Of course, a perfect solution to nerves is to eat your feelings! The night before the big day, I decided that a perfect last supper preparatory meal would be the super-spicy steak enchiladas with chili rice from the Mexican restaurant down the street. So, I ate my face off and loved every second of it.

Until 5am.

When all hell broke loose.

My body’s natural response to stress is what I call the “void all non-essentials” response. Consequently, we all can infer how this dietary decision turned out. Do not ask me why I am so stupid. I paid for it in spades.

Race Day:

Thanks to nerves and chili spices, I got virtually no sleep going into the race—probably around 3 hours of restless zzz’s. With my intestinal predicament, exhaustion, and the deluge of rain I awoke to at the ungodly hour the alarm went off, I was convinced that the perfect storm for a racing disaster had just taken center stage.

Luckily, I rallied. And so did the weather. By the time my entourage (sister and le boyfriend) and I arrived at the racing site, my stomach had stopped screaming, and the rain had let up. So I started to think this was do-able.

Until I saw the competition. I’m not kidding you when I say that nearly everyone had a road racing bike, a tri-suit, and calves (and hair) the caliber of a Roman god. It was around this time that I lowered my goal from “don’t be the last one in” to “just try to act cool.”

And so we registered and got my bike into transition. With our powers combined, my teammate, Tami, and I decided to dub ourselves “Team Whale, Whale, Whale, What Do We Have Here?” You see, my friend is nearing her 6^th month of pregnancy—and given our sick senses of humor and food baby/real baby situations—we thought it was appropriate. And hysterical.

Team Whale, Whale, Whale, What Do We Have Here? (Pre-Race)

While we waited for the start, Tami and I learned some equally horrifying enlightening information. First, the running leg of the race was 1 mile uphill, 1 mile down. That was not on the course description.  Gulp. Second, and I quote: “For the bike course, everyone knows the route already, right? There will be minimal staff out to direct you.” Mind you, this is a 10-mile course in a town in which I had never before set foot. At this point, my goal changed again to let’s just try to find this parking lot again before the end of the day.

Before we knew it, the air horn gave a short toot, and off went Tami. Given the first part of the course was uphill, I thought I would have at least 15 minutes before I saw my teammate again. That would, after all, be a 7.5 minute mile. Wrong! That lady was back just over 14 minutes later! When she rounded the corner to come up the driveway into transition, I still had food in my mouth and was chatting it up with my family and her husband! A couple expletives and quick strides later, she met me in transition, and I was on my bike and off. She was the first female back, so I was the first female out. No pressure…

The ride was all kind of a blur. I guess I kind of black out when I need to focus. But here’s what I remember thinking:

Mile 0-1: Oh god, I’m the first female out. Don’t blow this lead! What’s this? Two seemingly endless hills right out of the gate? Thanks, a-holes!!! Oh, a downhill! I am pacified!

Miles 2-5: Feeling strong. Still have yet to be passed by another female. TOTALLY OWNING THIS SUCKER!!! 10 miles is nothing!!!

Mile 6, after being passed by two ladies on fancy road bikes, going at least 20mph: Meh, all is not lost…plus, look how fancy they are. They are in a league of their own, and hey, maybe I can pass them later.

Mile 7, passed by another female: Good Christ, this bike is getting heavy. But it’s okay, I have saved so much money by borrowing this bike. Look at how thrifty I am!

Mile 7.5, passed by one more female: WHY ARE YOU SO FAT, TIRES?!?!? GO ON A DIET, TIRES! NO WONDER YOU WERE FREE—YOU ARE LIKE OLD ASS ELEPHANTS STUCK IN TAR, YOU FATTIES!

Mile 8-9, at least 5 total climbs have occurred so far: I am getting kicked in the soul. I am getting kicked in the soul.

Mile 9-10, final climb leading to giant downhill to the finish. Cars are blocking the final turn into the finish line: You have GOT to be kidding me. I have NO SOUL left, people! Can’t I at least get the last ¼ mile for free??? Oh, no? Okay. Brakes it is.

39 minutes and 40 seconds after leaving transition, I crossed the finish line for my leg of the race—a little pissed about that last turn, and a lot tired. And guess what?! I was NOT the last bike in!!! In fact, I was the 5^th female in, and the first bike that was not a road racer/super expensive speed demon!

Once my bike got back into transition, Tami went off for her second—and our final—leg of the race: another 1 mile uphill, and 1 mile down. And would you believe, at almost six months preggers and after 40 minutes of downtime, this lady beat her first split? She’s seriously an alien sent here to make us mortals feel our place in the universe…

Overall, we took the 3^rd place finish for the women! Not too shabby!  And we were treated to some super sweet signs from our pep squads!

Le Boyfriend speaking to his Whale

How accurate!

Sister's encouraging words.

I like her super-accurate replication of a bike.

Post-Race Team shot!

Overall thoughts on the experience:

This race was a really great introduction to multi-sport racing. I am pretty satisfied with my performance and my overall time. That being said, I definitely wish I had trained outdoors more, rather than spending so much time inside on a spinning bike. I was really surprised by how much energy I chewed through due to the ebb and flow of the road and the subsequent need to stabilize the bike.  It also became apparent that I need to learn to stand up to climb hills. This is slightly embarrassing, but I actually taught myself how to ride a bike when I was 11 years old, so I stuck to Biking 101 (aka: how to not fall over). Standing climbs must have been a “masters” lesson that I missed out on.  I spent a lot of time this race losing cadence and power because I could not keep my pace during a climb. I downshifted a lot in order to make it up a hill in a seated position. I think if I could learn to stand and ride, my efficiency might improve, as would my time.

Also, as one of those constantly searching, insatiable souls, I would be curious to see how my performance and time would change if I had the same equipment as the other racers. Where’s the equality, people?!?! Kidding. Though I was really envious of those nicer bikes, with thin tires, aero-bars, and trigger shifting! BUT, I think coming in in under 40 minutes on a 10-mile course using a hybrid bike is pretty okay for my first time.

Though I was nervous and unsure of what to expect, I very much enjoyed the friendliness of all the participating athletes and all of the support I received from my friends and family along the way. I had a lot of people cheering for me—both on the road and on the sidelines—and it made the entire experience seem less scary and more possible! So thank you, my peoples! This was a great way to cut my teeth, and I am obviously already thinking of ways to improve for next time!

Now, who wants to donate an elite road bike to this budding Olympian???

Until next time, pedal on!

Tired Whale with my motivational shirt!