It's finally here! And it's a rest day! Pretty anti-climactic, but having all this down-time today gave me some time to think about how all this came about. I won't go all the way back to how I went from a heavy-smoking, Rolling Rock-drinking club-goer to a (mostly) health-conscious, (now-lapsed) vegetarian runner. That's a story for another post.
My triathlon addiction began shortly after I ran the Boston Marathon in 2000. And when I say "ran", I mean I ran it as a bandit: no number. And even though I managed to fulfill my goal of not walking, I was barely keeping it together by the end. I was in so much pain, people were walking faster than I was staggering those last few miles. And the aftermath....oh, how I hurt! My body felt broken for months afterwards and I had pretty much abandoned all hopes of ever doing another marathon.
But then I went to the Salem Y one day in early 2002 and saw a brochure for a triathlon training program that ended with the first annual Witch City Triathlon. I loved to bike, but all I had was my mountain bike that I barely rode. I was new to Salem, and had no idea where to even ride. I couldn't even remember the last time I had swam. But something about it interested me, and I needed a new challenge. My body wasn't up to the pounding of running exclusively anymore. I wanted to cross-train, and this promised coaching for all 3 events, a training and nutrition plan, and also the potential of making some friends in my new city. Even though I was really nervous about it, I signed up, and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
I made such a great group of friends, a group of women who, almost 10 years later, I still run, bike and swim with every week. We trained for that sprint tri like we were training for the Olympics. That was the only triathlon that I ever placed. I came in 3rd in my age-group while riding my mountain bike! It was great fun, and I continued to do that sprint for several years after doing the first. The following summer I signed up for the Cranberry Country Olympic Distance tri in Lakeville, MA. I did ok -- I had bought a road bike by then, although I didn't use a wetsuit (big mistake #1!), and wore running shorts instead of tri-shorts for the bike (big mistake #2!). But I was happy with my results and because it was in my hometown, my whole family and lots of high-school friends were there. It was great to have a cheering squad throughout the route! That is such a well-run race. I've done it once since then, and would have done it a third time this summer had it not been cancelled due to a hurricane.
I hadn't thought much about doing any longer events until I was at the Y that fall of 2003 running on the treadmill. My friend Patty came in and asked if I'd be interested in doing a half-ironman with her. My response was, "No way! You're crazy!" I couldn't even comprehend racing for 70.3 miles. But then, since there is nothing else to do while running on a treadmill, I started thinking, and thinking, and before Patty even left the building I told her I was in. We signed up for the Timberman in NH for 2004. We trained as a group, even though it was just the two of us doing the race. We didn't follow any plan, just trained by the seat of our pants. There were a lot of really long rides followed by really long runs, which I now know was not the best way to train. I'd heard the ride was hilly so we did what we thought were hilly rides, which by no means prepared us for the mountainous climbs and descents of that race. Mistakes were made, muscle-cramps were had, but I finished in my goal time. However, I was so miserable on the run: GI distress, muscle-spasms and just plain exhaustion, that I knew I had messed up somewhere. I vowed to correct my nutrition mistakes for the next time. Next time? Really?? I was totally hooked.
But then I had two babies (not at once), and time constraints were such that long-course events were put on the back burner. I still managed some sprints and olympic distances, and even a marathon, but it wasn't until my youngest was almost three that I decided to take on another 70.3. I had had it in the back of my head for years that I wanted to do an ironman when I was forty. Now that I was 39, I needed to seriously think about whether this was at all possible. I wanted it so badly, and after training for and finishing the Patriot Half in Freetown, MA, I knew I was ready. My training friends and I had already planned to volunteer at Lake Placid in July with the hopes that my friend Deanne and I would sign up the next day, which is exactly what we did. And now, five months later, we're embarking on what some would say is a journey of insanity. I'm SO excited, and nervous, and hopeful, and scared. The next thirty weeks will be one wild ride!
