When I was a sophomore in college I decided to study abroad. While it wasn’t a snap decision, it wasn’t necessarily made because I loved (or even knew I loved) to travel. I needed to complete my foreign language requirement and from what I could tell a quarter in Italy was the quickest (and most glamorous) way to reach that. After much conversation and debating, I determined that if I struggled with Italian in Eugene, I would also struggle in Sienna — no matter how many cappuccinos I sipped. However, the wheels were already in motion and I rerouted to London, England. I’d always been a lover of the theatre, literature and art and England seemed the perfect place for me to enjoy all of those things while earning some easy credits.
Though my decision wasn’t made with much weight — the day I got on the plane and headed over the ocean to spend a few months living in another country intrinsically changed the way I view the world. The time I spent touring London’s museums and West End coupled with my trips throughout Europe introduced me to new people, new ideas and a new sense of self. It was a game changer for me.
This weekend, for the first time in a long time, I experienced that monumental shift in self-perception. This weekend I saw myself as the person I always wanted to be but never quite was.
Carissa learning Japanese drumming in Chinatown/International District
It all started with my love of the Amazing Race. I’ve always loved trivia, puzzles and challenges, so when the 2010 City Chase jumped up on my radar I was adamant about finding a partner. City Chase is an organized urban scavenger hunt that involves Seattle trivia, strange challenges and lots of trekking (read: running) around the city. It’s the type of organized event that I would normally want to do, but pass on by because my fear of the physical tasks would override any sense of adventure that intrigued me. It’s that fear that has kept me on the couch for 10 years, but something was very different this time around. I was different. I realized that I’ve been training six days a week and am planning to tackle an Olympic distance triathlon in two months — I could handle this! So my TNT teammate Carissa and I signed up and spent Saturday walking Seattle from end to end, breaking boards with our bare hands and singing Karaoke with drag queens on Capitol Hill. The day was amazing, intense and most of all FUN.
I broke that board -- with my bare hands! Hiiii-ya!
In addition to City Chase, Erik, my sister and I had registered for the Seafair Triathlon. Now, this was no urban adventure race, this was serious business. The Seafair Triathlon is a sprint distance, exactly half of what Erik and I will be completing in Washington DC. I knew it was an important milestone. It was taking all this training and putting it to work in a real-life situation. I spent my evenings watching videos about transitions, polling all the triathletes (and there are many!) in my life about eating, gear, need-to-know-information and by Friday afternoon, I felt ready for my weekend of endurance sports.
During City Chase, I would say we walked/climbed/ran at least 10 miles, if not more and to say I was sore on Saturday night would be an understatement. I immediately felt I’d shot myself in the foot for Sunday’s race, but I was approaching Seafair as a really long practice, the brick of all bricks — a trial run.
As I laid in bed that night I mentally ran through everything I knew to expect and what I thought I would be surprised by, I went through my transitions — swim to bike, bike to run (run to brunch).
Note left for Jill, who was supposed to come home after I'd fallen asleep
4:30 am came swiftly and by the time I’d put on my gear and loaded the car, I’d forgotten all about my nerves. When it came time to fuel with a cliff bar and banana, my stomach however reminded me that I was scared to death. I did my best to eat and off my sister and I went to Seward Park.
As I expected, the transition area was a zoo and there was a wide range of people there — everything from folks on borrowed bikes and in swim trunks, to elite athletes doing warm up laps in the lake.
Jill and I joked through our anxiety, set up our transition area and headed to the beach to wait for the race to begin. Waiting while wave after wave of athletes took off into Lake Washington felt like hours. The orange buoys we were supposed to keep on our left seemed miles away. It was freezing, but the energy and adrenaline was pumping. When it came time for my wave, I promised myself I would count to five after the horn, but five seconds felt like a lifetime and I just went for it. By the time I got into a rhythm I started to chant to myself: “This isn’t so bad, you can do this, this isn’t so bad, you can do this.”
Before I knew it I was climbing out of the lake and running toward my bike. Here’s where I wasn’t prepared. I had mentally prepared myself that if I could make it through the swim that the bike would feel easy, it’s where I felt strong and I knew there would be ample recovery time with two wheels whirring underneath me.
Recovery? Try additional torture. By the time I clipped in and made it through the first quarter mile my hamstrings and quads were already burning. My legs felt like jello and I hadn’t even gotten started. I had to keep reminding myself that I just needed to get seated in, that it would get better, I just had to remind my body which muscles this sport required.
Sure enough, it started to get easier, pedal after pedal I pushed through it. I pushed through it up the access road that was a steep 90 degree turn up to an 11 percent incline up to another 90 degree turn onto I-90. I pushed through it up the bridge deck to Mercer Island (a long steep incline). I pushed through it when the wind kicked up over Lake Washington and moved my bike side to side as I crossed the bridge on the way back.
Moving into transition two I had this feeling of dread mixed with elation. I was two thirds done with this beast, but the worst was yet to come. I’ve been struggling with running since day one. To top it off I’ve been re-injurying myself at every turn. Each time I feel better, I go out and hit it hard and inevitably hurt myself again, so this was going to be a mental test. Could I keep up my pace while continuing to walk (to avoid another setback before DC) when everyone around me was running?
About 3/4s through the run, we came across a brutal hill. The route takes you up to the upper loop in Seward Park to complete the 3.1 mile course and the best way I know how to describe it is brutal. You’re 500-600 yards from the finish and all of a sudden you’re re-routed up an incline that burned my hamstrings and gluts like you wouldn’t believe.It was about then that I wish I’d re-fueled with a Gu before I’d left T2. My tank was certainly running on empty.
As I neared the finish line, I picked up my pace and began to jog. It was important to me to cross running and with a smile on my face.
Believe or not, finishing was bittersweet. It was amazing to see my mom, her friend Katherine, Erik and Jill waiting for me and cheering me on, but I was upset that I’d had to walk. It was like everything I’d pushed so hard for in the first two thirds was out the window, because I was so slow in the run.
That pesky negative self-talk was even trying to ruin this moment.
But I had to let it go. I had to allow myself to feel proud that I’d accomplished what I set out to do. I’d finished my first triathlon.
Of course, the next thought through my (and as it turns out, Erik’s) mind was “Holy shit, that’s only half of what I have to do in DC?”
As we packed up our gear and hiked back to our cars (an excruciating uphill climb with bikes and gear in tow), that’s when it dawned on me. I had just swam 1/2 a mile, biked 12 miles and run/walked 3.1 miles. Four months ago I thought that was impossible and today, today it was entirely possible — more so than possible, it was accomplished. It was complete. It was mine to wear as a medal around my neck.
Over bloody mary’s that morning we all raised our glasses to our good work and I started to feel that final piece of my changed self shift in to place. I felt it the moment I asked “When’s the next one?”
The exhaustion I felt was so absolute, I thought for sure that I wouldn’t make it to tonight’s swim practice, but again, I surprised myself. The training was working and I woke up this morning feeling healthy, not sore. I made it to swim practice and tonight for the first time I could literally feel the progress. I felt stronger than I’ve ever felt in the pool. I swam 2200 yards (that’s 44 laps) strongly and without stopping for longer than the 15 second rests I was supposed to take.
For the first time since I quit swimming in high school due to injury, I felt like an athlete.
Days to go (until DC): 54
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