Feeling anxious on race morning is to be expected but it puts another layer of pressure on when you arrive at the race and the Olympic distance Premier athletes are already in the water waiting for the starting gun to sound. My race doesn’t start for another hour and transition doesn’t close for another 40 minutes but it still FEELS like I am running way late and I can sense my heart-rate climbing.
My little support crew (Terry, my two daughters and my son) follow me closely as I walk across the First Street Bridge that runs over Lady Bird Lake. There is a heightened sense of urgency on my part to quickly make it into transition to set up my gear for the bike and the run portion of the sprint triathlon I am about to race. I know they can feel my uneasiness and do their best to help me with my bags and conversation is light but deliberate when necessary. We are walking a little further than I had wanted to this morning, but we were stuck on the other side of the lake due to road closures. I was silently freaking out as I tried to navigate my 4Runner down the streets of downtown, but having no luck finding an open roadway that leads to the race start. I’m glad Terry spoke up quickly and just told me to park in the closest parking garage we found, yet now we had a slightly longer walk but at least we were NOW parked and walking to the other athletes.
Transition was brisk as I laid out my bike gear and run gear under my trusty steed (Felt B16 TT) that had been racked last night among the roughly 2000 other bikes in the fenced in area. I take a once over on my gear and go through each discipline in my head to make sure I have EVERYTHING I need for a smooth and quick change of accessories. I tuck a GU gel nutrition up my shorts leg for later, grab my wet-suit, goggles, swim cap and anti-chaffing stick and head out of transition enjoying the pre-race banana I had brought with me. While I am eating & walking I take a swift review of the swim out, bike in/out and run out, also making note to where my bike is racked among a sea of the modern-day velocipedes made up mostly of carbon fiber and some aluminum.
I find Terry outside the fence where we parted ways earlier and I can sense that something is troubling her. She is having a hard time locating our kids in this massive crowd of no less than 5000 people. It is also very difficult due to the fenced in area of transition smack dab in the middle of the park separating each side. Terry hands me the phone and my oldest daughter is on the line. I tell her to meet us at the opposite end from where we came in and to just follow the lake down the path and to the other side of the race start. It sounds more complicated that it really is, but I give directions that are very definitive and easy to follow. They must make it past the closed pathway for athletes leading from the water’s edge into transition, and we soon reunite with our youngsters, and all is good (deep breath!).
I find us a spot near the swim start and we are surrounded by all the other athletes waiting to enter the water. The Olympic distance competitors are also still marching into the water one by one as the Sprint and Super Sprinters are preparing to fall in line too. I sit down and wrestle with my wet-suit to get it on. It’s a wonderful morning with the air temperature in the low 70’s but I am already sweating profusely due to all of my hurrying & mental stress that I have already been going through. I am able to slip into my baby seal ensemble over my sweaty skin without much trouble but while Terry is applying the anti-chaffing balm to my neck and shoulders, the balm falls off out of its casing and onto the crushed gravel trail. The balm resembles a stick deodorant and much like a deodorant, once it’s almost finished it usually pops out of its carrier and onto the bathroom floor (except this time its on dirt). Terry picks it up and I brush it off and tell her its OK and she starts to reapply the balm.
My wet suit is now zipped up and I am ready for battle, let’s get this race started! It’s now 7:55 am and my Sprint Triathlon is about to start. I realize that I left my GU in my shorts and I dismiss it thinking I will be just fine to start without eating it. Unfortunately, I was vocal about my mishap and Terry tells me I have plenty of time to take down my wet suit and retrieve the gel. I try to dismiss it, but she is not relenting and tells me that I packed it for a reason and I really need it! I shimmy down my wet-suit to mid-thigh and reaching in strenuous fashion with my fingertips down my leg to where I am finally able to retrieve it. Terry now turns me back around and starts zipping me back up after I pulled the suit back into position.
“The zipper is out” – Terry states flatly and she tries for what seemed like an eternity to reengage the zipper back into the tracks to join both sides. She asks if Mariana wants to try but the zipper seams defiantly stuck. I’m really starting to get nervous now because the sprint athletes are getting into the water 2 by 2. My wave is towards the middle, but I am still pressed for time. I tell my family that I am just going to walk over to the grass and take it off to fix the zipper. This is NOT what I wanted to be doing just moments before my race.
Terry and the kids left me alone to deal with this conundrum (which I am thankful of) and I am able to fully concentrate on the task at hand. I am able to strip it off, get the zipper back on track and somehow manage to get back into it in record time, sweaty skin and all. NOW I’M READY!!!!
I walk back over to my little support crew, give kisses and bid farewell (for now).
Walking over to my age group I finally start to calm my nerves. I chat up a conversation with another athlete in my age group and say how much I want to get this race started so I can relax!
Marching to the swim start we start to move from 5 abreast down to a single file line that heads down a short dock and to the swim start. A race official is at the edge of the dock and lining us up by twos to send us in every 5 seconds. I waddle to the front and off I go.
THE SWIM-
I quickly find a rhythm but after about 200 meters I fall apart. I am being passed by everyone that is starting behind me and I’m getting hit often. There is a pain in my chest and I cannot breathe properly. It is really slowing me down. My right foot cramps and my big toe is stuck in place, and I feel as if I want to pull myself from the race. I am unable to use my feet for kicking now and I just let my legs float behind me as I use my arms to pull. If there was a kayak nearby at that moment, I would have swum right over and assessed how I was feeling and if I should continue on. There is no help in sight, so I continue my laborious crawl through the water and fight for a breath every other stroke.
The painstaking process of moving to the first buoy is really taking a toll on my mental stability for this race. I wonder what the heck I am doing and why the heck do I do this?…..then……finally….as I was sitting still, trying to catch my breath and treading water………I BELCH! Not once, not twice but three very loud and earth-shattering belches. All with a strange gurgle to match its sheer volume of sound and air that is expelled from my stomach. These three belches are the kind that would make any grade school boy proud and would get him high marks from all his friends. OMG !!!! That felt AMAZING!!! I am COMPLETELY relieved, and my chest pain and shortness of breath have dissipated, and I am back to racing. My stroke now is smooth and strong, and my breathing is on point. I start passing other athletes, but I am now behind a very big guy that is breast stroking and almost kicking me in the head with his whip kicks. I pull around his right side and head for the final turn buoy. The final 100 meters – This is where the swim is the fiercest. All the athletes jockeying for the direct line to the narrow swim exit at the dock. A melee of arms, legs and bodies come crashing on top of me, but I keep my position, stay the course and fight my way out of the crowd and onto the platform. Dry land once again, Hallelujah! A volunteer helps me out of the water and I start my long run through the fenced in shoot and into transition to find my bike. Terry and the kids are all at the swim exit and they yell and scream their cheers for me as I continue on with the race.
THE BIKE-
Transition was quick and smooth, and I am running out the grassy fenced in area with my bike to the paved road and “mount line”. I clip in under the large inflatable black vinyl gateway and start out onto the bike course. Unfortunately, I lose balance as my right shoe did not clip in, and my front tire veers to the right sharply. Another athlete that is also leaving transition, is riding way too close to me when this occurs, and he clips my front tire. I yell out some sort of vulgar explicit and go crashing down onto the cement and smack down on my right elbow and knee. The crash was painful but not debilitating. I pick up my bike, clip in and grind up the hill to First Street and onto the bike course.
The bike leg is spectacular and the downtown streets are completely closed to any type of vehicular traffic. We race up and down North Congress and U-turn in front of the Capital Building. Our route also takes us on West Cesar Chavez, onto Stephen F Austin and Lake Austin Drive. I move expeditiously around all the other competitors that are in front of me. I am strong, and I am absolutely crushing it. I am passed by only a couple of guys out on the course, but I let them go and focus on MY race. Even though my right elbow (that is missing about 2 sq inches of skin) is stinging me as it presses on the arm rest, I really enjoy my ride.
On the second loop there is a very fit female triathlete that is within striking distance and I am chasing her down to pass, but I am unable to catch her. She is strong and unyielding, and this rabbit is starting to tick me off. I eventually catch up to her and have to drop a gear to pass. This throws my wattage up close to 400. My thighs flare up with lactic acid and I feel like I’m burning some unnecessary matches that will come back to haunt me on the run. I press on with the pass and never look back (she will probably smoke me on the run later)!
On the First Street Bridge again I make my way to the turn-around, I continue on and hit the exit ramp that leads back to transition and the “bike in” inflatable black vinyl gateway. I promptly un-clip and dismount off my bike. I am running again through the grass to my bikes resting spot on the racks and immediately throw off my bike gear and get into my run gear. Precious time is ticking away, and I have got to make up for my swim time. The bike was solid but now I had to put together a good run…..I know I have it in me!
THE RUN-
My mouth and tongue are still covered in salt from the BASE SALT that I had just ingested before leaving my bike. I see my little family and they are feverishly cheering me on. I hand out high fives to them all and continue on the run course. My race bib number is folding backwards, and I pull it back down so my number can be seen (I want my race photos from the race photographers that are out there). In doing so I rip one of the strings out of the bib. I have to stop and reattach the number sideways to my race belt so that it is not flapping around by only one string. I forge ahead and make it to the 1st aid station. This whole time I’ve had a salty mouth and the much-needed water is cool and refreshing. I thank the volunteers and head back out. I never once check my pace, but I can feel that I’m throwing down a sub 9-minute mile which I am happy with. My little support crew is along the course just past the 1st mile marker. I run over to them and once again administer high fives to each of them and continue my run. The day is starting to heat up and I am really thirsty again. About 10 meters ahead there is a male athlete on the trail that I am keeping pace with, and slowly – ever so slowly – catching up to him. I make it to the second aid station and grab some more water, thank the volunteers, make my pass on the guy and soldier on. About halfway through the 3rd mile I start losing energy and feel like walking. Should I have taken some nutrition at the last aid station instead of only water?!?! I go over in my head the workouts that I have put my body through getting ready for the race and I force myself not to walk. I have it in me to lay it all down on the course today and I pick up the pace a little. At the First Street Bridge again and making the final climb, I have to slow down because I feel my heart-rate is climbing and I am NOT going to stop….NOT NOW! I finally reach the turn around and now it’s all downhill. There is another age group male in my sights and I power forward to catch my next prey. The last quarter mile of the race is an all-out foot race. I am catching up to other athletes and passing them by. I take the final right turn that leads to the finish line and I am in a full-blown sprint passing two more guys in the finisher’s shoot. I did not stop to bask in the glory of my first finish line of the year. I am running at too great of a sprint to even look around. I cross the finish line with arms wide open and palms facing upward as if to be calling for the Lord’s Blessing…..I am Completely Spent! What an Incredible Day! I finish 10th in my age group and I am feeling very happy with my race. – endorphindumpjunkie
endorphindumpjunkie 