IRONMAN TEXAS - Race Recap

This is long.

You've been warned.

On Thursday we headed down South to The Woodlands, about a three hour drive from Dallas.  I picked up my packet and somehow managed to run into EVERYONE I knew that was racing.  It was great to see the friendly faces but boy howdy, it was HAWT standing out on that pavement in the sun. We've had a very mild spring and summer decided to show up just days before Ironman.  Rude.

Getting my stuff. Thank you to all the volunteers who worked out in the hot sun - y'all are fantastic!

Not a fan of expos, I did no shopping, instead opting to high tail it out of there and get inside to rest.  I spotted a Chocolate Milk booth and quickly became a sad panda when I realized they were not giving out chocolate milk.  (everyone knows that chocolate milk is my jam) But the much more observant Cyclist noticed that they were accepting applications for Team Refuel. So I made a little video.  We'll see where that goes.

Yes, that's chocolate milk on his head, y'all!

Friday I slept in, checked my bike as soon as it opened, then got in a quick run and swim.  The rest of the day was spent in snowflake pants watching Psych and Elf.  You know that's right.  While I was being a slug-a-bed, The Cyclist  (for whom I have to thank for most of these lovely photos) was out riding all over. He's still got a Very Big Race for which to train.

Race morning I was up at stupid thirty and we headed to transition to set my bike up and then walked the mile to the swim start.  Side: I am IN LOVE with the Smashfest Queen kits.  (although, don't get me wrong, I'm still Betty Designs loyal - but, but, but pink and orange!) And I don't know why my gut is hanging out like that.  It was early and I was too preoccupied to suck in?  Sheesh, TPG, get your act together.

Thx for the pix, TR13CE! 

It has been very cool here, unusually cool. But the days leading up to the race it heated up and FAST.  So did the lake water.  At 5 am they made the call - wetsuit optional. That meant that if I wore my wetsuit, I'd have to take an overall 10 minute penalty.  I chose the penalty.  I've done all my OWS training in a wetsuit. Race day was NOT the day to take away my thunder shirt.  

I FINALLY got a pink race cap!  Well, so did all of the women.  But pink!

 After OKC last year, where I wore a sparkly pink run skirt, he promised to one day spectate for me wearing sparkles.  

This picture, a favorite,  from sweet Mama C

And spectate in sparkles he did.  I had no problem spotting him from the water in all his pink finery!  I pink sparkle heart him!  How cute is his shirt?  How cute is HE?  Best. Spectator. Ever.  Best everything.

We match!

Now, we all know that the swim is my monkey.  I am not a fast swimmer, but I'm a very capable swimmer.  I just don't like all the flailing arms, legs and the crashing waves.  Wearing my wetsuit meant that I started 10 minutes after the washing machine.  I found a hole amongst the other more timid swimmers and floated.  And prayed.  You see, heavy on my heart are my friends the Morenos.  They have a critically ill newborn son, Beckham.  That is real fear - a very sick baby.  I asked God to take away my fear and allow me to swim with confidence, focusing not on me, but instead on baby Beckham.  I prayed for that sweet little baby the entire 1 hour and 44 minutes. (yes, I'm slow)  And you know what? Not a single moment of panic.  Yes, I, no exaggeration, prolly swam a good 5000 yards - I was all OVER the place. But my heart rate stayed down and I just repeated his name with each stroke.  "Beckham.  Beckham."  And I prayed that one day he will be strong enough to learn to swim, or run or to ride a bicycle.  Every child deserves that dream. 

The entire swim was congested - swimming in a canal will do that.  I got punched and kicked.  I punched and kicked.  I took an elbow to the inside of my bicep - that hurt like snot.  One guy punched my goggles into my eye socket - ouch.  (that still hurts now)  But I made it.  Before I knew it, I was climbing woggly out of the water.  Climbing out to my wonderful friends who volunteered as strippers.  I shook my shoulders and screamed, "STRIP ME, BABY!" They all screamed when they recognized me and Drum picked me up and whirled me around before Sare Bear stripped me.  Lot of hugs later, I was headed down the chute.

Swim start pic from The Cyclist 

I'm all kinds of blurry because I snuck up on him.  But check out the guy over my right shoulder! 

 I was so thankful for a good swim.  Yeah, I took forever, much longer than I ever do in the pool, but I had 36 minutes to spare before the cut off.  Transition was full of women who are servant volunteers. I saw volunteers helping athletes undress and dress themselves.  I managed on my own - no need for nakey.  I just needed to put on my shoes, helmet and get my nutrition in order.  I was SO excited to be on my bike. When I was in the chute I screamed out, "I GET TO RIDE MY BICYCLE NOW!" 

Happy to be on my bike.  Pic by The Cyclist 

 The bike went well for a long time.  The Cyclist caught me at Mile 77.  Still smiling - I was so excited to see his pink get up on the course!  And that Pearl Izumi shrug, once again, saved my tail.  It was HOT and sunny on the course.  No shade, no relief from the blazing Texas sun.  However, those little half moons where my shrug doesn't meet my kit...I've got a nasty burn there!  

 And then.  And then things began to fall apart.  I was taking two bottles of water and drinking two bottles of water between each aid station.  I arrived at the aid station at Mile 80, threw my empty bottles and held out my hand only to be told, "We are out of water."  The look on the volunteer's face matched mine.  Disbelief.  How could Ironman run out of water???  They freaking ran out of water. Water.  Water on a day that it was nearly 100 degrees and we were all riding 112 miles.  I came prepared to race in the heat but I also came with the expectation that they would have adequate fluids for me once I exhausted what I brought.  Nope.  They did hand me some Perform - something I don't drink. But it was better than nothing, right?  Nope.  The syrupy, sugary sweetness made me sick.  I don't train with that stuff.  I drink water, use salt tabs and eat real food, not gels.  I was in shock and didn't know what to do without water.

This slowed me down significantly.  I was quickly becoming dehydrated, even sipping on the Perform. The next aid station  was over an hour away.  Long story short, I started to get heat sickness.  I barfed all over myself a few times on the bike.  (mad bike skillz, the girl who can barf and ride)  I started getting very dizzy and a little confused.  Eventually, I came across an aid station that had water.  I took two and downed them, but never really recovered.  

The Cyclist caught me at mile 110 but my Garmin had died and I had no idea what mile I was at or how much time I had before the 5:30 bike cutoff.  I knew I was feeling worse and worse and my window was getting smaller and smaller.  Here I am, miserable, barely acknowledging him.  Just focused on trying to stay upright and get to transition before it closed.  

I made it, barely.  My bike, at 8:19, was an hour over what I anticipated on a "slow" day.  The volunteers were AMAZING.  I cannot say this enough. The IMTX volunteers rocked!  I was so disoriented.  They thought I had to be OUT of transition by 5:30 so I only had about 10 minutes.  She sat me down on the grass, out in the open and put my socks and shoes on me.  Put my hat on my head. Filled my bottle with cold water and another poured water down my back.  Turns out, I actually had about 25 minutes - I had until 5:45 to be out of transition. But they were awesome.  I stood on the run course, unsure of which way to go.  My brain was NOT working.  I downed two salt tabs and more water. Barf.  Downed a Tums. Barf.  Water. Barf.  I kept stopping to barf anytime I put anything in my mouth.  I was barely walking.  I just couldn't overcome the lack of water for all those miles.  A medic saw me squatting, barfing and asked if I was okay.  I assured him that I was.  Then I got up and started swaying.  He suggested I let him take my vitals.  He can check on me - just can't give aid.  Hearing my blood pressures and pulse, I knew,  continuing was a bad idea.  I sat there for a bit, drinking more water, barfing more and then with tears streaming down my face, choked out, "I'm done."  

Those were the hardest two words I've had to say in a long time.

The rest is kind of a blur. I spent time in the very busy medical tent (over a 15% DNF rate this year) getting a few bags of fluid and some Zofran for the nausea.  The medical volunteers were EXCELLENT, even letting me use a phone to call The Cyclist.  I laid on that gurney, crying, shaking uncontrollably, unable to regulate my body temperature and feeling sad and confused.  What had happened?  Where did my day go?  Was this really happening?  

It was.  After a while, my vitals were back to normal, the shaking stopped and I started to become lucid once more.  They eventually let me go and I left the medical tent to find this guy worried sick.  

He gets my obsession with the Honest Toddler. 

Once he was sure I wasn't dead, we sat down and I tried to process what had just happened.  It didn't seem real.  Six months of training.  I arrived prepared.  I was trained and ready. And derailed.  Tonight wasn't going to be my night.  My race was over.  When I felt confident that my legs could once again hold me, we headed over to find our friends.  Hugs were doled out, more tears were shed, not all of them mine.  I could tell they were hurting right along with me.  I have the best friends.  These people genuinely love me - fiercely.  I sat on the grass and numbly watched the race go by. Watched other determined athletes run towards their dream.  And I watched mine disappear. 

Best. Crew. Ever. 

Back Row - The Cyclist, duh

Middle  l-r - Sare Bear, Marci, Gretchen, Drum, Fi, Julie, Violator, MK, Melissa

Front Row l-r - EK, Byron

It wasn't my day.  Would things have been different if I hadn't run out of water?  I believe so with all my heart.  I'm not making excuses.  But I was ready to race.  And I know HOW to run a marathon.  But I made the decision that was best for my body on that day, difficult as it was.  

I'm disappointed but not devastated.  I don't know what is next.  Right now, I'm just going to stay low for a bit and get my head on straight again.  I so appreciate all the kind messages, tweets, texts and phone calls.  Y'all are incredible - thank you for your concern.  I'm okay.  I'll be okay.  I'll live to fight another day.  Because after all, I am fierce.  

It's Time

I've got about four posts sitting in my draft folder.  

No matter how hard I try, I just can't put into words how I feel about what is about to happen.  Everything I write seems inadequate.

In a few hours, I'll be in The Woodlands, TX, pick up my packet and on Saturday, I am going to attempt the Ironman Triathlon.  


Anything can happen on race day.  The hay is in the barn; I'm feeling calm and ready.  But I respect the distance and I'll believe it when I cross that finish line and hear Mike say those words that i've longed for years to hear, "TPG, YOU are an Ironman."


The truth is, there was a time in my life where I didn't have much hope.  My world seemed to fall apart more and more with each passing day.  But I set goals.  Big goals.  And I kept putting one foot in front of the other.  I surrounded myself with people who loved me very much.  And they ran with me.  Biked with me. Swam with me.  Mourned with me but most importantly, rejoiced with me.  They showed me how to smile again. 

I've got a lot to be thankful for in my life.  I am overwhelmed with blessings.  And no matter what happens during those 17 hours I have to finish the race, I know, with all my heart, that so many of you will be swimming with me, riding with me, running with me.  


And rejoicing.  All we ever have to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other.  And we'll get there.  Wherever there is.  


Let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us.  Hebrews 12:1

Blueberry Donuts are Bad JuJu - A Cautionary Tale

Donuts.

I love donuts.  Okay, that's not entirely true.  I really don't like donuts all that much. But every now and then, before a long ride, I'll crave a blueberry donut.  And since there is a shop right by my house...well, I figure 4+ hours of riding necessitates a high calorie breakfast.  So I loaded up my bike with NEW PINK TIRES and headed out to the country to get my ride on.

It takes a special guy to pick out the perfect pink tires as a Valentine surprise!

Stopping first for two blueberry cake donuts.  One for me and one for The Cyclist.  His house is on the way and he was racing later in the day so I figured he'd appreciate a blueberry treat too.  I was right.  (until I wasn't) 

Mmm...donut.

It was a beeyootiful day for riding!  May 4th and 45 degrees.  Whaaaaa?  Since I'm trying to heat train and the weather (thankfully) isn't cooperating, I bundled up in several layers and set out on my ride.  Such a gorgeous morning.  Until it wasn't.

At mile 5 of 30, I was out on a country road and spotted a dog barking and running excitedly towards the fence of his yard.  I didn't give it much thought - I'm sure he was just trying to say "hai" and plus, there was a fence.  Until there wasn't.  Dog is apparently a magical shape shifter (or maybe there is a hole in the fence, whatever) and suddenly appears in the road.  Where he proceeds to chase me, staying on my front wheel barking like there is no tomorrow.  My mind is racing, trying to recall my Dog Defense Strategies.  He's right on my front wheel and keeps running out in front of me to switch sides.  Apparently, he wants to terrify me from all angles.  I see a car coming and I pray that it is the dog's dad, coming to rescue me.  (there aren't many houses out there, it is possible)  Nope.  I was ready to squirt him with my bottle of alligatorade but honestly, I didn't want to take my hands off my bars.  He was so close and moving so unpredictably, my bike handling skills were already being tested.  

I  yelled at him, as firmly as my shaky pink voice would allow, "NO!  GO HOME!"  He was unfazed. There was hatred in his shifty little eyes.  I could tell I wasn't the first cyclist he had ever chased.  And he kept going!  Was this darn dog EVER going to get tired?  Thinking maybe he spoke Texan, I switched my approach to, "BAD DOG!  GIT! GIT!"  It seemed like forever but it was less than a mile that he stayed with me.  (I've been chased before but never that closely and never for that long)  

Whew.  It wasn't until after he was gone that I started to get upset.  Which is stupid, nothing happened, I left that Chow behind me to chase someone or something else.  (side, Chows look like giant, fluffy Pomeranians - until they are chasing you then they look like a fur coat wearing blood crazed wolverine with the speed of a puma)  I stopped at the lake to regain my composure and lower my pulse, refusing to cry over a DOG.  A dog that actually didn't do anything but scare the crap out of me.

I decided to finish this loop (I was *only* 6 miles in at this point) and head home.  I didn't want to take my chances of meeting him again for Loop 2. He was embarrassed now and probably more committed to taking me down and chomping my leg off.  I did make a point to enjoy the rest of my ride - the new green growth in the fields, the cool, crisp air, the sound of birds. I heard a rooster greeting the morning. But I also heard lots of dogs.  Dog noises that I would usually ignore.  Every bark, every rustle in the brush, every jingle of tags and I assumed it was Death Dog Derby Part 2.  

So I  tucked my pink tail, packed up my things and headed home to finish my ride on the trainer. Where, the only wild animals staring me down were two kitties wondering why I wasn't paying attention to them.  Windows open, documentary on the tv...I got in another 35 miles, chase free.  Whew.  Note: You never hear of a cyclist  being chased by a cat.  IJS.

 Turns out, The Cyclist had a much worse day on the bike as well.  Common denominator? Blueberry donuts.  Moral of the story: no more donuts before a ride!  

Have you ever been chased by a dog while you were cycling?  How did you handle it?  

Wordless Wednesday

Olivia has started this new thing recently - grooming.  She'll comb through your hair with her nose or even her hands.  It is weird but sweet, too.  Guess she realizes what a hot mess I am most days and figures I need some help!

Spring Time in Texas Means Music and Dresses

It's spring time in Texas.

Well, just about everywhere, actually.  That means gorgeous weather and FESTIVALS!  Sadly, I've missed most of the spring festivals due to training.  Like, last weekend.  I really wanted to head to the Untapped Festival. But after 90 miles on my bike I just didn't feel up to heading to Fort Worth (about a 45 minute drive) to stand on my tired feet all evening.  Even IF they featured some great local bands.  Call me a whimp.  On several occasions, I've actually had tickets to see an artist perform, but come concert night, I just didn't have it in me to stay awake.  Total lamesauce, TPG.  (David Ramirez, I WILL make it to your show eventually - it's been too long) 

But when I saw they were hosting a benefit concert for West, TX in the Dallas Arts District, I was all over that like a duck on a junebug.  Several great Dallas artists were on the bill and bonus, you could SIT DOWN.  Just what I needed.  Sunday afternoon delivered fantastic weather, sunny but not hot.  I packed a supper and we headed out to enjoy the show.  What a treat!  Texans for West did not disappoint!  The music was incredible and it was so nice to sit out on the lawn and just enjoy the evening.  (yes, many, many Oreos were consumed - hey, it was a big weekend of workouts)  Great job, Dallas, for acting to quickly to put on an event to support the good people of West, TX!  

Waiting for Somebody's Darling to come on stage.

Today, on my lunch break, I headed out to buy a new dress.  I LOVE dresses.  So much cooler than shorts in the summer plus, they are girly.  But, shopping is not a skill of mine.  I really depend on Shabby Princess to make my decisions help me shop.  Since she was in Cali (RUDE) we had to depend on texting to get the job done in the limited time available.

This is what I would have bought.  Even though I already own about eleventy striped dresses.  This is why I need her.  Heck, I'll still prolly buy this.  I can't help it; I love stripes!

Armed with screen shots to guide me, I cautiously approached Anthro solo.  This takes guts y'all because that store OVERWHELMS me.  So much to look at - so much color, so much pattern!  But as anxious as it makes me, they really know how to cut a dress to flatter.  I've learned, you just have to try them on. Sigh.  I gathered up a bouquet of floral dresses and headed to the dressing rooms.

First off, the one I found on-line that I thought I would love.  I wasn't crazy about it in the dressing room, but sent her a pic anyway.  Note: it is MANDATORY that you make stoopid faces when texting dressing room pic to your bestie.  I like the color and fit of this dress.  It is super light - perfect for summer.  It did show my wonky tri-tan in the back though. Good thing I have long hair to somewhat cover up that permanent racer back.

Next, the sale dress.  This one, of course, immediately goes to the top of the list because it is on clearance.  It has the cutest navy slip, too!  I really like the heavy weight of the fabric and the back is elastic smocking so it fits really well.  I know I won't spend the afternoon hitching up my dress.  While I'm not super comfortable with strapless dresses, (my wide shoulders need something to break up all that!) it does come with little straps you can button on.  And I like the ribbon sash.  I'm a sucker for ribbon!

I picked this one off the rack really unsure about it.  It's a maxi dress and I'm of the opinion that mini girls prolly shouldn't wear maxi dresses.  But when I entered the dressing room area, another girl had this on in blue. She looked fabulous and I told her so.  Note: If you ever want to feel good about yourself, try on things in the Anthropolgie dressing area.  All the other shoppers are always so encouraging!  This one gets high marks because, duh, it is orange. Also, it has a high waist so I can scarf as many Oreos as I want and it won't get tight.  

Finally, this fun swooshy dress.  Shabby owns this, I think I was with her when she got it.  It felt like a lot of dress on me - I'm not sure I have the personality to pull off those cha cha ruffles. I for sure don't have the ah, cha chas, to fill out the top.  It was very loose!

Honestly, I want them all!  After flurry of texts to Shabby and my GM girls, I made up my mind.  

Which one do you think I picked???

Are you a Dress Girl?

They Do These Kinds of Things

Recently, I headed for the Texas Hill Country and set up camp in Bastrop State Park.  Yep, again.  I do love exploring Texas state parks!  We were there for the Austin Rattler 100 – a MTB race for The Cyclist.  

Annnnd the Man in Black is off!

Well rested after a good night’s sleep under the stars, Saturday morning we arrived at Rocky Hill Ranch and set about the business of getting him ready to ride.  The Rattler is a Leadville qualifier and they run a fantastic race!  I was impressed with everything I saw – so well organized!  He took off right behind the pros and I hung around, waiting to see him come back around after his first of four loops. 

Looking strong after the first loop.

Loop One was done in a flash. He was riding strong so I headed out for MY ride.  Yep, the training doesn’t stop just because I’m traveling.  I didn’t really have a solid plan – ride up the highway for a few hours, turn around, ride back.  On my way out of the park though (carrying my fragile little tri bike so I didn’t pick up any goat heads) I met another triathlete coming BACK from his ride.  We talked for a good bit – he also raced Galveston the weekend before – and he gave me some route suggestions that ended up being cycling gold.

The Easter Bunny brought cycling socks with skulls to match my kit!

I headed down the highway for a piece and rolled up the Buescher (pronounced Bish-er) State Park.  Paid my $2 to get in and rode all over that beautiful park, stopping to enjoy the lake. 

There is a park road that connects both Buescher and Bastrop State Parks.  And it is fantastic!  Since it is a park road there is no traffic.  I could ride without the fear of the 80+ mph on the highway.  And with the steep grades and winding descents, I was thankful for the open road.  I’m  not gonna lie, the Hill Country ALWAYS test my climbing skills.  The park website even reads, “The scenic paved road…which is winding and hilly, is ideal for biking but should be used only by experienced cyclists.”  it was challenging!

They were NOT kidding about the steep grades and general squigeldiness!  Yes, I'm a nerd and didn't realize and old race number was still on my helmet until I saw this photo. Sheesh, Fred.

I stopped a few times to catch my breath take the in the devastation from the fires in 2011.  Texas is is still in a huge drought but the summer of 11 was especially dry and dangerous.  At one point, there were uncontrolled fires in most every county in the state. (and we have 254!) I can still see the tragic images of poor Bastrop, engulfed in flames.  The ashes have long since stopped smouldering but much of the forest is gone.

Acres and acres of burned trees

No pics, but I did meet three cyclists on road bikes loaded down with paniers. They are riding from San Diego to Florida!  ON BIKES.  Um, how cool is THAT?  Very.  A quick look at Google Maps on the phone and I sent them out of the park and on their way to W@lm@art for supplies. 

I could look at this countryside all day long and never tire of the view.  I text Natalie while I was there and her reply was, "When are you going to just MOVE here already?"  

I eventually made it back to the finish line. But sadly, not in time to see him finish.  Whomp whomp. Somebody rode much, much faster than anticipated. But that’s a good thing!  He kicked some serious trail tail that day, even qualifying for the Leadville Lottery!    I’m pretty sure there is nothing that he CAN’T do.  He’s extraordinary!

Still smiling! And hey, that sure is a sweet bike...

We spent an enjoyable afternoon at the race, watching the other riders finish up while soaking up the sun.  It was a gorgeous Texas Spring Day – sunny, not too hot, not too windy.  Just right.  Dinner and a walk around the park made sure I slept well, once again. 

Signs marked this as a “Scenic Overlook.”  Not too scenic anymore.  I stood there taking in the acres and acres of charred forest – as far as I could see.  And I wondered, how many generations will it take for the forest to reclaim this devastated area? So sad. 

We've done a lot of camping this year, always with our bikes and there are several more trips on the schedule, namely The Cyclist's 24 Hrs in the Canyon in June.  Post HHH last summer, two guys came up to us at our campsite and struck up a conversation. They commented on how tough the ride was and when they asked us if we thought it was hard, we just looked at each other, not sure how to answer just yet.  And then the other guy said, "You're asking the wrong people. They do these kinds of things."  And it's true.  We DO do these kinds of things.  Doesn't make it easy but good golly Pete it sure is fun trying!  Any time I can combine camping and cycling - I'm in!

I’m looking forward to heading back to Bastrop and riding that park road once again.  I’d recommend it to anyone out that way.  Just be ready to be humbled by the hills!

HOLD THIS THREAD WHILE I WALK AWAY - Ironman Texas 70.3 Race Recap

So I raced this weekend.  Surprise!  I kept it on the dl but Twitter outted me. Thank you for all the love y'all sent over the interwebs!  I wasn't sure what to expect from this race.  I've been feeling slow and uncertain of my abilities.  Trust your training, I KNOW.  But I haven't raced in over six months - it's hard to gauge your progress with no numbers behind it.
So off to Galveston to race Ironman Texas 70.3 we went.  My main goal was to NOT think about doubling this next month, but to focus on the race before me and use this as a hella tough training day.

Me and mah Tri- Bestie at packet pick up. 

Of course, we never go anywhere without taking our bicycles. We've been really fortunate that every hotel has been super accommodating to us rolling our bikes through the halls.
The Cyclist took off to ride the 56 mile course on Saturday and I got in a quick run, taking in the ocean.

Then it was legs up for me and a long nap while he cycled all over the island.

I got in two solid naps on Saturday and a very good night's sleep.  Race morning didn't bring nerves, I just calmly set up transition and we found a spot by the swim start to relax and watch the first few waves jump in. Then, before I knew it, the orange caps were lining up and so did I.  Once again, like last year, Pink Nutria Powah was with me and as I jumped off the dock, Cake began to play.  And not just any Cake Song, but my anthem, Short Skirt Long Jacket.  It just doesn't get any better than that.  

Photo from The Cyclist 

And then?  And then it all fell apart.  I didn't panic.  I didn't hyperventilate.  I tried to swim and just couldn't. I felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion - the same feeling I've had for the past few weeks. I'm resting, but I'm not rested.  My arms moved in the same motion they always do but I was getting nowhere.  It's like my boat sunk and I'm all, "Well, now what?"  I looked at the buoys and they seemed infinite.  I tried to swim, I swam on my back, I frog swam and I briefly eyed a kayak and considered saying, "Just take me back."  No lie.  I really don't know what happened but swimming sure didn't.  I could not find my grove.  So awkward in the water.  After what seemed like absolutely forever, I finally got to the first red buoy indicating a turn.  Frustrated with myself, I eyed the longest section of the swim.  And then all at once I was overcome with emotion.  (note: if your barf reflex is strong, just skip this part, I'm about to get sickeningly schmoopy)

I thought of The Cyclist waiting for me at the swim finish.  I thought of how concerned he would be if I took any longer than I indicated.  I though of how incredibly supportive he's been during this training cycle. How he fixes meals for me and bring me groceries, bags filled with all my favorite things.  How he listens to me go on and on about my training, always doing a remarkable job of feigning interest. How he's driven me and my bicycle all over this state to train, never once allowing me to rack my own bike or carry my own things.  How he has rejoiced in my victories and consoled me when things didn't go as planned.  I thought of how excited he is to support me in Houston next month.  And at that moment, more than I wanted out of that water,  all I wanted was to see him again.  So I started swimming.  And I kept swimming until my hands brushed the shore. Then I lumbered out of the bay, oh so ungracefully, peeled off my goggles, and there he was, smiling so big.  And my heart was full.  

Best. Sherpa. Evah.

The next thing I knew I was on my bicycle.  Oh, how I love to ride my bicycle!  But once again, my body didn't cooperate.  My legs just wouldn't go.  I had every intention of averaging around 18 mph but my legs had other plans.  Sure, it was windy, but even so, I'm fully capable of maintaining that speed on a closed course. It just didn't happen.  I smiled the entire time, despite the fact that I got passed over and over.  It's like I was some other cyclist - a slow one.  I really don't know what happened.  But I was pretty consistent at least and while I fought to keep my cadence up and my bike time was about 20 minutes slower than I had hoped, overall, I'm pleased with my bike.  I ate and drank and stayed upright.  So there's that.

Oh, I love bicycling!  Photo from this dude. Also?  This sunblocking shrug from Pearl Izumi saved my back and shoulders from the Texas sun!   

As in most triathlons, the run came last.  My goal was to average an 11 min mile. This is just an entirely different kind of race - slow and steady.  And I nailed it.  My average pace was just under 11.  Booyah!  I walked the water stops, not always drinking but always dumping water over my head - it was a warm, sunny day, not a sliver of shade to be found.  A three loop course, I played mental games with myself.  On my second lap I told myself, "Hey, you only have to see this once more!"  I felt strong the entire run, never once going to that ugly place in my head.  Nope, I left those feelings out in the salty bay.  

As I neared the finish, I asked the guy next to me if it was his last loop too.  He confirmed that it was and I replied, "Well, zip your kit and gussy up, we're almost there!"  And took off without him.  

Just like that, I unceremoniously crossed the finish.  I heard them call my name after I'd received my hat, medal and water.  There are always a few moments of confusion for me once I finish an endurance race.  My brain has been so focused, suddenly I can't make small decisions.  I had to have a volunteer open my water for me!  (oh mah guah, y'all, the volunteers were absolutely fabulous - y'all ROCK my face off!  Thank you for being so entirely awesome!) 

Making my way out of the chute, The Cyclist was there waiting.  With complete disregard for how disgusting I was, he scooped me up and we were both glad I was done.  He led me to some shade and eventually Hedi and Brian found us. 

Things didn't go as planned, sure.  I've got a lot to figure out in the next five weeks.  And doubt is starting to creep in.  I have a hard time celebrating my accomplishments, but I'm very skilled at picking apart what went poorly.  I am fully capable of racing harder, of doing better.  I don't know why, but I just didn't on Sunday.  But it is what it is. That's what I had in me on race day and I can honestly say I gave it all I had that day.  I did my best on that day. And that's all I can ask of myself.  

In my oh so comfy Betty Kit, celebrating with another very delicious Betty.

One last note, spotted this gem and it stopped me in my tracks. Coolest race wheels EVAH.  The only thing better than Cake is Weezer.  (okay, and the Beastie Boys) Is that not the best thing you've ever seen?  Hey, Christopher Strum 998, message me.  I think we can pool our resources and bribe the DJ to play some Weezer at the start of IMTX.  You in brotha?  (sick bike too, my man) 

I neeeeeed Weezer Wheels!  

What would your wheels say?