brrrring, Brrrring, BRRRRING.
The wake-up call sang out to me Sunday morning around 5:15.
"I really wouldn't mind if it is raining so I can roll right back over" was the first thought in my mind as I looked out the window to see a clear, dark morning mocking me.
So, instead, I stretched out for a few minutes before resigning myself that there was no excuse to skip the day's race.
No nerves, nothing to really do, I dressed, grabbed my gear - and met up with three other co-workers - all guys (and a fabulous sherpa girlfriend).
One coworker and I joked about how easily we could be convinced to find a rich 'ol, fattening, yummy breakfast - until we were split up by the more dedicated and motivated of the bunch to head over, once again, to El Reno Lake.
The drive - and company - helped my mood. I progressed from "I don't want to do this" to "I guess I have to do this" to "I'll do this and think of it as a training day." The open water exposure would be a good warm-up for next weekend - and the rest of the race would help burn off the abundance of conference calories waiting for me. I'd left my Garmin at home by accident - and knew that without a watch there wouldn't be much of a way to really keep track of how I was doing.
We arrived at the race site. It was humid, but overcast and less windy. The water was calm.
The coworkers I raced with were awesome - I think we were more concerned with helping each other than anything else.
"Need some body glide?"
"Want a tray to wash your feet?"
"Do you have an extra towel?"
The race announcer seemed a bit...grumpy from the previous day. He chastised us about the record number of penalties given out at the previous day's Sprint. He warned us that he did not want a repeat of yesterday's swim - and if anyone was even remotely uncomfortable in open water, he'd let them race in the "Land Lovers" category.
We all headed down to the lake as the race was a mass start. After my coworkers and I gave each other last high fives - I headed to the back of the pack. The gun sounded and we were off. The water was very murky - similar to the James River. If there were any fish or debris, I couldn't see it.
I soon realized I probably shouldn't have started quite so far back. Big, oblivious men created a road block as I tried to settle in. One particularly annoying guy would not let me pass as he criss-crossed in front of me while I tried to swim around him. I gave up on keeping a path close to the buoys and veered off to the outskirts of the course. There, I finally started to find my groove.
Exiting the water, one volunteer unzipped my wetsuit, another pulled me up to the race exit - and after a short run, a couple more helped strip off my wetsuit (how cool was THAT at an Olympic distance race???!!!). Going into transition, I checked the clock - 31:10.
And I smiled - a nice 6-7 minute gain from my past Olympic PR swim.
In transition, I started to prepare for the bike. One of my coworkers exited the swim and since we were racked together, we spent some time trading stories.
I breathed a sigh of relief starting the bike. There was wind, but not nearly as bad as the day before. Still, I was only cautiously optimistic. Three days in Oklahoma had taught me that the winds tended to pick up throughout the day.
My luck held out. Just a steady, reasonable crosswind for the entire bike. I passed through the same course as the previous day, then hit the race hills. I'd worried about the race climbs, but they were really just a series of long rollers. Four each way on the out and back of the extra 13ish miles. The worst part of the bike was a valley between two climbs, with a particularly bumpy asphalt pot hole patch, further complicated by the array of abandoned water bottles.
Pulling into transition, I met up with two other coworkers for a couple of minutes as we got ready for the run. Trying to do the math when checking the race clock, my bike time looked decent - about 1:22 for 25 miles. A noticable pacing improvement from the previous day's relay.
I started the run. It was humid, warm - but overcast for the first three miles. The run was a two loop out and back, with about half of each leg on packed dirt. No shade, but nice views of the lake.
I swear the 1.6ish legs seemed way longer. I walked all the water stops as the humidity was getting to me. One coworker, who was competing in the "Land Lover" category, ran by and was quickly out of sight. My other coworkers and I trudged along, giving each other high fives, as the sun started to heat up the course a bit more.
Finally the second loop was ending and the finish was in sight. My fastest Olympic tri run at 1:01:30ish.
Was I reading the clock right - did it say 3 hours and 40 seconds? An overall PR of about 19 minutes and PRs for all three legs - swim, bike and run? TRIgirl CD had predicted it a few days ago, but I hadn't believed her. I was never more happy to be wrong.
And oh, that 40 seconds. Had I known just 40 seconds would stand between me and a sub 3 hour race, my transitions may not have looked like this:
Yes, out of all women, I finished LAST in both T1 and T2.
Overall I was very happy - the day turned out well. Racing with my coworkers was very cool. We cheered each other across the finish line. One lifted me in a big bear hug to celebrate.
We took pictures, ate - and packed up our gear as storm clouds started to come through.
Only later I would learn, after the results were posted online, I placed first in my age group.
Now there were only five people in my age group.
But I can't deny it felt very cool to see my name at the top of the list instead of the bottom!
