Peasantman Sprint Triathlon 2012 Race Recap, Part One

Preamble

Hmm, what's the best way to explain Peasantman? Perhaps I'll just quote a bit from the Athlete's guide to give you a flavor (and I encourage you to go read the rest of it if you need a good laugh):

Hello Peasant Class Citizens,
The greatest day of your lives is here. For many of you, this will be your first swim, bike, and run combo event of any kind. A few of you may not be able to sleep the night before. Others will likely pee a lot inside their wetsuits prior to the swim.

All I have to say is, please bring a cup or wear your favorite chastity belt underneath your wetsuit. Assuming the later isn’t from the Ballston/Claredon/Court House corridor, where chastity is frowned upon. (n.b.: This is a sophisticated D.C. humorous geographical reference.)

For some, this event will bring validation of all their training and hard work. For others, it will be a rude awakening of work that lies ahead. It may scare many to see what a real open water swim entails.

Getting molested during an open water swim is not as fun as the liberal media may portray it to be. If things do not go as you expect, I give you the below quote.

"Courage doesn't always roar, sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying "I will try again tomorrow."

To the new triathletes among us, you guys are doing something that few even have the courage to attempt. I applaud you for that. I’d applaud you louder if you resist the temptation to pee in the lake. If you don’t, it won’t matter – the discharge from the nuclear power plant at Lake Anna will zap anything you discharge. (n.b.: More local humor.)

One of my favorite quotes is “life is not measured by the number of breath that we take but by the moments and places that take our breaths away.” Success or failure, this will be one of those moments for you. Embrace it! Live it! ... for there is only one first time.

The best way I can explain Peasantman is to say it's a training triathlon with both Sprint and Olympic distance options, takes place at Lake Anna (Virginia); the sprint is a 750 meter swim in Lake Anna, followed by 11 mile bike ride, followed by a 5k run. Exactly like a real tri except for all the rules. So, for instance, if you find yourself unable to finish the swim, it is perfectly acceptable to get out early and continue on the bike. Or skip the bike, and just run. Or skip everything and just eat.

My kind of race!

It is the brainchild of D.C. Tri-(er? ist? man?) Tuan Nguyen (aka the "Vertical Swimmer") several time Ironman, who (you might be surprised to learn) is of Vietnamese extraction. He is harder to explain, except to say that he is a mix of juvenile toilet humor (see above) and breathtaking inspiration (see above).

In a word, the perfect man!

Tuan's epic-length weekly email updates about this event are ... well, epic. And hilarious. And really? The main reason I registered, after being absent from triathlon/running/sportsofanykind since oh approximately exactly Jan. 30, 2010 is so I could stay on the mailing list.

So, on a fateful March 8, 2012, apparently while in some sort of fugue state, I hit the register button. For a May 6 triathlon. Which would give me about 8 weeks to go from zero to sprint tri. Continuing to uphold the Notborntorun motto:

Undertrained and overanxious!

Sometime in late March (why rush?) I realized I should probably start training.

My secret plan was to sort of half-assedly train, because I never for one moment thought I might, you know, actually compete.

But a funny thing happened. I found that I had actually missed training. A LOT. I started looking forward to it. I figured out a way to run (ok, run/walk) on the awesome rail-to-trail near my office. And I made it a point to get in the pool at least twice a week.

Oh wait. Isn't there's some third thing in triathlon that I'm forgetting...?? Ah yes. The bike. Yeah, I figured I would just wing the bike. I mean, how hard could it possibly be to ride a bike for 11 miles????!!

Thus began my spring 2012 triathlon training!

Foreword

My friend and mentor Ironwoman Becky was a constant source of encouragement. And about 2 weeks out, I started toying with the idea of actually showing up for this race, if for no other reason than to make her happy! (I should also add that Becky was volunteer coordinator for this event, which benefited the High Cloud Foundation).

So two weeks out, knowing she probably had nothing better to do, I emailed Becky and we had the following exchange (I am soooo not making this up):

Me: Ok, can you give me a (relatively) SANE swim workout for tonight? Forget about 30' or 60'... time goals just totally freak me out. I think the longest continual swim i've done this spring is 400m (and that includes wall clutching!). i have a total mental block about swimming 700 straight thru. i'm completely convinced i cannot do it!

Becky: You've got a week and a half. How many swims will you do between now and then, honestly? I'll come up with a progression with that in mind.

Me: Four swims, realistically. counting tonight!

Becky:

Becky:

Becky: Sigh.

Becky: Try this:

1) 4x200 (30").
2) 3x300(30"),
3) 2x400(60").
4) 600(60"), 200.

Me: Is that ALL for one night??

Becky:

Becky: no, each is a different day's workout.

Becky: 4x200 (30") translation: after your warm up, do 4 sets of 200m swimming. Between each set of 200 rest for 30 seconds.


Me: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me: i thought you were saying to do it IN 30" !!!!

Me: OK, now I like you again.:)

Becky:

And the next thing I knew, it was May 6, 2012, race day.

To be continued...

(Sorry I know this is lame, but I have so much to share! I promise I won't leave you hanging for long. If it helps, SPOILER ALERT: I FINISHED!)

Weekend in Review

First, let me share my Major Award from the North East Olympic Triathlon:



It seems to have an inner radiance, non?

They don't just hand these things out like candy, people! (Well, they kind of do...)

Anyway, we can all revel in this high point of my life so far.

But wait!

I followed up that stunning victory with the final D.C. Tri Training Tri last Saturday.

I am pleased to report that our long national nightmare is finally over.

Progress. Has. Been. Made.

	August 22, 2009	July 12, 2009	July 13, 2008
swim 400 yards	10:47 (2:42/100m)	10:34 (2:39/100m)	11:11 (2:48/100m)
t1	3:50	4:05	3:47
bike 16.8 miles	1:02:38 (*16.09 mph*!!!)	1:04:58 (15.52 mph)	1:04:51 (15.54 mph)
t2	1:29	1:32	1:24
run 5k	36:17 (11:40 min/mile)	38:37 (12:27 min/mile)	36:50 (11:53 min/mile)
Total	1:55:01	1:59:46	1:58:03

I have finally broken out into 16 mph on the bike.

I'm a 16 mph-er!

Of course, to achieve progress on the bike, I (apparently) had to give up a little on the swim. Sigh.

And no walking during my blazing fast run, either, of which I am damn good and proud.

Afterwards, as usual, we all gathered for post-barbecue and other goodies at the picnic area on Haine's Point. I was feeling good!

Right up until I passed out.

I had just introduced myself to Alejandro, and he was in the middle of answering some fascinating question I had tossed his way, when all of a sudden: Who turned out the lights??

Everything went dark. I knew I was about to faint, since that was a favorite pasttime of mine during high school. I quickly sat down and put my head between my legs and proceeded to sweat to death. I wasn't feeling so great. I asked Jason if people would think it was weird if I laid down on the ground, and I don't remember what he said, not that it mattered. Quick-thinking Jason put his first-aid skills to use by making me eat a bag of chips, stat. Thanks, man!

I am prone to low blood pressure, so that's what I think it was. I had a Gu and HEED during the race, so I don't think it was low blood sugar.

Always the drama queen...

Everything was fine after that.

So fine, in fact, that I came home and ate everything in sight, and then got ready to take my friend John up to my 'hood, Skyline Drive (part of the Shenandoah National Park), at o-dark thirty Sunday morning:

Photos courtesy Tammy, who we happened to meet on this overlook.

John is a trooper!

Elevation. I love this ride. It's haaaard.


This time the only wildlife I saw was a turtle crossing the street, and some squirrels. I am getting better at going downhill, too. I no longer spend the entire time contemplating death by bike.

A beautiful, peaceful day in the mountains. Toss me some chocolate milk at the end, and I'm GOOD.

Oh, and I made another pie after I came home (technically? A cobbler.) Blackberries and peaches.

Summer

Training Tri Race Report: Plus ça change ...

(Now with table fixed!) Last Sunday (wow, it seems so long ago!) was my first D.C. Tri training tri of the season. D.C. Tri's training tris are legendary. $5, limited to 120 people, they take place at evil (or delightful, depends) Haine's Point, in the Haine's Point 50 m pool, 3 long loops around the point on the bike (16.8 miles) and a 5k run. It's a great event, run entirely by volunteers, held early in the a.m. to beat the traffic since roads are not closed. Transition takes place on the grassy median strip, where bikes are laid down (chainring side UP please!)

So it's also a terrific way to judge your level of fitness from year to year, since the only (external) thing that changes is the weather. Internal changes, on the other hand...

Oh let's cut to the chase. This year versus last year looks like this:

	July 12, 2009	July 13, 2008
swim 400 yards	10:34 (2:39/100m)	11:11 (2:48/100m)
t1	4:05	3:47
bike 16.8 miles	1:04:58 (15.52mph)	1:04:51 (15.54 mph)
t2	1:32	1:24
run 5k	38:37 (12:27 min/mile)	36:50 (11:53 min/mile)
Total	1:59:46	1:58:03

Well, on the one hand I had high hopes this year of crushing last year's time. On the other, I thought: What better time and place to experiment?? So my first big experiment was using all the skills that have been beaten into me by the swim nazi. The swim works like this: the field is divided in half; people start in the middle lanes and work their way up 50 meters using one side of the lane, back 50 meters on the other side of the same lane, under the rope, and etc., to the end like this:

START HERE

You give your 100m time to the folks at the sign-up table, and get seeded accordingly. So I said "2:30", meaning that people who swim say, 2:20, would be in front of me. Theoretically. If they actually, you know, tell the truth. Well, I happened to overhear a few (two) little birdies give their estimated swim times, and let's just say that I had my doubts about said times, which of course I voiced. Why does this matter, you ask? Because, if you are slower than you say you are, well, the people behind you are not going to be happy. It's not terrifically easy (see technical diagram) to swim around people, since other peeps are coming right towards you, in the other half of the lane.

So all I'm saying is: I could SOOOOO have knocked another 15 seconds off my swim time except for the person in front of me, for whom I had to actually STOP swimming, cuz I couldn't pass him! FIFTEEN SECONDS! (Not that it matters.) When I got to 200 meters, I asked him if I could cut ahead. Cuz I was brought up polite like that.

Even so, the swim was my one bright spot over last year. Well, ok, I did shave I meant ADD 7 seconds off to my bike. And it's entirely possible that I was a wee bit too laid back during transitions.

My bike "experiment" I learned from watching the Tour. Turns out those dudes? When they want to go faster? They use bigger gears! WHO. FREAKING. KNEW. Since Haine's Point is flat as a pancake, I tried to stay in my big giant gear, and push as hard as I could. I'm actually happy with my bike time because a) it practically killed me (always a good thing, right?), and 2) last year I did not use the Big Girl gear AT ALL, NEVER. (I'm not totally sure what that means in terms of performance, or smartness. Bike people, weigh in please.)

And then there's the run. I have no idea what happened because 1) I did not walk (I know, hard to believe, right?) and b) I did not give up nor did I feel like giving up. This is big progress people! Going from T2 into the run was way tougher than I remember from last year, and way way tougher than it was during the ITU sprint just four weeks ago, when my 5k time was 35:32 (11:28 min./mile).

So, with all that in mind, and the Nation's Tri (Olympic) the only thing left on my dance card this season on Sept. 13, over which I am already freaked, and which sounded just tough enough, I did the only thing I know how to do: When I heard that the MidAtlantic Regional Club Championship, the North East Triathlon on August 16th, had some extra spots open for DC Tri peeps, I took the plunge and signed up.

As someone told me at the track tonight: "Just think of it as a great big party."

Or a wake.

67 Miles and a Massage

Enough fooling around, it's back to the fitness front (and front is the correct word, because it certainly feels like a war):
Saturday, I ran 4 miles in the a.m. with the HIPsters. This might not sound like much, but I must confess, since the 10k debacle I have been REALLY mad at running. No kidding. I boycotted it for 10 straight days. (Which, for the record? I don't really recommend.)

I gave in to its whimpers on Wednesday, running 3 miles in the rain, and it was back to its usual tricks of letting me know that it would take another 10 weeks to regain what I'd lost in 10 days. Another 3 on the treadmill on Friday morning brought me to a whopping total of 10 miles last week.

Saturday: Pre-Mothers' Day:

Number One Daughter was out of town, cavorting with some astronauts down at Cape Canaveral on Mothers' Day weekend, but sent me a mysterious e-mail with these directions

btw...3:45 pm Saturday you are going to this address:
2471 18th St NW
(between N Adams Mill Rd & N Belmont Rd)
Washington, DC 20009
(202) 320-0250
BUT don't look up the address or anything ahead of time! i just watned [sic: we're authentic here at NBTR headquarters] you to have it in an email!

Fun! I adore surprises! Was it botox? Liposuction? BACHELOR #3?????

Even better! It was a massage, from here. Hot stones, and a masseuse who worked on my shoulders and neck until I thought I would cry. In a good way.

Sunday: Happy Mothers' Day!

Then it was early to bed so I could get ready for an 8 a.m. clip-in, to ride the Eagleman bike course, some 2.5 hours away in beautiful Cambridge, Maryland (land of the Tobymeister). What better way to celebrate Mothers' Day?

There was a 37-mile option, or a 56-mile option. My longest ride to date has been 30 miles...and that was just last week! Of course I chose 56-miles. (I have a blog to write, people!)

Things were good for 30 miles. I hung with the pack, we practiced drafting (this is actually hair-raising) we were talking, laughing, taking in the sights, nature, osprey, butterflies, frogs, turtles, peacocks. Life was good. Except for the wind.





It was windy.

OK, I know people say "It was REALLY windy," and you know, they mean the wind was blowing.

This wasn't like that.

This was the kind of wind that makes you wonder WHY THEY AREN'T EVACUATING people. But don't take my word for it, let's ask Tuan, who can actually, you know, ride:

The ride was a 56 miles single loop ride on as flat roads as you will find. The wind was just relentless. Is it possible for the wind to blow in 4 different directions at once ? There were parts where the headwind was so strong that when I turned to my left, the headwind followed my head to become a left crosswind. I turned to my right and it followed me there too. I turned around to look behind me and you'd guessed it ... son of a gun was waiting for me. It was like getting bitch slapped by four women at once.

Like that.

We all had cue sheets (bike talk for "directions") but there were also bright pink fluorescent markings on the pavement all along the route that said "EM thisaway" or "EM thataway" ("EM"=Eagleman, "thisaway"=arrows pointing the way). At 30 miles the cue sheet said turn RIGHT, and the pink fluorescent marking said LEFT. Some of us went right. For 4.5 miles. Until ONE of us (THANK GOD—and SHANNON!) realized, um, this is the wrong way.

Oh, how innocent and carefree we were pre-mile 30!

And then there were four. I was still OK, amazed that I could even turn the pedals. Still in relatively good spirits.

It's amazing the panoply of emotions one goes through when stuck in a (somewhat) desperate situation. Resignation, denial, acceptance. Bargaining with God. ("Please just stop the wind for a minute and I promise to join a convent!")

And tell me please, WHY I had to have the refrain from this song playing ENDLESSLY in my brain? For four solid hours.

I started wondering whether it was possible for the wind to actually read a map. I mean, maybe when man created roads, he altered the wind currents. It's a theory I entertained while riding along (the appropriately named) Egypt Road for 7 long, endless, slogging miles, where I think I entered another realm. No matter which way the road went, the wind came directly at me. It was ALIVE!

I fell way behind. I couldn't take it! But I had the best bike buddies ever, and they had all waited for me as I made the long Exodus out of Egypt (Rd). We had 10 miles left. I almost wept for joy. My thoughts turned to pancakes. And crabcakes, chocolate milk and ice cream sundaes.

I don't know how but I finally made it back. I peeled myself off the bike, anxious to see which parts of me would remain on the bike. Luckily, everything was intact.

We high-fived. Some crazy people went for a run. We drove to Paneras and I got a PB&J sandwich and chocolate milk off the kids menu, and then suited up for the long long ride home.

It was the best day of my life and I can't wait to do it again.

I Finally Won Something!

I was out of town a few weeks ago when D.C. Tri's New Triathlete Program held its graduation and we all turned from NTP'ers into OTP'ers (Old Triathletes). Prizes were bestowed, and although I have yet to get a definitive (or any) list I do know that my friend minime won the award for "Most Enthusiastic Swim Finisher."

(No that's not me. As if.) See? You can't argue with that award.

Naturally, I was mad jealous, although I had heard whispers that I too, had won something, and that it was "most spirit" or something. Which was so thrilling in itself to me that I made it my Facebook status and told everyone at work. I had NO IDEA there was like, an actual PRIZE or anything. I mean, I thought maybe I'd get some free body glide.

So this week when I got a cryptic e-mail from our club president, addressed to me, minime and another person, saying

Hey guys,

You've all won a free entry to Nation's Tri for next year. I don't have the code for you to sign in yet but I'll have it VERY soon. Just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten about it.

Hope you're all well,

I was naturally baffled, skeptical, and unbelieving. So at last night's holiday party, I cornered said president and asked him: Say what??

It turns out that I won the "most inspirational" award! And FREE ENTRY into Nation's!! Which I was just the other day moaning about how expensive it is ($165 until January when it jumps to $190).

All I can say is: I am not worthy!!

And hell's bells. I haven't won anything since I won the inaugural "Martha Stewart" award at my company's annual cookie party (the title being slightly ironic).

This is the best present ever.

EVER.

I guess this means I'm definitely in for Nation's!

Thanks, guys. Back atcha times infinity.

My other favorite NTP-er-now-OTP-er Sandy made this FANTASTIC video montage from all of NTPs escapades last spring and summer. This year was the best year of my life, bar none, all because of my D.C. Tri peeps, and I hope this video makes you cry as much as it made me



Late add: Don't forget to watch the Ironman World Championship (Kona) Sat. Dec. 13, from 2-4 p.m., on NBC! Need more inspiration? Check out the trailer.

Swim, Bike, Walk with Bike, and Run: The Quadrathon!

Yesterday was D.C. Tri's last training tri of the summer. I wanted to compare my time to my first training tri. Also, I wanted to try out my new "no walking" regimen. Plus, I wanted to try out whatever it is I've managed to learn in my swimming classes the past 4 sessions.

I had a Big Order to fill yesterday, people.

I got up at 4:15, took care of bizness, loaded the car, and got to Haine's Point around 6ish, nabbed the best parking place and the best transition spot (always thinking of others...). Soon enough others starting trickling in, including some new folks, and because I am now a graduate of the New Triathlete Program, I could actually tell people what to expect (they thought I knew things! HA HA). Not only that, but two people forgot a pump, so I ran to my car, got mine and lent it out! And another person forgot to eat breakfast so I gave her a Cliff Bar!

I'm a freakin' SAINT!!!

It was gorgeous yesterday, blue skies, slight wind, must have been in the high 70s. I decided on a new strategy yesterday, after there being so much DRAMA over what to wear during the New Jersey State tri. Yesterday, for the First Time Ever, I wore only my running bra and my tri shorts for the swim. (Yes, I know. But hey, at least I didn't have to look at me.)

The swim went well; no collisions. We did 400 in a 50 meter pool, so I tried to practice one part of the 900 parts of swimming in each lane. I'm guessing it took me about 11 minutes, give or take.

Ran to the bike, put on helmet, sox and shoes...and then tried to put my D.C. Road Runners tank top on. Over the helmet. Sigh. Remove helmet, try again.

I actually liked swimming in the bra top and then adding a regular top afterwards. Once I get the helmet thing under control, I think this system will work.

On the back of my D.C. Road Runners tank, it says,
Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?

It's cute.

Started slowly on the bike, but I was feeling GOOD. I noticed that pedaling felt harder than usual but attributed that to a strong headwind. A headwind that seemed to be coming at me no matter what direction I went. When, la-de-da, around mile 4 of 16.8, something felt amiss. It could not be ANOTHER flat. Not two days after my first one, could it???

It could.

But, no problem, I'll just whip out my spare...which I just used on Wednesday...and hadn't yet replaced. Son of a $#!!~#

This is what I get for being NICE TO PEOPLE?!!! HELLO UP THERE???

I wasted 10 minutes trying to use a C02 cartridge to inflate my dead tube, thinking maybe...the hole in the tube would heal itself? Didn't matter, couldn't get cartridge to work. (That's because I hadn't read these most excellent directions!.)

So many many people flying by me and just about every single one asked if I was OK. I heart my D.C. Tri Club.

And then started the Long Walk back, in cleats. I was only about 2 miles away from transition. I was kinda mad though.

Got to transition, told them I was O-U-T, and then said I was gonna run anyway (can't have the day be a total loss. Plus there was a barbecue afterwards). So I ran the entire way, a first. Of course it's entirely possible that I didn't need to walk because I hadn't, in fact, biked. But still! I'll take what I can get.

5k time: 33:59 (10:54) (July 2008: 36:50 (11:53))

The barbecue was fantastic, although I don't think I'll ever get used to eating lunch at 9:30 a.m. So I had three donut holes and water, and headed ... straight to the bike store where I bought 50 tubes (OK, four), and spent the afternoon on my balcony changing my rear tire. Over and over. Til I could do it in my sleep! Sort of! I have yet to get the hang of the cartridge thing though.

Meanwhile, today, Sunday:
Running: Today was my "long run": 4 miles, no walking. I did it. In 43:33. I'm just going to add one mile a week to my long runs, try to do one day of speed work, in addition to two other runs of some length (tbd), and hope for the best.

Tonight is swim class, where we will be focusing on "Pulling /Acceleration / Sculling." I'm really interested in that middle thing.

And that, my friends, is that.

New Jersey State Triathlon Race Report: The View From the Back

There was a fatality yesterday. A 52-year triathlete, John Hobgood, died during the swim, and his body was not discovered until late Sunday night. It's horrifying and shocking and sad, and reading that news put things into stark perspective fast. My heart goes out to his family. I can't even begin to imagine what they are feeling.

I hope my little story will not sound too mundane in light of this tragedy.

We left our hotel at 5:15 to get to the race site by 5:30. Transition opened at 5:45.

Transition, just like LBTEPA and Jessie taught me.

Then there was some pump drama:
Pump. Drama.

There was also some number drama, when I realized that the volunteer had put my age on me instead of my race number. Thanks to whomever gave me the tip to bring markers. Then there was rack drama, and some drama with women around me not sharing space. I guess they missed the memo. The memo about being nice. Whatever! If triathlon teaches you nothing else, it teaches you to let things go. There's already enough things to worry about, you don't need to add more.

All my D.C. tri peeps were fantastic, walking around taking hundreds of pictures and checking each other's transition areas. It was so much fun, I hardly had time to get nervous.

Carolina, me, Casey, Sandy, Ryan, Bryan, Heather

The Bad News Bears

I had to leave my glasses in transition, so if I wanted to see anything, I had to put my prescription goggles on. Walking around in black spandex and goggles is a look, people, believe me.

There were about 210 D.C. Tri Club members competing, and we all walked down to the swim start to watch each other take off. It was awesome to have so many people you know surrounding you and encouraging you, cheering and trash talking.

I love this photo! L-R: Lindsey, me, Greg, Sandy, Bryan (photo courtesy Sandy C.)

The Swim:
My wave—females 50-59 and male and female first-timers any age— started around 8:45. I had been up and on my feet since 4 a.m. by the time I got in the water. Amazingly, I was not nervous. I knew I could do this. I'd swum 1,500 meters many times without stopping.

The water was nice and warm, and I just told myself this was just like swimming in the pool.

Err, not so much.

Right away I was off course, alone, and last. I tried to speed up, which was dumb, because all that did was leave me breathless. I tried like hell to be in the moment, one of several mantras for the day, but it was tough. Funny how this never happens in the pool! The volunteers in kayaks were so attentive—one even told me to get the water out of my goggles. They were that close. Plus they shouted encouragement. Just. Freaking. Awesome. The only way out was to keep breathing and put one arm in front of the other. With 800 meters left, I finally started swimming smooth and easy.

Swim: 46:42

I was slightly disappointed because I had done this distance—and longer— so many times. But whatcha gonna do??

Unlike Philly, there were no big strong people to help you look elegant getting out of the water. Lucky for me, NOD was there to document everything.

I am too standing up.

This is not your mother's triathlon. Wait! It actually IS your mother's triathlon.

Running uphill to transition.

T1: 4:35 Which was an AWESOME time! But it was mentally rough running into an empty transition area. I tried to just focus on racing my race. From my rack to the bike mount was about 125 yards. I ran as best I could in my cleats over tarmac and grass, uphill (again with the hills!), and finally got to the bike mount, where the kindly volunteer told me, "Don't worry, you have all the space you need to mount!" since there is no one else here!

Thanks!

How does this thing work again?

The Bike:
The bike was one long loop and one short loop that you did twice. I felt confident because I had put in the mileage and knew that I could do this. Many, many, many people blew by me and I started thinking that maybe I wasn't so far behind after all. But they were soon gone, and I was alone, which was just hard.

If only I had remembered!!

If only I had remembered what my friend Sandy told me this morning, as we were debriefing via e-mail:

You were definitely NOT alone out there. Even though you didn't see us until you came around the bend to the finish, we were all running right by your side the whole time....cheering you on in our hearts!!

When I read that? I started crying.

I still had fun on the bike. I tried to remember that I was in a race, despite all evidence to the contrary. Like say, competitors, for instance. It was pretty flat so no downhills to fly down, and conveniently? No uphills! We were sharing the road with traffic, and the cops were fantastic, holding back cars when they saw me. I felt like a rock star. I thanked every single one of them.

I also sang "Woodstock" (Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young) about 10,000 times in my head. I have no idea why.

Bike 39K: 1:32:53 (15 mph) I was pretty happy with my time. Exactly what I expected.

T2 3:45: Everyone was gone, which was all kinds of depressing. And the ladies who shared my rack had taken ALL the spaces, so I wasted time shoving bikes out of the way. So. Annoying. But Number One Daughter and BF were at every stage cheering me on and ringing the cowbell which brought a smile to my face.

T2 is a lonely place for the back o' the pack.

The Run:
Two out and backs. Out 1.5 shady miles and back PAST the finish, where I could hear people cheering finishers (oh the humanity!) and then out another 1.5 sunny and slightly hilly miles, and back. I started out feeling OK, not the usual legs-in-cement feeling. That was soon replaced by the death-march shuffle, though, so it all evened out. I saw a few people I knew on the course, which was nice, and managed to pass a few people. 21st C Mom had wisely suggested that I come up with a run strategy, so I set my watch for run 10 minutes, walk 1 minute. I also planned to walk all the water stops. I stuck to run 10, walk 1 for probably the first 5k.

First 5k. Stick a camera on me and I'll run every time.

NOD and BF were fantastic, cheering and telling me I was right on pace. Which I think I was at that point.

And then? It was all over.

Only it so wasn't all over!!

I was either being passed as I took walk breaks or passing as I started running. I didn't feel bad. Then again, I didn't feel so good! After about ten hours, I saw the 1/2 mile to go sign and I started running again, this time downhill. I could see the finish in the distance.

The Perfect Ending:
You know how time and distance seem to blur in a race? Well, I was dead certain that the finish was not the finish, that there was going to be some crazy-ass run around the park and not a straight shot into the chute. So certain, that I started walking again, figuring I still had a long way to go.

I was wrong. Someone yelled to me that the finish was right around the corner, and I looked up and saw a tidal wave of people rushing to the net calling "Go Jeanne!"

I could NOT believe it.

There were all my friends, cheering like maniacs—for ME!

Let me tell you: It's very hard to maintain the death-march shuffle with that kind of support, so I managed to kick it in to the most beautiful sound in the world. People cheering for ME.



I cried. I kissed Simon (sorry big guy!) I hugged everyone.

Me kissing Ironman Simon. Words I will not likely ever write again.

Run 10K: 1:27:01 (14:02 min miles)

How could ANYONE be disappointed with friends like that?!

To quote from the final scene of "It's a Wonderful Life,"

Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.

Not to wax hyperbolic (as if!), but it was like V-E Day, V-J Day, Christmas, New Year's and the happiest day of my life.

But it took me from the this morning until 11:37 p.m. to realize that.

Final time: 3:54:54

After much hugging and crying and kissing everyone packed up and left. We were all a little sad because this race was the end of the New Triathlete Program—as one person said, "the most fun I've had as a grown up." The masseuses were gone and so was the food, so the kidz and I loaded up the car, I did a little striptease in the parking lot and we headed to WaWa (the "7-11 of Whole Foods"--Lindsey), where I forced myself to eat a soft pretzel and chocolate milk. I had only had oatmeal, three Gus and Gatorade all day long. (And God only knows how I managed it, but I gained 4 lbs from that regimen. Sigh.)

Then I drove five hours through a hurricane back to D.C.

I thought I'd feel like death on a cracker today, but aside from being a little tired, I feel fine!

And I'm pretty sure that I want to try that again!

Epicness!

It's taken me several days to calm down sufficiently from Saturday, when my tri club traveled to Lake Anna, Spotsylvania, Virginia, (it's way prettier than it sounds) to do a swim/ride (a SRICK?).

The 2,300-acre park, with its 8.5 miles of shoreline on the clear waters of the lake...The Lake Anna area is a Civil War history buff’s dream vacation.

Beautiful Lake Anna

I prepared for this trip like I was going to war:
Number One Daughter helped me write a list and then taped it to the front door. Imagine the list for the real tri.

It was another sunny clear hot muggy hot sunny hot day. We started with an open water swim clinic, led by the stellar Debi Bernardes who gave us a million tips like how to sight while swimming and how you should wear your goggles under your swim cap so you don't lose them when you get kicked in the face and a few other things I've forgotten.

NTP-ers listen raptly, while sweating profusely.

My friend L., who has a thing about food.

Most people did not wear wetsuits because the water was 80F and there was no need. But frankly, I've never met a wetsuit I didn't like. I chose a sleeveless model this time, because they are more fashion-forward, and well, because it was my last open water practice before the Philly Sprint—my first triathlon ever—this coming Saturday, and I wanted to simulate the day as much as possible.
This is the way you do this.

We practiced swimming in groups, and sighting. Both of which? I pretty much suck at. Here's how I "race" the swim: I notice someone is near me. I stop, tread water, and think, "Oh, you're swimming near me? How about I stop and let you go by, because I don't want to get in your way." So my swim on Saturday should be really interesting, when the wave behind mine is Men 25-29. Cuz if I do any stopping, I'm gonna be crushed like a bug.

Not that I'm worried.

Back to last Saturday: So we swam around some buoys a few times and then it was time to saddle up!

There were about 50 of us new triathletes, and for some reason, it took me forever to get out of the wetsuit, into shoes and socks and sunscreen and helmet and pump up the tires and get the gloves on and make sure I had enough gu in the little pocket thing that sticks up on the crossbar of the bike (but first I had to put the little pocket thing ON the bike) and two bottles of gatorade, and the map, don't forget the map! Next thing I knew, everyone was heading out of the park.

A little 26-mile ride. My longest ride yet. Through what I thought would be the well-protected roads and paths of Lake Anna State Park.

I spent the first 20 minutes trying to catch someone, anyone, and then? I gave up. Lucky for me, a most lovely Ironman and a half Ironman (girl? woman? person?) were riding sweep. For a few miles I had a few other people in sight, and even caught them a few times (OK, once when one got a flat). But mostly it was just me myself and I, trying hard not to panic.

Why was I panicking, you ask? Cuz I was on roads. With cars. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, 18-wheelers. And hills. Hills that went screaming down down down (someone was screaming anyway. I think it was me) and then up up up. If I were my own mother? I would have been terrified for me. Come to think of it, I was terrified for me!

If I wasn't worried about going downhill arse over elbow I was worried about going uphill and falling sideways. However, I am pleased to say I made it intact, never had to walk, despite the driver of the 18-wheeler who decided to try to edge me off the road—Me! I am probably his mother's age!!—and for good measure blew his horn to make certain my heart completely stopped. Which it did. There may have been more screaming here.

I gave him a very special wave.

Somewhere around here I remembered why I hate amusement parks: the rollercoasters, to which I am equally attracted and repelled.

And then I remembered why I love riding: Because it reminds me of my misspent childhood, on my bike on a hot summer day roaring down the middle of the 9-house street I lived on—Carbonella Drive in Hamden, Connecticut.

And then I remembered all the falling off the bike.

Sigh.

It was hot. And long. Eventually the sweepers swept up to me, and even though I was embarrassed to be last, I was grateful to have them to ride with. Mr. Ironman noticed I'd gone through both bottles of Gatorade, and just like that he stepped up and saved my life. He handed me his bottle! Another sweeper, Mr. T., had to tell me to eat another gu. Apparently, I was saving my 2nd one for an emergency of some sort.

So I'm pretty sure I was suffering from a bit of too much heat. We ended up riding for 30 miles, in 2 hours and 20 minutes (listen, that's epic in my world) and when I FINALLY got back to the parking lot, I peeled myself off the bike, grabbed clothes to change into, walked into the ladies room, took off every stitch and tried not to pass out. I don't know how long I was in there but it was a long time. When I came out I stretched out on the grass until my friend S. came by and pulled me up and stuck my head under a water fountain, which has to be what heaven feels like.

And then? D.C. Tri did what it does best.


After a long-ass car ride in stop-and-go traffic for two hours, I finally made it home.

And then took a look at this:
It's not easy to get an effect like this, ya gotta admit.

I ended the day watching the restored version of "Rear Window" at the American Film Institute (stop what you are doing and go see it right this minute).

And then I slept the sleep of the dead.

On the agenda for the rest of the week: Worry about Saturday. I'm happy to report I've got that well in hand. (Rumor has it that two other bloggy friends will be doing the Oly distance on Sunday. There is vague talk of a bloggy meet-up.)

All in all, 'twas a day to remember.

Joy Vs. Sloth

My two close buddies. Who's winning?

Saturday morning was pure joy. It was spectacular, despite the fact that the humidity was 120% and the heat index near 100F.

It was brick time at Haine's Point with my new triathlete peeps. On the agenda: Bike: 1 hour 30 minutes, run 15 minutes.

As I was driving to the Point at 7:30, I saw all the marathon running groups out—and the runners already all looked like death on a stick. I seriously hoped that they'd been out running since 6 a.m., and not, like since 7:15.

I rode with J and she taught me about 50 different things about biking and triathlons. Like how to keep my cadence up (or down) and how to turn corners (inside knee up and out), how to shift and when, and how to turn the pedals (seriously--you use a "scraping" motion toward the bottom of the circle. Who knew?)

Despite the fact that the humidity that was so thick you couldn't see the Potomac River 50 feet away through it, it was heaven.

Cuz on the bike? You make your own breeze! Plus? You're sitting down! It's all good!

I attended a nutrition clinic put on by the club on Thursday night, and I don't remember everything but I DO remember the nutritionist saying 24 oz of fluid every hour. (Can that be right?) Whatever. I went to the bike store Friday night and bought a second water bottle cage, like all the Big Kids have, and in a fit of superior bike mechanic skills, attached it myself. Right. Side. Up.

Go me.

So we did 21.6 miles (almost a marathon!) in 1 1/2 hours. And then there was the run, which was sucky, but only lasted 15 minutes. Just call me Jeanne "I can do anything for 15 minutes" McCann.

This was the joy part. I look forward to Saturday mornings all week long (even as I continue to make myself sick with anxiety each Friday night. Some things never change). I get to hang with a terrific group of people, and pretend to talk smack. (Look! I'm already someone's 'inspirational nemesis'. Ha ha. Watch your back, buddy.)

I meet someone new every week and they are unfailingly the most fun, encouraging bunch I have ever met. I get to talk tri stuff ad nauseum with people who don't roll their eyes.

I get to leave work and worries far far behind.

It's joy. Pure and simple!

I remember Saturdays when I was marathon training. I would come home after a three- hour run and would be seriously useless for the rest of the day. If not the weekend. But this training doesn't physically render me useless. In fact, I felt pretty damn good after I got home and downed some chocolate milk for my recovery drink.

Until I remembered that a) I don't drink milk, and b) I'm off sugar!

Sigh.

I spent the rest of Saturday in a veritable orgy of sloth, (and I'm blaming the chocolate milk), on the couch, where I watched every single episode of...wait for it...

MAN VS. WILD!

From which show I learned how to eat spiders and slugs, build a fire with a flint, scale a flat rock face by stovepiping, avoid a flash flood, tell the difference between freshwater and saltwater crocodiles, when and whether to drink your own pee...need I go on?

The premise of the show is that the host, Bear Grylls (could that possibly be his real name?), international man of mystery, gets dropped in all sorts of inhospitable places, like say, the Australian outback (not the restaurant) and then has to survive using only his wits. This is supposed to help YOU, the viewer, just in case you ever find yourself stuck in the Australian outback during the dry season out of water. And food. And you don't happen to have a film crew with you.

A little more about the Bear:

In June 2005, Bear broke a world record by hosting a dinner party at a table suspended below a hot air balloon at 24,500 feet. He rappelled from the balloon's basket to the table, where in full naval uniform he ate a three-course meal before saluting the queen and skydiving to earth. His goal was to support the work of two charities: the Prince's Trust and the Duke of Edinburgh's Award.

(Dude, write a check next time!)

It's oddly...addictive.

So, no joke, I watched it all day. Except for when I took a break to ... NAP. Then I woke up and watched some more.

Finally I went to bed.

Tally:
Joy 20%
Sloth 80%

Bear, I'm sorry to break it to you, but I might have to revisit how we spend our time together.

So Much Fun It Should Be Illegal

How come no one ever told me how much FUN triathlons are? HOW COME? I want answers.

D.C. Tri held a "brick-nic" today, at Centennial Park in Columbia, Maryland.




What's a brick, you ask? (Remember, there are No Dumb Questions.)

What's a "brick" and why is it named so?

* Bike-Run-ICK!
* That's how your legs feel for the first part of the run.
* Named by Mark Sisson and Scott Zagarino one day in 1988 after they completed a Bike-Run workout -- "Just another brick in the wall".

The "nic" part--well, that's from picNIC. Get it?

The regular part of the club was there, riding and running the course in preparation for the upcoming Columbia Triathlon . The new triathletes were riding the Irongirl course, with a 10-minute run afterwards. A brick.

I have to admit I did NOT want to go. I even called Number One Daughter (OK, R, we'll rename her D¹), to whine about it. I hadn't signed up for it, I was nervous about it (It was Far Away! There were Serious Triathletes there! People I don't know!) and she told me to HTFU and go and do it.

So I did.

I carefully printed out the "cue" sheet (Why is it called that? I have no idea. It's also known as a "map" or "route") and then after feeling very smug for having printed it out, whereas some Other People Did Not, I promptly left it in the portapotty at the meet-up site.

Which wouldn't matter so much if I was going to be say, riding with Other People. And not 100 miles behind.

After much hemming and hawing about "Do I wear the jacket...or not? Will I get hot? But what if it rains. Then I'll be cold," everyone got sick of hearing me and we all left.

We were on some major roads with some major traffic and an itty-bitty shoulder.

I took this while driving the course afterwards. I'm not crazy enough to take pictures while riding! Only while driving.




I felt good and confident. Right up until I reached for the map in my 27 pockets and could find it nowhere.

Sh**!!!!

That got my heart rate up. Especially because one of the tri-club peeps had said about 100 times before we left, "You will get lost without this map."

Somehow I kept catching people at red lights, or whose bikes had broken, or whatever, and got enough directions to keep me on the right path.

Just for the record, I'd like to state that I have NEVER RIDDEN HILLS before. Or run them. Or even seen them. The course was rolling, long, rolling, looooong endless hills. Like this:
Again, afterwards, in the car.

And this:
This was called something like Mount Kill Me Now Road

Which is where I dropped the chain, or it dropped me. Whatever. It fell off is what happened. Luckily, there was another slow-ish woman in front of me, riding with her AWESOME triathlete brother. I yelled (or cried) and this fellow came back and got my chain back on.

I was instantly smitten.

But that was nothing.

John and his sister Barbara took off up the hill and I soldiered on. Only I noticed a high-pitched whining noise, that got faster as I got faster. It was ANNOYING, and it was coming from my bike.

When I got here:
You don't see THAT in Bethesda!

I caught up with them and said "Do you hear something?" as I passed by. Um yeah. They did.

They both stopped and John pretty much took my bike apart. The bike wheel was misaligned or something.

It was VERY interesting:
You seeing what I 'm seeing?

And that's how John SAVED MY LIFE.

Soon it was time to turnaround. I cut my ride short by 3 miles so that I wouldn't keep people waiting.

14.5 miles in 1:30, a whopping 9.67 miles / hour.

It. Was. Awesome.

It was the most fun thing I've ever done in my life.

And the run? Was. Cake.

Cake!!!

Not the usual I-can't-feel-my-legs thing.

And then we had a big picnic, and the next time I get married, I'm doing it in the middle of a triathlon.

A bike store exploded.

A gear store exploded.

L-R, New friends, Lindsey and Sandy, and moi.

The whole group.

And to top off this very long tale, when I got home I discovered a check for $600 in my mailbox, something about an "escrow overpayment."

Now if I were smart and clever, I would totally put that money in my teensy little savings account.

Or if I were smart and clever and spoke Latin, maybe I would say carpe diem, I gotta buy me a lighter bike.

It Was Only a Matter of Time

Before I got in over my head.

Like literally.

Over. My. Head.

Treading water.

Up the creek without a paddle.

My tri club advertised an OWS clinic (I know, I had no idea either. It means "Open Water Swim"), on May 24, because apparently it's a really good idea to have SOME SWIMMING experience in open water before you know, like actually going and jumping into open water, like say, in the Schuylkill River, for your first triathlon, just for example.

So, I noticed late last night, after going out on a school night (to see Mongol D.C. Filmfest), that the deadline for the May 24 Open Water Swim Clinic was May 1. That would be today.

I panicked. I followed the links. Clicked on this and that. Next thing I knew I had spent $75 and was signed up for ...

a ONE-MILE OPEN WATER RACE.

But did I notice that then? Noooooooooooooooooooo. Toddled off to bed.

This morning, however, as I was swimming my 1000 meters, I started thinking. How far is one mile? It's far. Like...waaaay far. And then I thought about how I hadn't seen anything about a CLINIC when I signed up last night. No, all I saw was something about a race. And it was on the 25th, not the 24th. And it cost $75, not the $30 that the D.C. Tri site had said.

Is it possible that I had MADE A MISTAKE???

After I got to work, I e-mailed my little friend to try to get a handle on the situation:

From jeanne mccann to alejandra:
Reply:
sorry. i was on a conf call and im'ing and doing 20 thngs at once!

guess what. i just BY MISTAKE signed up for a 1 mile swim. race.
instead of an ows CLINIC.

effing idiot.

and the compassionate response I got?

From alejandra to me:
Reply:
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahhahaha

ha.

HA.

HAHAHAHA.

you might as well sign up for a half-ironman then. 1.2 is all you have to swim!!!!

OK, now she had me just a little bit worried:

Jeanne mccann to alejandra
Reply:
[expletive deleted]
should i get out of it?
i can swim 1100 meters really slowly. 35 min. how far is a mile?
so, i could do it maybe in an hour?
with lots of breaks? Tell it to me straight.

And straight she gave it to me:

alejandra to me
Reply:
um.
um.

the thing is...

you're swimming 3:10/100meters.

thats s-l-o-w.

just being honest here...
no. you don't need to do this. nor really probably SHOULD you. a mile is a long way. you're not ready.

Coming from someone who is always standing by, ready to tell me to get my ass in gear and just do it, I kinda took her word for it.

So I wrote to the race director and explained that I'm an idiot and despite the GIANT WARNINGS all over the signup that there are no refunds, I asked for a refund, or at least a chance to get into the OWS clinic, which deadline of course I had missed as I was busy signing up for the "Intro to Half Ironman Swim."

Sigh.

(Stay tuned, the personal shopper exposé is still on! It is SO ON.)

National Half Marathon Race Report

...And then, from seemingly out of nowhere, I summoned up the strength and speed my training had been lacking all winter, to cruise through the finisher's chute in 2:20, a PR!!!

Ha ha, I got you, didn't I.

Well, the National Half Marathon is this coming Saturday, and I'm not feeling it. I'm extremely pretending that it's no big deal, that I'm not going to mind IN THE LEAST if I finish in 3 hours, that it's a training run (for what, I don't know), that my damn PF isn't actually getting worse, blah blah, etc.

Saturday was our last "group" training run. Such a pity that I started out so young and full of dreams!

Over the course of the past few months, our group (the so-called "slow" group, not that my peeps know the meaning of the word) dwindled to a total of four: our coach, two young chicks, and me. The two other chicks ran their half, the Virginia Beach Shamrock, two weeks ago. Since January, I have been gradually falling behind, slowly but surely (get it???) each week.

Saturday we were scheduled for six miles, but the two chicks who had ALREADY run their half marathons opted for 10, and I had to agree that it surely couldn't hurt me. So off we went, and as usual, I started in the middle, K and E behind me running together, and Coach in the not-too-far-ahead distance.

And as usual, around mile 3, the chicks passed me, we ran even for a while, and then, they became as tiny little dots in the distance. And then? I stopped caring about my 10-miler half-way through it. I started walking. Stretching. Talking smack to myself. You know. The USUAL. Ten miles in 2:16. I must have been going backwards for part of that.

Sunday was better. Sunday was Easter! And to make up for Saturday's misery, I dragged Number One Daughter on our annual Easter Hike on the Billy Goat Trail,


a rocky, strenuous, and somewhat treacherous hike (especially if you are carrying a NEWBORN baby on your back, like the guy in front of me was....arghhhh!)

Another guy was in shiny, tasseled loafers. No really. You would not believe what people wear to hike this trail. High heels.

We had fun.

But I still had to feed the TRI-beast. So NOD dropped me off at work, and I did my second-ever mini-brick: I rode 10 miles in 50 minutes (note to self: Self? You feel the wind a LOT more when riding. Hence, you get COLDER than when you are running. See note above about appropriate dress), froze my ASS off, and then did a 10:30 min/mile.

I will never get over what it feels like to get off a bike and then run. NEVER. Just picture yourself running with your feet in concrete. It's so funny, I think I actually laughed out loud. While trying to run. Two things that don't generally occur together in nature.

Biking is so much more fun than running. I'm sorry to say it, my running peeps, but it is. Even given the fact that after a short ride, certain, err, parts of my anatomy are, um ... not feeling so good. Good thing I've already got that daughter of mine!

In summation, for those of you following along at home:
Saturday: 10-mile crappy run;
Sunday: 2-mile hardcore hike, followed by 10-mile bike, followed by 10:30 mile run, followed by grocery shopping, followed by lasagna-making (the way my Italian father made it, with meat, AND hard-boiled eggs) in honor of NOD, even though meat is gross and I'm not doing her any favors by feeding it to her.

And that's a wrap.

Back Away From the Low-Fat, Vegan Chocolate Mousse

Brought to you by Whole Foods.

This concoction quite obviously is laced with some illegal, addicting substance. For the record, I am vowing here and now, in front of God and everyone, NEVER TO BUY THIS STUFF AGAIN, because I can't be anywhere in the vicinity of it without scarfing it down like it was my last meal before I headed for the chair.




It's THAT GOOD.

This just proves once again (as if there were any doubt) that you can be just as unhealthy being vegetarian as you can be by not being vegetarian.

Other fun stuff that is happening:

I went to my first official tri orientation on Saturday. And I have a tri-mentor! Who finished Ironman Wisconsin last fall. I haven't met her, but she has already sent me a 10-page e-mail trying to answer all my questions (lotsa luck).

I learned a few things at the tri orientation.

For instance: Did you know that you DON'T WEAR A BATHING SUIT during the triathlon swim? Because if you did? You'd be changing out of it, as in BUTT NAKED, outside, into some kind of bike riding get-up, in front of a whole lotta people.

Who knew?

I don't really understand the whole tri-apparel thing. It's very mysterious.

Also, I don't yet know how to change a flat tire, which makes me wary of going out for any kind of longish ride (long being more than 10 miles, don't laugh). I asked at one local bike shop if they'd teach me how, and they said sure, for $50. Bastards.

My "official" tri training starts March 10, which is a shame, because I'll be in AUSTIN, Texas, from March 7-12, attending this for work. I may be doing a bit of reporting, so I need to bring a video camera, a digital recorder, digital camera, and a laptop.

After I get out of prison for trying to bring all of that on a plane, I'll need to get a 13-mile run in, which means I need to bring all my running crap. Plus all my swim crap, cuz I'm going to take a wild guess that there just might possibly be a pool somewhere in Austin?

Texas is like a foreign country to me. Do I need a passport? (E-mail me at jeanne.notborntorun AT gmail.com if you live in Austin!)

And I'm having a major what-to-wear freak out. The dress code is hipster-geek, (a term approved by the Wall Street Journal, no less). Plus, it's 90F there, and, I don't know about your summer clothes, but I have no idea what I wore last summer, because apparently I got rid of everything I owned.

That's all I've got people. Kudos, condolences; both accepted.

Ride, Sally, Ride

REGISTRATION IS CLOSED

The New Triathles Program (NTP) 2008 closed in a record 35 minutes! To those that we were unable to register, we apologize and hope that you intend to become active in the general membership of DC Tri. We have countless opportunities to help you get through your first triathlon and hope that you will still plan to register for the NJ State Triathlon and join us as we go for our fourth consecutive USAT Mid-Atlantic Club Championship!

February 1, Friday morning, 8:50 a.m.: I should have been ensconced in a training room deep in the bowels of the Washington Hilton Hotel, learning all the ins-and-outs of Day Two of Project Management. Instead, I sat in my office, fingers hovering over the keyboard, waiting for NTP to open. As the clock ticked toward 9:00 a.m., I loaded and reloaded the page, not wanting to miss my opportunity (which, as you know, only knocks once). The minute I saw the NTP Program on the sign-up page, I pounced, filled out all the info...and MADE IT IN!

(I didn't miss anything at the PM class btw. In fact, I made it there by 9:05. Just in case anyone is wondering.)

But the point is: I'm IN!

So today, Sunday, the day after Saturday, the day of my long run, in which I manage to get increasingly slower week after week (yesterday--10 miles, 1:54), after having eaten three donuts at church, coming home to my disheveled apartment, and trying to decide between cleaning up, buying groceries or doing the laundry, I looked out the window at a beautiful sunny sky with 55F, and instead decided to check out the warm-up plan (that's the plan you follow for the month before you start the actual triathlon plan) and discovered today was 50 minutes on the bike, followed by a 10-minute run.

Pfft! A 10-minute run! You're making me laugh!

So I flung myself and some gear into the car to drive to work, because that's where the bike, and come to think of it, the trail, are.

Twenty minutes later I was riding mustang sally. For 50 minutes. I'm sure I've got every part of that bike set at some weird angle, since my knee hurt and my back was killing me. Anyway, I did 9 miles in 50 minutes, so that's what I like about the bike. When's the last time you heard me say I did NINE MILES IN 50 MINUTES??

I was sailing past all those runners. Ha! Until I had to turn around and realized, for the millionth time, that this trail is DOWNHILL ONE WAY. Which means: UPHILL THE OTHER WAY.

My favorite part was going up the River Road bridge, and flying down the other side, where there were some walkers coming towards me. Ambling. On my side of the trail. One was a kid of about 17, holding a coffee cup, staring straight at me. Since he was staring at me, I made the foolish mistake of thinking that he SAW ME. No movement on his part reflected that any such impression had indeed been made. So I did what anyone would do. I screamed, "Moooooooooove!!!" at the top of my voice.

That worked.

I made it back to work, parked the bike and headed back up to the trail for a 10-minute run.

Holy freakin' hell.

Who invented this?? I'd heard about "wobbly legs" off the bike, etc., but geeeze! Imagine running with giant cement blocks on your feet instead of running shoes. That's what hopping off a bike and trying to run feels like. Kids riding Big Wheels were passing me. Old ladies with walkers and oxygen tanks. You get the picture.

I managed one mile in 10:17, but all I can say is: I'm really gonna give new meaning to the word "SPRINT" on June 21.