This weekend we did the Omaha Triathlon. Last year was my really big deal and the inaugural Omaha Tri. That was my first and only Olympic Distance (Swim: 1 mile, Bike 26.2 miles, run 6.2 miles) because that's all they offered. I only signed up this year because they offered a Sprint Distance (Swim: 1/2 mile, Bike 12.4 miles, run 3.1 miles). Still, it was hyped up, there was a fancy finish line and mandatory meetings and practice swims - so if it wasn't a big deal, it still felt like it. It really felt like I was some kind of pro when I found myself waking up at 3:30 a.m. to get there when the transition area opened at 4:30 a.m. for a 6 a.m. start time.
The sure fire way to tell you're a triathlete, is when you start seeing the same people show up. Our girl Kathy and she moved away. She claims her husband got a promotion, but I think we know what really happened - she caught on to us riding with her so we could look cool at triathlons. Since she won it last year, she was invited back. It was such a great feeling to see her! Kathy, you're our hero, no matter what! We're also starting to develop quite the Omaha Mommy Triathlete posse. Our pal, Cricksta drove in for it, and brought her son to do the Kids Tri. Which, he might have had one of the best all-time finishes I've ever seen. We also made some new friends who were first-timers in doing this triathlon. The look of shock and doubt on their faces before the race, and the look of accomplishment and confidence after was so fun to see. I'm so happy for my new pals! Y'all are my new pals, right?
Okay, back to my very cool triathlon story -
I got there early and started getting my transition area ready in the dark, noting other triathletes- and by other, I mean the ones with chiseled chests and fancy bike- had head lamps on, organizing their transitions with precision. I'm sure had I owned a headlamp, I would have cut my race time in half. Or at least the transition times. Uh, maybe not. Still, I'm feeling pretty stellar that I got all my stuff organized correctly in the dark.
Julz(HOLLA!) and I were really excited for this race because it was our big hyped up local tri, but without the anxiety of an Olympic Distance. We were also coming off an inspirational high that our kids just did the Omaha Kids Triathlon the day before. They were so focused and rocked it out. I love to see them cross the finish line. I love that they now know what we go through, and why we do it...for the free t-shirt.
And here is a note on how to make friends at port-a-potties - I always bring wet wipes with me. Nothing says Tri Mom like rolling up in your minivan, and showing up with wet wipes. But when you roll up to a port-a-potty at a triathlon, everyone's in line for the same thing...that uh, morning uh, throne sitting, and you're the only one with wet wipes. It's kinda a luxury item in the tri bag. So, I always announce that I will share. And that is how to make friends at 5 a.m. at a port-a-potty. I'm giving like that. Then I leave the package of wipes in the stall for those too weak to speak out about their morning ritual. You're welcome, y'all.
The swim was fantastic. I swam way outside and probably added a minute or two on my time, but saved getting kicked in the face, so that's nice. It's my token move - whatever it takes to avoid confrontation. I'd seek therapy for it, but I'm pretty sure it's the smarter move to avoid confrontation in the middle of a lake with 300 other flailing competitors. I'm just sayin. The water was a great temperature and all was right with the world.
The two chumps who set up this course are on my poop list for several reasons - some of which I'm still irked about from the Women's Tri - but here's my uh, concern for this particular tri - everything is uphill. The run from swim to the transition area is up a steep hill, I'm already sucking air, and I'm barefoot bouncing around in my swim suit. Thanks guys. The same steep hill leads to the finish line. You go to sprint to the finish, but start falling backwards. What's up with that?
I get up there, get through my T1 (that's transition one), and get out on the bike course. I'm pretty sure something's wrong with my bike, because I feel like my legs are on fire, I'm pushing as hard as I can to go, and I'm getting passed like I'm a parked car. What's up with this bike? But it turns out it's just me out of shape. Nice. I did have my gears off a bit, so I figured that out, and went on my merry way. The bike is my weakest leg of the race. That, and I have a slice of humble pie when I have about 50 minutes to think about how out of shape I really am and how I probably should stop going to spin classes and ride my bike up actual hills a bit more. Probably a good idea.
I get to the turn around and am pleasantly surprised that I'm halfway there sooner than I thought! Yay!
After the turnaround, I see a guy walking his bike going out on the course that I'm coming in from. I'm going slow enough to assess this guy is in the front of the pack of the Olympic Distance. I do this by noting his svelt body, his pro tri suit, and his very fancy silver aerodynamic (pointy in the back) cycling helmet. "You got a flat?" Which really, that reads poorly, but when out of breath and in the middle of a triathlon, I claim the right to speak grammatically incorrect, yet effective in communication.
"Yeah" He said and then I kept going and left him. Hahahahha! Well, hold on...I'll redeem myself.
What he doesn't know is this average athlete is about to help him out. I have a phone in my little bike bag. Most triathletes have some kind of quick flat tire changer in their bike bag - or no bike bag to weigh down their uber light titanium $10,000 bike. Not me. You know how I change a flat? I make friends with the mobile bike unit guy and get his number. I grab my phone out of my bike bag and call the coolest bike guy. He's cool because he gave me his number. I've had it for over a year, and this is the first time I get to use it. I hope he gave me the right number. Let's test this out. "Hey...It's LESLIE!!! HAHAHAHAH! No, no, I'm fine, but there's a guy at mile 14 with a flat. Looks like he's a pretty good contender, might wanna help him out."
Yeah, I'm pretty awesome. I called for help while clipped in and "racing" (read that last word while using your own quote fingers. It's okay.) So see, us professional average pudgy triathletes are loud and obnoxious and have the audacity to encourage you when you fly by us. You know who we are. You're generous with us when you don't pummel us over while passing. We try to stay out of your way. But today, we shared a moment on the course. I'm sure my efforts helped the guy back on track to win the race. I'm going to go ahead and claim that because I didn't get his bib number, and pretty much, with those helmets on, I think it's safe to say that yes, all triathletes look alike. So I can't check. I'll just go ahead and assume I helped some guy win it all.
I head back into the park to finish the bike, and what is this? Another uphill finish. Hey fellas, for photography's sake, and for the sake of my kids watching me bring this bitch of a ride in, how about you find a better more downhill return to transition? How about you put transition at the bottom of the hill next year? Heck, even at a flat would be great. Geez.
My T2 (uh, Transition two) is faster because I have cool accessories like zip ties on my shoes. I switch out shoes, take a swig of water, exchange helmet for running visor and go. And there's the jello legs. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. I will give the race coordinators a little nudge here, the run out of transition IS down hill. Then it's uphill again. I hear my name from two fellow tri pals. They opted to not do this race. I'd ask why, but I'm going uphill, can't breathe, and I think I've figured out they knew better than to sign up for this course. It's HARD! Still, the fact that Heather and Barb showed up at 6 a.m. to cheer on fellow triathlon pals, says a lot. I really should do that some time.
I wave, thank them, and turn toward the course and there's an off road hill that is so steep, it looks like it could use a safety rail. It's probably one of Omaha's premiere sledding slopes, and I'm climbing up it with my kids watching. As soon as I get out of sight, I walk about a minute to let my lungs and quads catch up with the rest of me. There's a couple of other steep hills that are sooo steep...."How steep are they?"...that it's dangerous for me to even go down hill at this point. And again, although I pleasantly find myself at the turnaround sooner than I'd remembered from last year. Granted, last year, I ran walked double the distance, so duh, of course the turnaround is closer! And on my way back to finish this entire crazy triathlon, I was reminded of why this particular triathlon is such a big deal - it's a really tough course. I'm talking really tough. Yes, I'm out of shape, and have taken my training for granted and become complacent. Sure, all of that. But also, just ask one of those elite triathletes who breezed by me today, they'll even tell ya, it's one of the toughest courses of their season. It's uphill on the bike and run, the entire way. (How do they do that anyway?) If possible, I'm certain that swim was uphill as well. I'm looking into it. So, hi-fives to me, for not only doing it, but meeting my goal of under two hours - I came in at 1 hour and 50 minutes.
I am so proud of Julianne who sprinted up that hill to the finish and had a great time as well. Every finish with JulzHOLLA!, every hug at the finish line, crushes every doubt as to why we do this: for the glory. And for the t-shirts of course.
That's how I roll.
Song of the day: Good Life by One Republic
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