It's quite difficult for me to pass up a good deal. I love all the new daily deal websites - Groupon, LivingSocial, Schwaggle, etc. So when I got the email on Thursday, 7/7 offering a 50% discount for the San Francisco Triathlon at Treasure Island Sprint that Sunday, I had to look. After realizing what I had gotten myself into for Golden Gate, I kept wishing I had signed up for Treasure Island instead. It was a sheltered swim and a pancake flat course for the bike and run. It would have been ideal for my first race after my knee injury (though now that it's done, I'm very happy I took on the challenge of the Golden Gate course). While it wasn't in my race schedule, the thought of getting another race under my belt at such a good price was tempting. I knew I could do it, and I thought I could even do pretty well, so after a few minutes of debate, I purchased my bib.
One of the best things about signing up for a race 3 days before it happens is that I cut at least a week out of my freak out stage. I went and picked up my race packet later that day, got a few final supplies, and felt really ready. On Friday, I was getting a little nervous. I had already planned a wine tasting trip to Napa for that Saturday, which would potentially pose a problem. I went, and had a great time, but really monitored my drinking and kept it to a minimum (which was sad because the pours were generous). Saturday night was the only stressful time. I'm pretty sure I should spend the night before a race at a hotel so as no to use my boyfriend as an outlet...
Matthew had to work on Sunday and I didn't expect him to get the day off to watch me race since I signed up 3 days beforehand. His mom, Alison, however, volunteered to come along as my support. I didn't think I needed it, but I was so happy she was there. Packed and ready, we made our way to Treasure Island before sunrise. I had seen the course on my way across the Bay Bridge the day before, so I felt like i knew what I was getting myself into. I felt pretty comfortable setting up transition and getting ready. Races I had been to before usually wanted to have everyone set up and out of transition when the race started, which was about 40 minutes before my wave start. I later found this was not the case, and wish I had known that.
Standing in the early morning chill, my wetsuit did little to keep me from shivering after 10 minutes or so. And I can now say I officially hate watching the waves before me go. I had never seen someone get pulled out of the water at a race before. I swear they pulled at least two people out of the water in each wave before me. I was shocked. Suddenly, this short, sheltered swim was creating a feeling of dread in my stomach. Watching the first wave, there were two swimmers being left behind. I realized the parents of one, a 12-year old named Tom, were standing next to me. This was his first triathlon, and he was not a good swimmer. Slow and somewhat awkward, Tom continued to swim as the wave behind him began to overtake and pass him. When the support crew pulled the other boy out of the water and brought him in, I heard his mother say, "He's not going to give up. He's too stubborn to stop." And she was right. As Tom came around the second buoy and turned toward shore, we gave up all concern of him finishing and began cheering him on. The pace of his bobbing breast stroke never picked up, there was no rush to finish a little faster. His goal was just to get the shore, get out of the water, and get on his bike. And he did.
With the distraction of Tom now gone, the cold began creeping into my bones. My feet were starting to go a little numb, and I was honestly looking forward to getting in to the water in hopes of warming up and getting my blood moving. This was my first deep water start, and I was having a hard time figuring out what my best start position would be. I generally hang by the back and let the other women hit the water first before choosing my line. Starting in the water, it seemed there wasn't really a way to avoid getting caught up in the pack. I never felt completely comfortable on this swim. I was struggling with my stroke and was having a hard time getting good breaths, so I was breathing almost every stroke. I had a swim buddy, which is definitely a moral booster when you think your doing poorly. I finally hit the stairs and was thrilled to be getting out of the water and onto my bike.
The course was very flat with a lot of turns, and not the best road conditions. But is was a 3-lap course, which I learned I really liked. Lap 1, get moving and see what the course has to offer. Lap 2, drop the hammer. Push it hard and make up some time. Lap 3, keep it up. My run is so bad, the last thing I'm worrying about on the bike is saving my legs. I need to get as far ahead as possible. We had a good amount of wind, but I still felt pretty good coming off the bike (later learned I finished 2nd in my age group on the bike - hell yea!).
The run was, well, the run. I felt great as I cross the line, though I got passed by 2 people in the chute. It's hard to feel so good on the bike and pass over half the field, just to watch them fly by me on the run course. But I tried, and I learned. And it was over. And a quick calculation from the finishing clock had me finishing almost 10 minutes ahead of my last flat sprint course in Santa Cruz. Feeling pretty great, we packed up and headed home. Which is where my post-race high ended. Though there were some struggles, I felt pretty good about my race. I even felt like I had been pretty competitive (a term I would never have used about me and triathlons before that day, my goal had always been to just finish). Then I looked up my results online...
I'm used to coming out right near the middle of the pack (hoping for a little above the middle). My results had me in at 14th out of 22 in my age group. Not bad, but it was my swim time that had me reeling. My last swim along Chrissy field (no shelter, a lot of strong currents and twice the distance) had taken me only a minute longer than this swim. How was that possible? I didn't feel great in the water, but not that bad. I never fell behind, I honestly thought I finished closer to the front. I just couldn't make sense of how I could have fallen apart that much. Where I thought I had set a PR by about 10 minutes, I had actually missed my old time by 13 seconds. I'm not going to lie, I was devastated. I tried to not let it get to me, but I just couldn't let it go.
The more I thought about it, the more it bugged me. After thinking through a few details that weren't adding up, I took a deep breath and emailed the timing company. It was hard to do, and I felt like a whining brat when I wrote the email. I just wanted to check and see if it was even possible there could have been an error. When they responded with a confirmation that my start time had been listed as the wave before mine, meaning both my swim and total time had an extra 10 minutes in them, the word relief cannot begin to describe how I felt. 10 minutes is HUGE. I moved up from 14th to 9th overall. I had done what I set out to do. I got another race under my belt. I felt like I really did fit in with this sport, and I set a new PR. And it was in that moment hat I realized my priorities had changed. I was no longer approaching these races from the perspective of "I just want to finish". I knew I could finish, now I wanted to finish well. Maybe not the best thing for me as I headed into August and towards my first Olympic distance in Folsom.
