RR part 2

Okay, okay...I know this is turning into a very bad novel, but the writing process is somewhat cathartic. I promise that part 3 will be the final installment...and full of many secrets and gossip ;).

This is a picture of Rain and my dad, Boris(wearing the finisher's shirt I got him from IM CdA last year, lol)- just finished making signs at the expo.


Part 2

Saturday, otherwise know as the day before race day, arrived. GG and I went down to the lake around noon to go for a swim, after I insisted a little….he really didn’t want to get wet, or cold, but I needed to see if I could breath and swim at the same time, and I really wanted to confirm how cold the lake was. I am pretty sure that G2 hates these swims because he has to keep relatively close to me in the water. I am not a fan of open water and I don’t like to be out there alone. And, in the off chance that something really is out there, I am sure that he looks like a much more delicious and worthwhile morsel than me. After surviving the swim, we decided to get my bike ready to race. Or more like, I tried to force “mama’s boy” to make sure that my bike was race ready….and do the important stuff like add some bar tape, put on some borrowed bottle cages(thanks Ehren!) and make sure everything else was good to go(the reflectors also finally came off….). It is times like this that I am pretty thankful that neither of us are your typical “type A” triathletes as I know that getting a new bike together the day before an Ironman would probably freak a lot of people out. Whatever. We then loaded then up and took them down to drop them off at transition promptly at 2:55(transition closed at 3:00).

The rest of the day was rather uneventful – we just hung out and splashed around by our cabin with the girls and ate a yummy dinner and some wine with my parents. Since transition was opening at 5:00 am, and we were about 12 minutes from town, we decided that 5:00 would be a good time to wake up and that we would aim for a 5:45 departure. A quick breakfast of coffee and Erin Baker’s Ultra Protein Granola was downed, and we were off, sipping on some Go Fast in the car on the way down to the race site.

Now, I hate to let you guys in on a little secret, but I’ll tell you anyways….when you show up for an Ironman race at 6:00 am, an hour after transition has opened, you will find it remarkably empty. There is no waiting in line to get in, no waiting to get body marked, no waiting for much of anything. The place is actually pretty deserted…it was so empty that I even double checked that the race was really going to start at 7am. GG and I then changed into our wetsuits but apparently I was taking too long as I looked for some body glide to borrow for my neck cause I was informed that “only losers need body glide”. Well, count me in with the losers then…and I think there was a pretty big group of us there that morning. So, as I was meandering around, GG said his goodbyes and said he was taking our bags to special needs as he was finally growing a little impatient.

I finally got my neck all lubed up and started to make my way to the faaaaaaaaar right of the swim course. On my way, I ran into Adam and then, we found his sister Jessica. It was really comforting to see those two as we swim together, for the most part, at FAC. Adam went off to do something, so Jessica and I headed down to the water for a little warm up. I don’t really get nervous before races – and I really wasn’t nervous since I had no expectations for this day at all, however, as I approach the swim portion of any race, I always feel like I am being led to slaughter and it is simply all about survival. I even make little bargains with myself along the way….needless to say, the chatter in my head about my imminent death can sometimes be a little hard to tune out. Jessica and I waited on shore, looking for a good place to start – and it is so tough to figure out because I have found that some good swimmers can look quite unathletic, even chubby, and most people, no matter what they look like, or how old they are, swim much, much faster than me. Keeping this in mind, I decided to ask some of the guys standing next to us if “they hit girls” or if they were planning on clobbering me as they swam by. After getting some pretty convincing answers, I decided we were in a pretty good spot when all of a sudden, I heard a BANG. Jessica and I looked at each other, and were like, was that the starting cannon? It must have been because everyone started to push their way into the water. I probably made it about 50 metres from shore, absolutely loving my Blueseventy Helix and complimenting myself on my great swim start position when I tried to sight. It was pretty freaking choppy out there!!! As I looked up, I got a mouth full of water. I couldn’t see a thing – no buoys, just swells and the water seemed really dark. I tried again and got another mouthful when I tried to breath. By now, I was starting to panic as I had missed two breathing opportunities and was about to miss a third as another swell found its way into my mouth.

I couldn’t breath and had to stop as I began to hyperventilate and somehow cough at the same time….I actually thought I was drowning and I began to panic even more as I was frantically doing something that resembled treading water. I scanned around, trying to see somebody on a surfboard or a buoy or anything that I could grab on to. The first thought in to my head was “WTF…what was I thinking? I am so done. I am never doing this again”. And then I scolded myself for being so pathetic in open water. How could everyone else be doing this swim except for me? I kept drowning for another couple of minutes and then I realized that nobody was coming to rescue me – if I couldn’t see them, I was quite positive they couldn’t see me. I realized that I had to keep moving forward….somehow, after what seemed like an eternity, I managed to start breathing again and start swimming. I just wanted to get out of the f*cking water. Later, right after the race, GG told me that he was quite worried about me during the swim and was very relieved when he saw me out on the bike cause he knew I would be struggling in that water. Isn’t that sweet?

I came out for the first lap and saw that somehow, Jessica was still right beside me. Again, for whatever reason, I found that to be quite reassuring, and was sure that with her company, I would be able to do another lap. That second lap was all about survival – just make it through and don’t panic. I hate that. I hate how vulnerable swimming makes me feel. I wish I knew how to swim until I puked or until my arms fell off but that is something that my mind can’t even comprehend.

I came out of the water in 1:15 or so……sigh.

I ran up to transition and I tried to think positive thoughts – like how at least my transition was going to be super quick this year cause I wouldn’t have to stop to warm up in the hot tubs. Or how it would be much quicker this year to put on my shoes since my fingers weren’t frozen. Or how I would have lots of room in the transition tent since all of the crowds would have already cleared out…..My volunteer was pretty helpful except for the fact that I had rolled my arm warmers up like doughnuts so I could slip them on my arms and push them up as I rode, and she thought that I might like them straightened out first. But I still think that I was out of there relatively quickly, with arm warmers and gloves on, and on to my bike… Now the real "fun" was about to start.