Liberty to Liberty Triathlon

Member

The pictures are a little grainy, b/c scanned in from real photos. Grab a cup of coffee and something to eat - you'll be here awhile. For those of you who wanted to live this experience vicariously through me, you are going to get your wish for I tried to remember everything I could.

Short of it: DNF for 1M swim Sad

, 92.1 mile bike (76.1 timed, 5:58:05), 10K 1:19:38. But wait, there's more ....

Preamble
Training time: 14 weeks. I went from 0 swim, 0 bike, 20mpw run to 3mpw swim, 100-125mpw bike (99% inside on the trainer), 40mpw run while also working full-time and taking 4 classes. Exhaustion became my new name. The entire training cycle I focused on 3 goals: 1) to maintain my weight, 2) to train smarter, not harder, and 3) to maintain balance, not giving undue focus to one area of my life, but give equal weight to all. Managed to do all three. Two weeks before the race, bad things started to happen. I got a cold and bronchitis from The Paramedic. I slept only about 2 hours a night for over a week due to constant coughing, sneezing, and sniffling. I lost 8 pounds and got really dehydrated. I jammed my elbow pretty badly on a fall off the bike. I was in a minor car accident. I was stood up for dinner by my coach. cry

My family kept trying to talk me out of this adventure. I felt cursed! At least I donated my hair and got a new sassy, tri-friendly 'do.

The Day Before
Went to the bike store to re-learn how to mount the bike rack on my car

. Packed almost every piece of athletic gear I owned in my car with the 2 dogs, and The Paramedic and I hit the road. Dropped off the dogs at my parents' house in NJ, then went to NYC for packet pick-up where I discover I'm number 22 and pre-race meeting where we learned the bike course was being extended 1.1 miles due to some bridge construction. Met some fellow tri-ers with whom I'd get close over the next day. During the meeting I met other tri-ers. Let me tell you, triathletes are sooo nice, caring, and helpful. No one thought my questions were stupid, and when people found out I was from Philly they asked me many questions about the 10K portion. They treated me with much respect, and made me feel like a true athlete instead of the poseur one I felt like. The Paramedic and I went to dinner uptown, and had to pass the WTC site on the way. Tears were in my eyes as I was forced to behold what I'd been able to so far avoid. Too painful for me, having lost so many that day. After an overpriced, mediocre dinner and two pints, we drove back to NJ to sleep.

Race Morning
Up at 4, out by 430. After stopping to get gas and prerequisite race breakfast of DD coffee and bagel, back to Battery Park where we scored free parking at the check-in point. At least, what we THOUGHT was the check-in point - the directions we were given were wrong. We met up with 2 other couples who also couldn't find the start; a half hour later we stumbled upon it. Got numbered, and sat around to wait. Used a unisex bathroom, and nervous joked with my fellow triathletes. It was 45 degrees but clear; it looked like we were going to have a great day weather-wise. You can see I was a little nervous before the start:

The Swim: DNF
Goal: swim at least 40 of the 45 allotted minutes or a mile, whichever came first. We suited up, got in numerical order, and one by one jumped into the water. The water was about 62, so it was warmer than the air thumbs up

. We bobbed around for a while in the slimy, nasty water of the Hudson River and then we were off at 7am against the current. Within 5 seconds I got kicked in the head, and I panicked and swallowed a ton of gross water. After coughing out the water and trying to calm down, I tried to freestyle but couldn't. I had a sort of panic attack that lasted the whole swim: absolute fright coupled with hyperventilation. So glad I trained so hard to swim the mile I easily could've done in 45 minutes

. I then switched to backstroke and was managing OK singing "I suck, I suck, I really suck at swimming" while simultaneously gasping for air. My goggles quickly fogged up so I put them atop my head. I had covered my ears with the swimcap to keep the muck out, but couldn't hear the kayakers telling me to turn left or right so I had to move it up behind my ears. Ewww, I felt so gross and skeeved out during this swim. 20 minutes (I think; my watch reset itself Evil or Very Mad

) and those in my pack were 1/3 of a mile in.

Then the current got much stronger, and we were swimming but going nowhere. After 20 minutes of this I still saw the stupid clock on Pier A - I was going nowhere. The Paramedic said he watched a few people get stuck in the 4 knot current and they went BACKWARDS, so I guess I was making progress by not losing any ground. At 40 minutes in, I said to the kayaker next to me, "All hope is lost - I've missed the cutoff, right?" She nodded. "So what will happen now?" She replied, "In 5 minutes I'll have to pull you out." I heard Coach's voice in my head saying "the whole point of the swim is to save it for the bike and run. Save it, Lauri." With that, I pulled out. Immediately thereafter the kayaker got a radio message to pull everyone in. I started a trend!

I was pulled into the boat still hyperventilating and now choking from the boat fumes. We eventually pulled 8 people into our boat, and out of the 80 participants in the race, over 20 were pulled. We jumped back in the water, swam to the pier, and were pulled out. We each gave our numbers as we were pulled out. I sang "22! 22! Gotta be out of the water now, 22!" I still had my sense of humor, and I felt better knowing experienced triathletes had also DNF'd, but it still hurt a lot, especially because I freaked out so badly and couldn't freestyle. I still managed to meet my goal by swimming 40 minutes, but DNF hurt. "At least later today, I'll get to run," I thought. The last photo in this bunch says it all. I'm the one with the sleeeveless wetsuit with red trim and look of terror on her face.

T1: untimed - ferry ride from NYC to NJ, 11M bike preamble
I screamed "GET ME WET, BABY!" and a volunteer hosed me off pretty well with cold water. Peeled off my wetsuit with The Paramedic's help and went to change into my bike gear. We ladies in the tent b!tched about the swim, and no one knew where to go to catch the ferry to take us to NJ. I emerged from the tent, ignoring the sunscreen I'd brought because I didn't want to deal with it. I tried to read the map to the ferry but couldn't. Eventually the race director said, "This guy'll take you." This guy was a complete lunatic, and I was pissed off about the complete lack of organization and about my lackluster swim performance. After walking over a mile from the swim finish to the ferry Evil or Very Mad

I kissed The Paramedic goodbye and said "See you sometime tonight."

On the ferry I grabbed an inside, remote seat and tears streamed down my face. If the current had been going our way, as the race directors had told us it would be, I would've made that cutoff easy, even with the backstroke. A few people I had met the day before and that morning came to check on me. Some hugged me, some squeezed my shoulder and said "I know". One woman sat next to me, put her arm around me, and said, "Last summer I swam 2.2 miles in Lake Placid in 1:12. Today I swam the mile in just over 50 minutes, 25 minutes slower than I'd thought. It wasn't good for any of us, so don't beat yourself up. Focus on the bike." That was pretty humbling, and much appreciated. I choked down some peanut chews, Swedish fish, and Nabs. I was sick to my stomach from being upset and swallowing so much of that nasty water.

The ferry docked in NJ and we went to collect our bikes. After some much-needed air was pumped into my tires by a tech, I lined up and we started our untimed 11M preamble through residential streets with police escort. I intentionally was last, not wanting to get in anyone's way, and still leery of my new pedals I'd only tested once before this odyssey. The last SAG van pulled up and said, "Can you try to keep up with the other riders?" I was 4 bike lengths behind, so this angered me. "I'm doing the best I can, lady" was all I said, though I REALLY wanted to say more. Finally we dismounted at a community college, late of course, and sat around waiting for the race directors to compose themselves. Despite this being the 21st running of the event, and despite the fact that the head race director had founded this event, they were pretty clueless about when and what was happening.

The Timed Portion of the Bike: 76.1M, 5:58:05 (~12.75mph)
Goals: to fall no more than 3 times; to not walk up any hill; to not get lost on the course; sub-6. Eventually we lined up in order of swim finish and left. We were supposed to head out at 10:30; I left at 11:45. Evil or Very Mad

The course went through many scenic towns; as a non-nature lover it was OK. I did like the few towns where we went through old school Main Streets and the like. We passed many farms and horse breeders, and I saw (and smelled) more roadkill than a human needs in a day. I had to pay close attention, for we were on open roads with minimal police support. I had to keep watching the road to avoid rocks (I so did not want a flat) and the occasional ditch on the side of the road. I moved between the shoulder when there was some, and the road when there was none. 15 miles or so in the jammed elbow pain was radiating up and down my left arm. Quickly it became numb except for my shoulder, which felt like it was on fire. I cannot describe how excruciatingly painful this was, and how much worse it got over the bike leg.

I hit aid station 1 at mile 25 in 1:49. My wristband was cutting off my circulation so it was cut off (apparently my arm was swelling from the pain and trauma). Very sick to my stomach by now, I couldn't eat a thing. I managed to gulp down 24oz of Gatorade and conversed with my fellow backpackers. No one seemed to be having too much fun, and my friend CJ from the day before came in looking like death and screaming that she wanted to quit. Her support team, who followed her, her friend, AND me met her and kept her going. That support team was amazing - just when I felt most horrible, they were there shouting encouragement for me, a woman they'd met just the day before. Very Happy

I stayed 5 minutes at the aid station, and went off again.

Between aid stations 1 & 2 I lost a few minutes because I had to stop twice because I couldn't figure out where I was. The road was sporadically marked with red and yellow tape, and there were orange and white signs about 11"x17" that pointed where we were to go. We had been given written directions for the course, which proved useless if you didn't know how many turns you had made and thus didn't know where in the directions you were. I once had to flag down the traveling bike repair van to ask them where to go.

At some intersections there were cops, everyone of which I thanked, and at some turns I had to take chances. Shocked

I fell once because I didn't know where I was so I stopped while forgetting to unclip. A cop was at that intersection and stopped all traffic, despite me being out of it, to make sure I could cross the road. I got an interesting-looking bruise on my right inner knee, but was OK. Kept on, continually fighting through the pain and thinking, "Just get home and you'll get to run."

I hit aid station 2 at mile 40 hurting really badly at 3:01. I couldn't move my left arm, and could barely hold onto the bike with it. I unclipped on the right, and accidentally shifted my weight to my left side. Down I went again, but since I couldn't move my arm I fell on it. I lay on the ground, trying to unclip my left foot. A volunteer ran over and asked if I was OK. I'm lying pretty immobile on the ground, my bike draped over me, thinking what a sight I might be. I started laughing and said "no, but could you help me get this bike off and lift me up?" He managed to unclip me and hoisted me to the ground. My fellow backpackers were looking haggard, everyone was disgruntled. One was having serious cramps. I downed another 24oz of Gatorade, and no food since I was still sick. Five minutes later, back on the road.

Around mile 50, I got pretty bored. I biked the course almost entirely by myself. My ADHD allows me only so much focus and then I went nuts. I wanted off the bike, out of the freakin' country, and I wanted to run. I was in incredible pain, was sick, was tired, and had been coughing and sneezing all day. True, it was a beautiful day with mild weather, but I was feeling crappy. At one right turn I saw a right turn sign, "WEST 195". I said, "oh dear god, no." I knew exactly where I was: just down the road from Great Adventure, and only 45 minutes by car from home. It took every ounce of strength to not stop and call The Paramedic requesting a pick up there and keep going. But I did.

I hit aid station 3 in tears, mile 58 in 4:20. My times were pretty steady, but I couldn't take the pain anymore. My arm had been numb for a long time, my right hand was cramping badly from all the shifting and braking, not to mention supporting all my weight. I called The Paramedic bawling my eyes out. "I'm at mile 58, and I have 19.1 to go just on the timed portion. I feel so bad, I feel so lost. I'll see you in about 2 hours, I guess, if I don't die first." I downed a third 24oz bottle of Gatorade, but still couldn't eat. The tank was nearing empty, but I didn't want to elevate my sporting madness by having to learn the proper puking technique atop a bicycle during a race. Confused

The last 19.1 miles were the most telling. My shoulder was on fire, and I was tired of the country, driving over highways, driving on highways. Then I said "you are NOT telling me I'm biking on a highway onramp!" but oh yes I was, right onto route 30. A pretty busy SIX LANE highway. Thankfully I got off that after only a quarter mile or so, and followed more residential. Eventually I got to Camden, and rode through parts of town I wouldn't have driven through during the day. The streets were a mess, and it was all I could do to not hit a pothole, street crack, or whatever else because many had warned me about the hazards, having gotten flats there last year. One guy said he rode 5M on a flat tire because he was too scared to stop Shocked

.

I stopped at a light and BANG! went down because the car behind me hit my back tire. Luckily nothing hurt, and I kept going. Closer and closer the Ben Franklin Bridge seemed, and I knew I was getting close to the finish. I lost a lot of time on the final leg, because there were stop signs and red traffic lights galore. Finally I saw the finish line, and dismounted when I was told to. I pushed my bike across the finish line, sobbing from pain and relief the whole way.

T2: untimed - 5M crossing of the Ben Franklin Bridge and dodge through center city Philadelphia
I got some water, and asked if there was a bike cutoff (there had been nothing advertised about it, but I had heard rumors). The volunteer radioed, and I was told the last runner would be allowed to start at 6pm. It was 5:45, and I flipped. No way was I going to get there in time, and I was mad because we'd started an hour and 45 minutes late and as such would have made the cutoff if it started on time. Still sobbing. The volunteer said, "Just go to the art museum, and talk to the blonde lady. She'll help you."

So up the steps of the bridge walkway I climbed. It took all my strength to drag my bike up 3 flights of steel steps, because I could only use my right arm. I couldn't bike the 2M across the bridge, because I'm deathly afraid of heights. I figured I'd make it if I put the bike on my right, and only faced right and looked at the cars or the walls around me. Once I was forced to look left and I freaked, seeing how high up we were. Eventually I breathed a sigh of relief, because I was off the bridge. A fellow tri-er had caught up with me, having ridden across the bridge, and asked me where I was going. I said to the art museum, and he said I was going the wrong way. "Dude, trust me, I LIVE here, follow me." 5th to Race to 4th to Arch, 14 blocks to the Parkway. Straight down to the oval. When I dismounted, I was in severe pain but I was so relieved it was over.

The guy I'd ridden with was the one who had cramped up pretty badly at station 2. He knew how terrified I was of the bike, and said he couldn't believe it. I had looked like a seasoned pro riding through the traffic-packed streets of Philly, he said, weaving around cars and buses, stopping when I needed to and going faster to beat the lights. If nothing else, I biked my longest ride ever - my first onroad metric century - and managed to conquer my fear of the bike. Pix at the end of the bike show my pain and relief:

I was told by the race director I couldn't run, because it was too late and they needed to start packing up. I found the blonde lady - his wife - and explained that had I had known in January when I signed up for this that there was a bike cutoff, I wouldn't have done it knowing I'm a slow cyclist. Plus I'd worked so hard to get there, and thinking I was going to run kept me going the whole day so no one was going to stop me. She said, "You're from Philly, right? You have support here?" I replied, "Yes, my husband, a paramedic." So she gave me a medal, told me to run, and then email them the time. I gave The Paramedic the medal, and went to change. I set off to run on my own, because dude I'd ridden to town with bailed. 2 people behind me had pulled out during the bike, and only CJ was left. She met me in the changing area, and said she'd see me on the course.

The Run: 10K: 1:19:38 (12:51mm)
Back at home, on my turf, on my course. I race on West River Drive all the time, and now I was finishing my tri on familiar ground albeit the path rather than the actual road. I ran the first 15 minutes, then walked/ran the rest. I had to hold my left arm up most of the run because my shoulder hurt so badly, and it was difficult because my left elbow was raw and bloody from bike fall #1. I had a lot of time to process the day's events, and I passed CJ at her mile 3 with a smile on my face. By the mile 6 marker I was beaming, knowing this adventure would soon be over. I crossed the finish line with a smile, and collapsed sobbing uncontrollably in The Paramedic's arms relieved it was over, and marveling over my accomplishments. Sadly the only photo of me smiling, crossing the run finish line with a personal 10K worst (a lot more tan and a little sunburned), was blurry. Figures. Splits: 10:39, 12:34, 13:57, 13:06, 14:18, 12:54, 2:11 (.2).

Postrace
I lay on the ground and processed what I'd done that day. I started at 7am, and ended at 7:15pm. I had some water which further distended my extremely distressed stomach and felt better. I waited for CJ to cross, and when she did she, her friend Debbie, and I had a group hug. Smiles all around. A few photos taken atop the art museum steps while we sang strains from Rocky tunes, then a few beers in the parking lot that The Paramedic had brought. Then they left for Richmond, we left for home. I called Coach Bob on the way, and he sounded pleased with my overall results. At least, I thought he sounded pleased. The ladies (Debbie, me, CJ) at the finish:

So I am now a triathlete, and as such climb up another rung of the athleticism ladder. Will I do this race again? HELL no. It was a logistical nightmare, and I still feel badly that The Paramedic had to sacrifice his first weekend off in two years to support me in this endeavor. It was too disorganized and confusing for the high price ticket. Will I tri again? Yesterday I thought no, but today I think the half ironman in September is still a go. Why suck at only one sport, when I can suck at 3? Very Happy

I managed to overcome my terror of my bike Nemesis, met all my goals, and ended up with pretty decent times for the bike and the run. I am tremendously proud of all the training I did for this, and how far I came as an athlete and as a person.

My girlfriends often tell me I'm too humble about my athletic accomplishments, but I give myself props for the tri. I got some very rough breaks during the two weeks leading up to it, and was still ill on the big day. I tri-ed my little heart out, and never gave up despite wanting to often. I endured indescribable pain, confusion, anger, and fear and managed to be valiant in the effort and smiling at the end. I traveled over 100 miles through 3 states, and did things, saw things that would have seemed impossible a year ago. I am always chasing The Experience with my characteristic all-encompassing passion, and I did get quite an experience in true Rock Star fashion. With this triathlon I, an ordinary woman, had a chance to do something extraordinary, to be extraordinary.

And, if only for a single day, I was.

Member

You swam in the Hudson River??? Shocked

Just curious here... why'd you pick this for your first tri? That's a pretty hefty swim and bike compared to the run, and it seems with all the transitions, time in-between, and biking with traffic that it wouldn't be too beginner-friendly. I can't imagine having to stop for traffic lights and riding through a ghetto, let alone swim upstream in that crap.

Great effort, it sounds like you went through hell, both prerace and during. That's definitely something to be proud of.

Side note: none of your pictures worked for me.

PRESIDENT

Wow, sounds very tough. Shocked

Excellent effort, congrats on finishing. Dancing Banana

I'm sure you learned lots from your first experience and will use it to do better next time. You go girl!!! thumbs up

Adjunct

wow, sucks about the swim.

seems as though the other portions were okay. At least you were able to complete the tri, despite dnf, the swim. That is unusual.

you are right about fellow triathletes and question. They are a very helpful bunch.

go get them next year

nice hair btw

Frightened Inmate #2

Member

As always, and as I told you yesterday, I'm proud of you.

And I love the hair! SASSY!

Member

I've never watched a tri that they allow the athlete to continue after being pulled from the water. Good for you for continuing on! I know that I wouldn't be able to attempt the swim....but I know a competitive masters swimmer that freaked out from the mass start of WI ironman and would not get in the water. Believe it or not, I think you've tackled the hardest part of the swim--the courage to start. I know my hubby still gets skiddish with mass starts or waves that aren't by swimming ability.

Congrats dance

Member

Part of me would like to tell you that you're a freakin' idiot, when you're that hurt and ill, you save it for another day. The other part of me thinks you're the toughest person I know, and that you absoulutely rock. All of me is extremely proud of what you accomplished. I am beyond impressed, and slightly worried about your mental health. Mr. Green

Please tell me you're taking some time off to heal.

Member

We thought about you all day on Sunday, and sent up a prayer at about 6:30 pm that you were on the Art Museum steps.

Member

Wow

Congratulations!

The Movie Geek

I'm just stunned. Wow. And congratulations for even attempting a tri (and under such circumstances!) let alone finishing one (and under such circumstances!).

Oompa Loofah

You were totally awesome--just like I knew you would be! I bet the 'Medic didn't mind being there for a minute! I bet he loved being there to give you props.

You accomplished amazing things in an amazing way. Now go to the doc for your arm!!!!!

You did awesome and I am very impressed by you!

Member

Well done, kid. Amazing effort every step of the way. Such perseverence you have! Great report too... you have bared all so that people like me can indeed live vicariously through you and the race. You are strong (and brave) in many ways.

The Pinball

this is the truest test of your perserverance yet, and you passed cheers

congratulations on finishing what i wouldnt even consider starting. (no toe of mine is even touching the Hudson river)

that bike ride thru traffic would have sucked. completely.

your head won out against all odds and the body followed. i'd hope you do consider doing another tri and this one would probably make it seem easy.

Saccharomyces cerevisiae

Way to go, kid! Funky dance time!

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