Triathlon: The Cost

By kate on September 13th, 1999

What I Bought

I didn’t really expect to buy anything for the triathlon, since I already owned a bike, a swim suit, and exercise clothes and shoes. But as I started training, I realized that some items would make my life easier. This is a list of all the triathlon-related expenditures I made.

  Entry fee $50.00
  Bike computer $20.00
  Handlebar bag $55.00
  Swim goggles (2) $25.40
  Ear & nose plugs $ 3.00
  Pool admission fees $ 5.00
  Swim cap $ 1.69
  Road tires $ 48.00
  Tune belt $ 18.00
  Clear bike glasses $ 6.00
  Swimsuit $ 21.99
  Baseball cap $ 3.00
  Total $257.08
Filed under: consumerism, triathlon | 1 Comment »


Triathlon: Reflections on the Experience

By kate on September 13th, 1999

I gained both skill and endurance from my training, as well as enhanced muscle tone (my weight didn’t change). In the course of training, I swam 7.4 miles (11.8K), ran 40.7 miles (65.5K), and biked 156.5 miles (251.9K). That works out to an average of 15 triathlons (not counting the actual race)! I spent $257.08 on gear and admission (click here for an itemized list). Click here to see a list of everything I took to the race.
 
The triathlon was exciting, but I feel like it snuck up on me. I spent the months and days beforehand concentrating on the details, which was good because I felt prepared. I think, though, I should have spent some time visualizing and fantasizing about the day of the race. If I had done that, the event would have seemed like a bigger deal instead of catching me by surprise. I don’t think I built it up enough.
 
I’m proud of myself, though, to have set such an intimidating goal and achieved it. My friends and family have expressed their pride as well, and I appreciate their support from the bottom of my heart. I would also like to thank Michele for encouraging me to enter, and Shaula for all the companionship.
 
However, I’m glad it’s over. The novelty of preparing for a triathlon wore off several weeks before the race, and I’m ready to move on to the next big thing in my life, whatever that is. For the past two months, I felt obliged to run, swim, or bike whenever I had time to workout. Now, I can return to rock climbing and racquetball, and other sports I’ve neglected.
 
One thing that has changed is my attitude toward running and biking. While I still wouldn’t enjoy resuming this training program, if someone asked me to go on a jog, I might actually say yes. Before I wouldn’t have considered it. Who knows, I may even go by myself once in a while.
 
Would I do it again? I think the experience of becoming a first-time triathlete was worth the challenges. It taught me that my body is able to do more than I expect, and that my mind can be an obstacle during physical activity. I can add “did a triathlon” to the list of reasons why I’m cool. But I don’t know if I’m interested in doing any more triathlons; at least not any time soon. Maybe by the time Danskin registration rolls around next year, I’ll have changed my mind, but for now, I’m ready to move on.
 
Update 1~20~02… Now, a few years later, jogging has become my exercise of choice. I haven’t done any more triathlons, but my overall level of fitness has stayed high because of my triathlon training.

Filed under: triathlon | Comment now »


Triathlon: Race Day

By kate on September 12th, 1999

Stretching
 
The morning of the triathlon dawned cloudless and beautiful. My headache was gone. Having laid everything out carefully the night before, there wasn’t much to do in the morning except get dressed and eat my breakfast of a banana and two PowerBars. I carpooled with Steve, my boyfriend, and my friend Zach drove his Pathfinder with my bike inside. (I asked him to take it because I didn’t want to take the wheel off to fit it in my car.)
 
Parking was very limited, so Steve dropped me off and parked the car. I went to the transition area, a large, fenced-off area filled with rows of metal racks. By the time I arrived, it was more than half-full of bikes and equipment. I selected a spot on the far corner, one I knew would be easy to find during the race. To my surprise, my friend Shaula had thought the same thing and was already setting up her stuff there. I put down my bag and wondered nervously where Zach was with my bike.
 
When Steve returned from parking, he suggested that if I needed to use the restroom, I should do it right away. I looked over, saw a lengthy line of people waiting to use the row of porta-potties, and rushed to join the queue.
 
After I finished, my bike was nowhere to be seen. I wandered around and looked for my family, who were coming to cheer me on. No family, either. Shaula and I walked down to the water to see what the swim course looked like, and where we’d start and finish.
 
Shaula went to the bathroom, and I returned to my spot in the transition area and sorted through my things, trying to figure out the most optimal arrangement. Shaula had suggested I put some baby powder in my socks to make them easier to put on wet feet, so I did. Finally, Steve walked up with my bike (Zach had dropped it off before trying to park). My family arrived. I continued to prepare while trying to ignore Steve and my brother, Mark, taking pictures.
 

With about 15 minutes until the start, we all walked down to the waterfront. A large crowd of people in swimsuits and wetsuits began to converge, along with lots of fully-clothed fans. I shed my sweats, took one last inhaler puff, and walked to the beach. Some people were in the water, so I joined them to see if it was cold – and it wasn’t too bad. A little chilly, but no worse than a cold pool. Some announcements were made, then the first wave was instructed to wade waist-deep into the water. I did, slowly acclimatizing myself to the water temperature. I squatted down, up to my neck in water and was thinking to myself that I was just getting used to the cold, when suddenly I heard, “Five, four, three, two, one, GO!”

 
And the race had begun. I started swimming and realized I hadn’t put on my nose clip. I stopped for a minute and put it on, causing the swimmers behind me to run into my legs. The cold water gave me a little asthma trouble, so it took several minutes to find my rhythm. By then, the good swimmers were well ahead. I was surprised to look behind me and see maybe a quarter of my wave still back there.
 
The swim course was a triangle, which I liked, because I could look up and see myself making progress toward the next buoy. About halfway, I realized that breathing every third stroke instead of every fourth suited my cold-water-affected lungs better. Once I started that, I really found a rhythm. About that time, I was suddenly passed by a bunch of swimmers and realized that the front-runners of the second wave had gone by. I was still, however, ahead of maybe a quarter of my wave, and maintained that position to the end of the swim.
 
The third and last leg was tricky for two reasons: first, the sun was right in my eyes every time I breathed to my left (which was every other breath). Partially due to this, and maybe because of the shape of the course, I found myself going off course several times and had to keep making corrections.

Then, I was in the last stretch – and seaweed brushed my face and body as I swam into shallower water. I stood up in thigh-high water and began to rush toward shore. Ouch! The bottom was covered in sharp rocks! I slowed my pace and thought how funny we all must look, in a race, yet walking very slowly and deliberately out of the water.

 
When I reached the sand, I looked up and saw a huge crowd. All the spectators were crowded around the path to the transition area, cheering. It was very surreal, I thought to myself, as I jogged, dripping wet, through the crowd. I saw my mom, and heard her yelling encouragement. Steve and Zach ran part of the way with me and took my ear plugs from my hand. I had to run 200 yards uphill from the water, barefoot, over mostly grass, but also some pavement and small patches of sharp gravel. By the time I reached the transition area, I couldn’t feel my feet.

I was also more than a little dizzy. Instead of displaying that unsteadiness to my fan club of six (who were now all watching over the fence), I promptly sat down and proceeded to put my socks and shoes on first. The baby powder did the job, and I had no trouble. After that short rest, I was able to stand up and began to slowly put on my sports bra, shorts, tank top, helmet, and sunglasses.

Slowly? In a race? Yes, because of a promise Shaula and I had made. We trained together several times, and found we have a similar pace in both biking and running. We were in the triathlon to finish, rather than to place, so we decided to do the second two parts together. She is a much faster swimmer than me, but started in the third wave. Before the race, we didn’t know who would finish the swim first, but promised that whoever was first would wait for the other. Some people were surprised when I told them this, but the benefit I got from her company on the bike and the run was enough to outweigh the lost minutes as I waited.

 
And it did take about five minutes (after I got there) for her to arrive. She dressed as fast as she could, we grabbed our bikes, and ran them to the bike start. (Mounting bikes was forbidden in the transition area.)
 
We began by riding up a steep hill that got us breathing hard right away. Fortunately, the bike route was well-marked. Every turn was staffed by a volunteer or two who pointed the way and cheered us on. We rode up a big hill and got on the I-90 express lanes. There were two tunnels and a floating bridge on the route, and the scenery was beautiful on this unusually clear day. It was neat to be riding on the freeway with no cars. The race participants were pretty well stretched out by this time, so there wasn’t a large pack of riders as I had expected.
 
Most of the time, though, I thought only about riding the bike. Despite maintaining what felt like a fast pace, we were passed by lots of people. We only managed to pass a few poor souls. I also had to make sure I drank enough water – to finish the entire water bottle during the ride.
 
We cruised toward the Kingdome (the turnaround point) down a steep hill, the enjoyment of which was lessened considerably by the knowledge that I was just about to ride back up. Which I did, and really began to feel tired. Not only that, but my backside was completely numb. During the ride back, I alternated between just wanting to stop and lie down, and feeling okay enough to continue. All this was really just in my head, but very strong nonetheless.

The whole way back, I eagerly anticipated the last hill at the end, which had made for such a difficult start. We zipped down, and suddenly encountered the cheering crowd again. A volunteer told us where to dismount, and we jogged our bikes toward the transition area, past my cheering mom. (My family told me later that many people had fallen over trying to dismount. At least we managed to be graceful.)

 
The next transition was fast as we ditched the bikes. I exchanged my helmet for a cap and we jogged off. The running trail started on a steep hill, too, though, so we decided to walk up to get our legs ready for running. At the top of the incline, we began to jog, but found that we had only begun to understand the meaning of “hill.” The entire running course was hilly! The majority of the first half was up a long, gradual, tiring slope. The path was curvy, so I couldn’t see the end, or even very far ahead.
 
As we began the run, we could see some of the front-runners finishing the race. The course went out and back; that is, we passed by those ahead of us going the other way. Everyone seemed to be doing okay, but Shaula and I were tired. We walked a little here and there. It took what seemed like forever to get to the halfway point, because I expected it around every curve. Finally, we came upon a smiling volunteer who directed us around a wooden post and back the other way.
 
There were uphill sections on the way back, but the majority was downhill, and suddenly, I was much more in favor of hills. With gravity on my side, I could go a little faster.
 
I was beginning to worry about my right knee, though. It had given me a little trouble toward the end of my last few workouts, and started to ache again halfway through the run. Aside from that, my body was doing okay. I wasn’t out of breath at all, and my legs weren’t sore. I had had some stomach cramps at the start of the run, but they were gone. My knee, however, continued to get worse. Shaula was also tired, and was getting some cramps herself. We walked some short stretches.

About the time we got back to the park and realized we were in the home stretch, my knee began feeling worse than it ever had. I started to limp to lessen the pain. Shaula asked, twice, if I wanted to walk; but I replied that if I walked, I wouldn’t be able to start running again. We jogged to the finish and ran over the finish line as the clock read one hour, forty-seven minutes. (Something was wrong with the clock. It read 1:47 on the side facing me, and a later time on the other side, as you can see. My “official” time, later, was 1:49:20.)

 
I handed my number to a volunteer. My proud family and friends surrounded me, but I just wanted to sit down. Shaula hugged me and headed off to talk to her husband. I sat down and slowly recovered, and answered questions about the race. My brother, Michael, retrieved free Clif bars for everyone. When it finally occurred to me to take off my shoes, I was surprised to find blood on one of my socks. I must have cut my foot on the sharp rocks at the end of the swim, but never noticed because my feet were so numb.
 
We sat in the sun for a long time, watched people finish, and waited for the awards ceremony scheduled for 11:00 a.m. (forty-five minutes after my finish). When eleven o’clock came and went, with no sign of a ceremony, we gave up and headed home.

Filed under: triathlon | Comment now »


Triathlon: The Night Before

By kate on September 11th, 1999

It is ten p.m. the night before the triathlon and I really don’t feel nervous or excited. I’ve been too wrapped up in the details to really think about the race.
 
I’ve been sick all week – so sick that I went home early from work every day. I was very worried that I’d be sick on race day. Fortunately, I’m mostly better (but I would have raced no matter what). All week I poured vitamin C, zinc, and echinacea into my body, drank lots of fluids, got lots of sleep, and did everything I could think of to get well. One of those things was to rest – that is, I haven’t worked out since I got back from my trip. I know I’m in good enough shape, but I still wish I could have trained a little more this week. My tapering turned out to be a sharp drop-off instead.
 
In any case, it worked and I feel almost well. Tonight I’ve been engrossed in the minutiae of preparing my gear. I checked into the race this afternoon and found out I was number 50 – in the first wave. They wrote “50” on both my hands in permanent marker, and gave me numbers to put on my swimsuit, shirt, and bike.
 
I’ve been thinking about things such as, do I put my sports bra under my swimsuit (before the swim) or on top of my swimsuit (after the swim)? Which running shorts should I wear? Should I bring a hat? What flavor of PowerBar shall I have in the morning? How do I attach that darn number to my bike? Should I wear a ponytail or pigtails?
 
Another immediate concern of mine is a headache that I’ve developed. Occasionally I get a headache that lasts for three or four days, that nothing can help, even Tylenol. This headache feels like one of those. I just hope it’s gone in the morning.
 
So, as of right now, I haven’t devoted any thought or imagination to what tomorrow will be like. It still seems far away.

Filed under: triathlon | Comment now »


Triathlon: Tapering

By kate on September 8th, 1999
Current totals: Other:
Running 40.7 mi / 65.51 K Hiking 8 mi / 12.87 K
Biking 156.5 mi / 251.86 K Canoeing 40 minutes
Swimming 7.4 mi / 11.84 K Soccer 10 games

 

A Week from the Triathlon

 
I feel fairly ready for the triathlon at this point. I ran and swam a total of 11.8 and 2.8 miles, respectively, on my trip, and by the end could do the entire distance (both sports) without stopping to rest. My swimming, in particular, improved a lot.
 
My brother told me about something athletes do called “tapering.” Apparently, several days before a big event, they start tapering their training down and usually do nothing one or two days before. I was planning to do this anyway, but it was nice to hear it is a legitimate strategy.
 
Upon returning from my trip, though, I caught a bad cold that has my throat sore and my whole head feeling foggy. I don’t feel up to working out. But this is one of my last few available days to exercise before I have to taper.
 
All in all, I feel like I’m ready for the race, so I’ll workout as much as I can the next day or two, then take it easy.

Filed under: triathlon | Comment now »


Triathlon: On Vacation (But Not From Training)

By kate on August 30th, 1999

The first challenge in Greece was determining the correct distances to run and swim. The first day, I swam in the pool what I thought was less than I should have, only to find out later it was just the right amount when I got the measurements of the pool. I swam that again the next day. Then, yesterday, we measured 400 meters (half the length) along the beach so I could swim in the sea.
 
I’ve done it twice now, and I feel much better about open-water swimming. I can swim the whole 400m without stopping (although I do rest before going back). It is far more interesting than swimming in pools, because occasionally I can see fish. The water is very clear, with a sandy bottom. It is, of course, warmer than a lake at home, and the salt water makes me buoyant (so much so that I can float on my back, motionless, without holding my breath). The salt, however, is worse tasting than lake water, I think. Anyway, swimming is improving.
 
I’ve finally learned some tricks to getting the most out of my gear. The secret to donning a swim cap is to get it wet first. That way it doesn’t stick to your hair. With goggles, you have to worry about fogging up and leakage. What I finally discovered was that when you put your goggles on dry, they won’t leak. They do fog up eventually, but I decided to put up with the fog in order to keep the water out. When I get home, I’m going to try using a fog-free cloth on the goggles and see if it helps.
 
There is a town, Kardemena, near the resort, and the resort people told me it was about a kilometer and a half away. So I’ve been running to the town, then through it, before turning around and running back. The first part is along a road by the beach. The second part, through town, is better because there’s a million things to look at. I didn’t run today, though, because I’m fairly sore and wanted to rest my legs.
 
I’m also playing volleyball every morning, which counts as exercise, I suppose.

Filed under: triathlon | Comment now »


« Previous Page Next Page »