Welp,
I walked. And walked. And walked.
http://changeswiththeseasons.blogspot.com/2009/07/somethings-got-to-give.html
And overall, the experience was…well…let my friend Liat sum it up: “experiment is over: if you're thinking about not properly training for a tri- you should also think about hills, severe thunderstorms, headwinds & crosswinds of 20+mph with blinding rain...”
I knew I hadn’t been properly training for this race. And yet something within me told me that if I didn’t do it now, I would never do it. I was also feeling a bit feisty. I’m sure it’s no secret that much of my time throughout the summer was devoted to work. Well, I’d made up my mind that I wasn’t going to let work interfere with me living (and possibly dieing) while experiencing life to it’s fullest.
The night before the race I was surely in denial. I’d estimated I’d complete the 1.2 Mile Swim, 56 Mile Bike, and 13.1 Mile Run in 6:30 or 7 hours at most. 40 – 50 minute swim. 2:30 – 3 hour bike. And 2:30 – 3 hour run. AND, I told myself it was possible…
When morning arrived, it was raining and the forecast foretold imminent thunderstorms. Those of you who competed in cross country or track know where I’m going with this…maybe, MAYBE, PLEASE God, MAYBE, they’ll cancel the race. No such luck…
I sat up transition to overcast skies that threatened rain everywhere I looked. By the time the race was underway, it had begun to rain. Rain Schmain, I thought, I’m going to get wet in the water anyway. And it wasn’t the swim I was worried about.
Once in the water, I could tell the water was a bit choppy and I knew it was raining but overall it didn’t interfere much with the swim. However, once on the bike, I realized I should have kept my goggles on. My glasses proved futile in the fight against the pelting rain drops. My aero bars were also of no use in the gusting winds. If I wanted to remain in control and on my bike, I was going to have to ride in the upright position.
Usually I like hills. I can push myself to the top because I know there’s relief once I get there. Not on this day. The wind was so strong it would start to push you backwards if you stopped peddling.
The bike provided no form of relief. Coasting was out of the question. So, with 5 miles left, I found some relief in a Port-a-Potty. Not the kind of relief you’re anticipating. I needed some privacy to shed the sports bra that was digging into my shoulders and making the already painful ride, excruciating. I made it back to transition and more than ready to get off the bike.
While leaving transition off the bike and into the run, I gave a volunteer the “Yes, I’m crazy but I’m not quitting now” look. She just smiled and gave me words of encouragement, “You’re looking good!” This woman obviously didn’t know how that in addition to my awesome triathlon skills, I’m a great actor.
By this point, I’d come to terms that there was no way I was going to run the entire 13.1 miles. I’d heard of people training and running marathons while doing a run/walk sequence. Example: Run 5 Minutes. Walk 5 Minutes. Repeat. And that’s what I did. For the first 5 Miles. But then I hit the wall. I was hurting and my legs wouldn’t move. However, I kept my momentum knowing pretzels, oranges, and water would greet me at the next mile. I made friends too. Some lunatic said it was his 3rd time doing this race. Another mad man was training for an Ironman in Mexico and this was a training race. Are all tri-athletes crazy?
I did finish the race. It was the longest 8 and ½ hours of my life.
As I struggled with myself, my conversations went something like this:
“Rachel, you’re nuts! Why don’t you quit now?”
“Ha! Quit? Never!”
“Rachel…you don’t HAVE to finish. Just throw in the towel.”
“No way! I’ve made it this far! I’m not quitting now.”
“Maybe I should quit.”
“Naw, just make it to the next water stop. They’ll have oranges. Oooh! And pretzels.”
“3 miles left. 3 miles left. Then you’re done.”
“2 miles left. Maybe you should start running again?”
“Naw! Maybe halfway through the last mile.”
“Maybe I should start running now?”
“Naw, wait until you can see the finish line. Well, maybe a little bit before you see the finish line so then it doesn’t look like you’re running just because you see the finish line.”
“Oh how nice, they’re honking and waving at me for encouragement.”
“Oh how embarrassing. I wish they’d stop honking and waving at me for encouragement.”
“And I’m RUNNING! Ooo! I see Blake! And Kristin! And Liat!”
“That was the most miserable experience of my life. I’m so glad I’m done.”
Now, wait for it….I’m considering an Iron Man. Yes, I think all tri-athletes may be predisposed to the crazy gene, including me. But someday I’d like to complete one. The Half didn’t kill me and you know what they say, “What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.”
I walked. And walked. And walked.
http://changeswiththeseasons.blogspot.com/2009/07/somethings-got-to-give.html
And overall, the experience was…well…let my friend Liat sum it up: “experiment is over: if you're thinking about not properly training for a tri- you should also think about hills, severe thunderstorms, headwinds & crosswinds of 20+mph with blinding rain...”
I knew I hadn’t been properly training for this race. And yet something within me told me that if I didn’t do it now, I would never do it. I was also feeling a bit feisty. I’m sure it’s no secret that much of my time throughout the summer was devoted to work. Well, I’d made up my mind that I wasn’t going to let work interfere with me living (and possibly dieing) while experiencing life to it’s fullest.
The night before the race I was surely in denial. I’d estimated I’d complete the 1.2 Mile Swim, 56 Mile Bike, and 13.1 Mile Run in 6:30 or 7 hours at most. 40 – 50 minute swim. 2:30 – 3 hour bike. And 2:30 – 3 hour run. AND, I told myself it was possible…
When morning arrived, it was raining and the forecast foretold imminent thunderstorms. Those of you who competed in cross country or track know where I’m going with this…maybe, MAYBE, PLEASE God, MAYBE, they’ll cancel the race. No such luck…
I sat up transition to overcast skies that threatened rain everywhere I looked. By the time the race was underway, it had begun to rain. Rain Schmain, I thought, I’m going to get wet in the water anyway. And it wasn’t the swim I was worried about.
Once in the water, I could tell the water was a bit choppy and I knew it was raining but overall it didn’t interfere much with the swim. However, once on the bike, I realized I should have kept my goggles on. My glasses proved futile in the fight against the pelting rain drops. My aero bars were also of no use in the gusting winds. If I wanted to remain in control and on my bike, I was going to have to ride in the upright position.
Usually I like hills. I can push myself to the top because I know there’s relief once I get there. Not on this day. The wind was so strong it would start to push you backwards if you stopped peddling.
The bike provided no form of relief. Coasting was out of the question. So, with 5 miles left, I found some relief in a Port-a-Potty. Not the kind of relief you’re anticipating. I needed some privacy to shed the sports bra that was digging into my shoulders and making the already painful ride, excruciating. I made it back to transition and more than ready to get off the bike.
While leaving transition off the bike and into the run, I gave a volunteer the “Yes, I’m crazy but I’m not quitting now” look. She just smiled and gave me words of encouragement, “You’re looking good!” This woman obviously didn’t know how that in addition to my awesome triathlon skills, I’m a great actor.
By this point, I’d come to terms that there was no way I was going to run the entire 13.1 miles. I’d heard of people training and running marathons while doing a run/walk sequence. Example: Run 5 Minutes. Walk 5 Minutes. Repeat. And that’s what I did. For the first 5 Miles. But then I hit the wall. I was hurting and my legs wouldn’t move. However, I kept my momentum knowing pretzels, oranges, and water would greet me at the next mile. I made friends too. Some lunatic said it was his 3rd time doing this race. Another mad man was training for an Ironman in Mexico and this was a training race. Are all tri-athletes crazy?
I did finish the race. It was the longest 8 and ½ hours of my life.
As I struggled with myself, my conversations went something like this:
“Rachel, you’re nuts! Why don’t you quit now?”
“Ha! Quit? Never!”
“Rachel…you don’t HAVE to finish. Just throw in the towel.”
“No way! I’ve made it this far! I’m not quitting now.”
“Maybe I should quit.”
“Naw, just make it to the next water stop. They’ll have oranges. Oooh! And pretzels.”
“3 miles left. 3 miles left. Then you’re done.”
“2 miles left. Maybe you should start running again?”
“Naw! Maybe halfway through the last mile.”
“Maybe I should start running now?”
“Naw, wait until you can see the finish line. Well, maybe a little bit before you see the finish line so then it doesn’t look like you’re running just because you see the finish line.”
“Oh how nice, they’re honking and waving at me for encouragement.”
“Oh how embarrassing. I wish they’d stop honking and waving at me for encouragement.”
“And I’m RUNNING! Ooo! I see Blake! And Kristin! And Liat!”
“That was the most miserable experience of my life. I’m so glad I’m done.”
Now, wait for it….I’m considering an Iron Man. Yes, I think all tri-athletes may be predisposed to the crazy gene, including me. But someday I’d like to complete one. The Half didn’t kill me and you know what they say, “What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.”
The "Crazy Crew"
How does the Project Team deal with obscurity? In one word, humor.
Blake and I had a tight schedule, so we were up early the next morning. First stop, Mount Rushmore. The faces are HUGE! The noses alone are something like 20 feet long. To sculpt something of that magnitude would take such precision and patience. One wrong move and you'd be starting over from scratch. I applaud the men that gave so much of their time and energy to this project. What an amazing experience! 
With the day's festivities at an end, Blake and I headed to Cooke City, Montana, a city located just east of Yellowstone. We twisted and turned through the mountains with our ears continuously popping with the change in altitude. The highest point was over 9,000 feet. Iowa's average elevation? About 1,000.
It's hard to say what my favorite part of the trip has been. I'm drawn to the mountains. And yet, while I find them to be beautifully majestic (especially the snow capped ones), I find that I'm ready to get back home to the plains where my view isn't obstructed and I can see for miles. Maybe it's because I'm a planner. I like to see what coming and adjust accordingly.
