Skip to main content

Race Review: Valley Girl Triathlon 2011

I jumped into this sport without testing the water first. No training plans, no nutrition guidelines, not even a pair of triathlon shorts to my name. I have a road bike, some clip-on aerobars, and a helmet. Essentially, a high powered engine with no break-in period. Imagine my uncertainty when, for some unknown reason, I thought competing in the elite division of Valley Girl Triathlon sounded like a good idea. I carefully racked my dinky Cannondale alongside all the expensive Orbeas, Cervelos, and QRoos more representative of the triathlon world. It wasn’t until Loran Rogers Kerrigan sauntered up with her cup of coffee in hand, sporting her aviator sunglasses, that my nerves started to calm—slightly. In fact, my introductions to my competitive elite field are what ultimately motivated me to cool it, settle in, and use what training I had to gain back my confidence. 

Still, looking out over the water of Liberty Lake, the same wave of anxiety and anticipation I used to feel in my piano competitions took over my senses. I went back to the days of waiting for my turn to perform outside the closed door, my gloved hands clasped across my chest, rehearsing my music in my head as the music notes raced across my closed eyelids. I was surprised to again see my hands clasped across my chest. This time, I shivered with cold as I waded out into the freaking cold water!

The first wave to go, we six elite ladies stood out in the water, listening to music with a good beat and catchy rhythm. You know, the kind you seek to get pumped up or when you’re feeling especially good. Finally, Phaedra Cote couldn’t stand it.

“Let’s dance!” she suggested.

Dance? Are you kidding me?!? How am I supposed to get in “the zone?”

Dancing was the last thing I thought I’d be doing. I’m not even that much of a dancer. Looking down at the water, I realized I was concealed up to my waist, and all I had to really move were my arms. So, I wiggled a little and called it good.

Off went the gun, and suddenly my racing adrenaline was unleashed.

For me, a swim is a swim is a swim. Until I can refine my stroke and technique—my assignment for this winter and spring—I’ll settle for making it out with two arms and legs intact. If I’m still breathing—a bonus.

Out of the water and onto the bike. All but one bike was gone, so I guess I wasn’t the slowest. Still, I had some competitors to eat up on the pavement. One…two…then three. Only two ladies remained ahead of me as I transitioned from bike to run.

I laugh now thinking about what I must have looked like running my bike back to the rack. Running on tired legs plus shifting sand didn’t make for a smooth jaunt off the bike. While I didn’t watch those of you who finished the Dirty Dash, I probably looked the way you did sloshing through the mud. (Only I came out cleaner.) Thankfully, no videos or pictures have surfaced on YouTube or Facebook to captivate a hungry audience on my experience. And don’t get any ideas for future races…

The run. By far my strongest leg, I overtook one of my two last competitors with the fastest split time I’ve ever run for a mile. Really? After a swim and a bike? And no knee pain. I was really beginning to like this sport, the triathlon! Around the golf course and onward to finish in Pavilion Park. Ahead, all I ever saw of Adrianne Campbell was her backside. My legs churned, my arms pumped to carry me to a second overall finish. I knew Adrianne was there to win, so I felt honored to finish right behind a woman who gave everything she had for first. Next time, though…Next time.

My competitive nature aside, the experience at Valley Girl stands out as one I hope to never forget. The friendships I made and camaraderie I enjoyed with some of the area’s leading lady competitors made me realize I have a lot to gain from competition (I mean participation) in this sport. Racing as an underdog has its perks, but next year I’ll need to demonstrate a little more improvement on the course.

Until then, my Cannondale and I will speed onward and finish the races I set out to race. I’m told it isn’t the bike, but the engine on it, that makes the wheels turn faster. This engine held up well through the seven triathlons that followed to finish out my season. (The finances ran out first.) The year of 2012 awaits, and this engine is primed, oiled, and broken in. Having said that, this engine has ears, too. Any advice, suggestions, or hand-me-downs you can grace me with won’t go unappreciated.

Thanks for reading!

Comments

  1. This time, I shivered with cold as I waded out into the freaking cold water.triathlon shorts

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My opinion...For what it's worth

My first Half Ironman 70.3 turned into Boise 29.3. I may be the only one to say that I respect the officials' judgment call on this one, because apparently, a few of my triathlete comrades lack sufficient brains themselves. The comments I'm reading on Facebook leave me pretty disturbed. Let me just put this out there: I entered this sport because it looked tough and challenging. It pushes anyone who enters these races to their ultimate limits and requires a demanding amount of time to complete the training necessary to succeed. I entered this sport because of the people. Healthy, smart, fit, inspiring, motivating. I can't think of a single person who has questioned my ability to participate in this sport. I entered this sport because anyone can do it. I passed people younger and older than me, some as old as 74. I watched one woman hobble along the run course, surely just on her first lap. She looked like her knees were going to cave in. Yet she was running. I did not ent

Pain loves misery. Misery loves company.

I remember running through complete darkness along the paved trail between Moscow and Pullman during my years studying at University of Idaho. Five years ago, my training consisted entirely of running. Cycling served as something to do on the weekends, and swimming didn’t even exist until my sophomore year. What I remember most, however, revolves around the early morning runs. I awoke at 4:30, donned my warmest clothes, started my GPS, and turned my headlamp on in preparation for eight to ten miles of farmland along a lonely stretch of highway. Running served as my outlet. I buried myself in 20+ credits of biology, chemistry, physics, and human anatomy courses to fill my time. And fill my time it did. So running every morning was my recourse to stay sane. Every. Lonely. Morning. It wasn’t until the thrill of riding my bike overtook me did I realize riding alone—training alone—hardly compared to the enjoyment of working out with other people. My dad always stressed the importance of r

How strong are your feet?

Who knew my first post in 2020 would be about the work I'm doing on my feet. Not just any work, but the work required to make them strong enough to propel me to faster running paces, the work to make them durable enough to heal up some old injuries and prevent new ones from taking hold. Jay Dicharry , a Physical Therapist and researcher in Bend, OR, says that almost all ankle, foot, and lower leg injuries can be attributed to faulty foot mechanics and a weak foot core.  I listened to him speak on a podcast called Trail Runner Nation today, and all the advice he provided me during my two personal visits with him last year rushed back in a torrent of memory. It seems fitting that his reminders would hit me like a hammer over my head when I consider the nagging foot pain that has cropped up again over the past couple of weeks. I'm going back to my toe yoga, short foot exercises, and working hard to build up the strength in my foot intrinsic muscles. Meanwhile, here's a b