Help! Is there a triathlete in the building? Why, Yes. Yes, there is.

I love that one of my hobbies is triathlons. It sounds very cool to me. I’m proud to say that I am a triathlete. And as of last Sunday, I am. I mean, officially. I was in a real race and I know the secret hand shake (which believe me is way better than the Skull and Bones hand shake. Don’t ask me how I know.). The best part about it is that last Sunday, surprisingly, turned out to be one of the best days of my life.

I woke up at 5AM despite a mostly sleepless, anxious night. But instead of feeling groggy and grumpy I woke feeling energized and excited. And prepared. Besides laying out everything I needed the night before, I knew I was ready for this race. I decided in March that I would be a triathlete. I put in hours of training, almost every single day (well, except for that one time…) and I was ready to show myself what I could do. I was on the road at 0525, and I had the entire city of Detroit to myself. Eventually, I started to see other racers on the road, identified by the bikes strapped to their trunks and the “26.2” stickers on their bumpers. [Note to self: pick one of those up so I will really fit in at the next triathlon.] The point is, there was a line of us speeding together, heading to the same destination, and it was like we could feel the camaraderie building before the race had even begun. I was already having fun. By the time I pulled into the park it was 0630. I drove past a stream of cars and started feeling nervous. Extremely nervous. ‘Which way to the bathroom’ nervous.

As it turns out, triathlon competitions are the friendliest places on earth. I had heard this before, but I didn’t realize how supportive, helpful and cool everyone would be. I showed up to the park by myself. Twenty minutes later I had made fast friends with some of the athletes, many of whom offered helpful tips for my first race. We pumped each other up as a group before our waves were called into the lake.

I got into the water and my whole body was tense with emotions. The horn went off and it took me less than 60 seconds to ask myself what I had gotten into. I was wearing a wetsuit, which adds a surprising amount of buoyancy. My mother, who could drown in 5 feet of water, would float with one of those things on. But I was scared. I was getting kicked in the face, elbowed in the face, and swam over. I was kicking people in the face, elbowing people in the face, and apparently swimming under them. And for the first time in my life I became incredibly polite and started apologizing and wasting my breath. What had those people done to me? I am not that nice!

I couldn’t see anything without lifting my head out of the water and staring into the sun looking for a bright orange buoy to swim towards. My breathing was out of control and oh Jesus, I still had to bike 20 kilometers and run 5 kilometers. I swam as hard and as fast as I could. I wasn’t really competing with anyone. I just wanted to make it back to the shore and get my stupid feet on the stupid ground. Whose idea was this anyway?

I finally got out of the water and felt exhausted. It took me 11:22 to complete the swim, but it felt like I was already 40 minutes into an intense cardio session. I heard my family cheering for me and I felt this overwhelming need to impress them. I mean, it was Father’s Day and they drove an hour just to watch me race. I couldn’t disappoint them.

I set out for my ride and was still just racing myself. It felt good. When I took my first down hill I was going 34.2mph. It was brilliant. Scary as hell, but absolutely amazing. People give Michigan a bad name but this course had 13 miles of beautiful scenery, fresh air, and friendly locals standing at the end of their long driveways cheering all 550 of us on. Of course, all the hills I went down I had to come back up. The second half of this leg (though the exact same road) was a little less beautiful. My main focus was the pavement as I struggled up those ridiculous hills. I mean, honestly, what is the point of hills like this? My next race will be in Kansas. Do they even have lakes there?

At this point I did start competing with others. I tried to pick specific people out and get them. You know me, and my dislike for skinny bitches… I found one. And she was listening to an MP3 player, which was a blatant infraction of Article 24, Paragraph 6, Clause 3. Well, not today, skinny bitch. Not today. I beat her up the hill and felt euphoric. That one was for all the women who eat red beans and rice for dinner. At the home stretch I gave it everything I had and that skinny bitch passed me. And there was not a damn thing I could do about it.

I got back to the transition area and threw up in my mouth (you’re welcome). I was light headed and sick and it was pure acid bile. If I let myself throw up I wasn’t sure I would be able to stop. And then I thought about all the other racers and made a command decision. Get back in my belly! I took off for my run and saw that I passed Skinny Bitch. Eat it sucka! She started gaining on me and I kept up with her fueled by a little Jay Z coming off of her iPod. Wait a minute! Skinny bitches don’t listen to Jay Z. Shouldn’t she be listening to Jewel or James Taylor? Then Skinny Bitch took off and I let her go. Cheater!

I cannot begin to describe to you the pure exhaustion I felt at this leg. There were hills (slight as they were), but the event description said FLAT ROAD. They also promised there would be water stations at every mile marker. Liars! Cheats and Liars, all of them. By the time I did get my water, (fine! At the mile and a half mark), I grabbed two cups, thirsty and overheated, I threw one cup of water in my face. This was not a good idea. The water actually went up my nose. In the midst of my exhaustion, I thought I was going to drown. As if the last hour had all been an illusion and I was still in the lake. Help!

When I finished the race I knew I left everything I had on the course. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even bend over to remove the strap from my ankle. I couldn’t speak and had to mime drinking to be pointed in the direction of the water station. But I did it and knowing that felt incredible.

What I love about having completed this triathlon is that I set a goal for myself and I achieved it. I mentioned in an earlier blog that one has to become the person one wants to be, or accept the person one is. I feel like I am becoming the person I want to be. To me, it is a process. I finished a sprint triathlon, but it’s more than that. I know I am capable of pushing my body and I want to know what’s next. I am signed up for two more sprint triathlons this summer and changed my Chicago triathlon to an Olympic Distance, twice what I did on Sunday. I thought the sprint was all I could do, but now that I’ve done it, I know I can do more.

While I want to feel fulfilled, I’m not sure that I ever want to feel content. I hope I will not stop wanting more… of anything. I think about how this pertains to my life in general: in my personal life and desire to find passion, friendship, and love with another person; to my intellect and desire to continue to learn, experience, and improve; and in my career and desire to be innovative, sharp and financially secure. Maybe it seems bizarre that I can get all of that from participating in one simple race. But this triathlon has reignited my drive to be a better person, and not just in the shape of my legs or size of my pants. I see it influencing many parts of my life. And I hope that by writing about it, I have influenced some part of yours.