Initiation

We were lined up at the indoor aquatic center like kids waiting to climb the ladder and jump off the high dive.  Only, there was no high dive, we weren't kids, and this was a triathlon, people.

My first triathlon was a super sprint with a 250 yard pool swim, 7 mile bike, and 2 mile run.  I had "trained" in as much as I had gone on a couple of group bike rides out of our local bike shop (thank GOD for some very patient riders willing to help a newbie!), swam some laps at LA Fitness and tried to run more than I walked around the lake at our local park.  This was getting my feet wet, quite literally, into the sport and the experience would be unlike anything I'd ever done before.

The ritual of marking bodies with sharpies (hello, I do *not* want my age on my leg thank you very much?!) was an experience.  This was no USAT event.... "How fast ya think you'll swim it?" and that was the time they wrote on my arm.  We lined ourselves up, scouts honor, according to a best guess at swim finish time, and we were off.

I had friends there watching whose son was going to compete in the kids tri (and likely be much faster than I could ever be!).  It was a little unnerving to know I had an audience, but a comfort to see familiar faces as well.

The fastest swimmers started and I was happy to have a few minutes to gauge how exactly this would work.  The race coordinator put them in the pool one at a time, and started each in succession, spaced by a length of the pool.  I could handle that.

I flew threw the swim with no problems, zig zagging down for 250 yards.  I got out of the pool at the ladder, got a high five from our friend's son, Micah, and made my way out the door and around the building to transition.  As I hit my watch, I remember thinking, "Oh my gosh, I'm actually doing this."  What a rush!

In transition, I completely lost my bike. As in... ran up and down the middle for a few minutes until I could get my bearings.  That was panic inducing, but a learning experience nonetheless.  Don't lose the stinkin' bike.

I dried my feet, loaded up my shoes, made my way to the bike out and clipped in.  The whole process took about 30 seconds, but the entire time I was chanting in my head "Don't tip over, don't tip over, people are watching, stay on the damn bike, don't fall...."

We rode on a very poorly marked course for 2 laps totally 7 miles.  I was so conservative on that ride because I did not want to wreck!  Back into transition, I ripped the bike shoes off my feet, replaced them with running shoes and grabbed my race belt/number, and I was off to run out.

The run was still very hard for me at this point, and I remember thinking there was no way I was going to be able to run straight through.  I pushed through and did what I could.  The effort required by the first two disciplines really weighed on my legs, but I managed sub 12 minute miles on the run with some walking thrown in.  I couldn't be too upset about that.

I crossed the finish, received a finisher medal and had an overwhelming sense of... I did it.

I was already mentally prepping myself for the next challenge.  Hooked, to say the least.  I had been initiated.  I became someone new that day.  I was a triathlete.