3 weeks after my worst yet racing experience in San Francisco, I am rested, recharged and have optimism in attacking the second half of my 2010 racing season. I was once told that you learn most from the races where things go wrong, and San Francisco was filled with obstacles. I arrived in California after being back in CT for a few days, visiting family and traditionally celebrating the 4th of july (my birthday!) in Rhode Island with cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. Only a week and a half since my last race (Coteau du lac in Canada), I was feeling okay, and had some great sessions down at sea level. I was ready to race and reap the benefits of all the hard work I had been putting in week after week.
To summarize the race, the only high point was my front pack swim. Since this has been a struggle for me in the past (usually I am just off front pack), I was very excited coming out of the water and had a positive attitude as I transitioned onto the bike. However, standing in my way from mounting my bike (After a very long run to the mount line) was the fact that one of my bike shoes decided to not tag along. So, completely frustrated I scurried back into T1, found my shoe on the ground near my things, and ran out of t1 once again, one shoe on my foot, the other on my bike. Mentally from here, even though I attempted to put it behind me, I was not in a good place. All my efforts to swim up with the front girls had gone down the drain, as they were off down the road and I was in no mans land between front pack and the chase group.
As the race went on, things just kept going downhill. My legs seemed to have no power on the bike, and it was not a day when you wanted to be riding solo. The winds were brutal on the flat sections, and after getting dropped from a strong pack of riders, I kept moving backwards.
Finally, I got to the run, after what seemed like eternity, and told myself, "let's at least have a strong run today." My legs said "no" and I trudged along, dehydrated and absolutely spent. Come to find out, I had only had half a bottle on the bike of fluids which could have contributed to the nausea and feeling of passing out that I was experiencing. The last third of the run is a complete blur, and I don't remember crossing the finish line. I woke up in the med tent with my coach and boyfriend by my side, trying to feed me chicken noodle soup and gatorade. Not one of my proudest moments. The next hour was filled with agonizing stomach pain, shivers, hot flashes, tears and overall, extreme disappointment. However, the day soon ended and from being involved in the triathlon community for a few years now, I think it is safe to say that everyone has had those days. I had mine, and I moved on. The race was not a demonstration of my hard work and dedication to the sport, but the next race will be.
Now, I am in a two week block of training and am excited to race Kelowna in mid August. After San Francisco, even though I still experienced a great deal of disappointment about my race, I was able to take two weeks and casually train in Santa Barbara with Chris, be out of the Boulder bubble, and reflect on the reasons why I do the sport of triathlon and what will continue to fuel me through the seasons to come- Passion. I love this sport, and through the ups and downs I will continue to enjoy the training, racing, people I have met and most importantly, the feeling I get when I cross the finish line- whether I am first or last.
All for now,
J
