When I decided to get my feet wet in the sport of triathlon, I immediately resigned to the fact that I would always be limited to short, super-sprint distance races. Remember? I had that little problem with swimming, and felt certain that no matter how many laps I swam at the pool, I would surely never be ready for anything over 250-300 meters--especially in the open water. However, this sport has a way of changing you. . . changing your mindset and making you take a risk that you never thought would be possible (or maybe that is peer pressure?). So at the end of last season, I completed my first sprint distance triathlon and finished the 750m open water swim portion of the race with a smile on my face, and felt sure that the next season would hold more sprint distance races to increase my swimming confidence.
When the registration for the current triathlon season opened up, the hubby and I sat down and discussed some races that we both had in mind for the season in order to prioritize, budget, and work out kid-watch duties. At the time, I was focused on running and rehabing my poor Achilles, so I gave the hubby the green light to go ahead with registration for races, while I waited to see if I would even be able to run after swimming and biking. While I was resting from running, though, I was logging lots of pool time and increasing my distance each session--1 mile, 1.25 miles, 1.5 miles per swim session was not unusual for me. Although I was sad to miss out on running days, I was gaining much needed confidence in my swimming skills and endurance. Once I was cleared to run again, I began to entertain the idea of taking on a longer distance triathlon this season. The International/Olympic distance was the "next one" on the list, and I knew that there would be one in the Fall at White Lake with plenty of time to train. I also knew that the hubby was already registered for one in April, but didn't feel "ready", yet.
As the date of the Belews Lake International Distance Triathlon approached, I began to feel pressure from a few tri friends to take the leap and register. I dismissed their prodding with comments like "I'm just not ready for THAT swim distance" or "I'll be cheering you on, but YOU can freeze in the water!". Deep down I REALLY wanted to register and attempt the new distance, but I was scarred--afraid I couldn't make the swim, finish the bike, or run the run. That race was a big step, and I wasn't sure it was a step I was ready to take. The hubby began to threaten to sign me up on the sly because he knew I wouldn't do it on my own. My brother asked me if I had registered, every time I saw him. My friend with gills emailed me with encouragement.
FINALLY, after weeks of contemplating, I did it. I registered, and the anxiety began to build. Luckily I only had two weeks until race day, so the nightmares about the swim could only go on for so long, right? In an attempt to calm my nerves, we ventured out to the lake over Spring Break to get in a quick open water swim. The first two times I tried to leave the shore I became paralyzed with fear. I couldn't breathe, I felt overwhelmed, and I doggy paddled back to the shallow water to regroup. I finally got in about 500m and called it quits. Only time would tell if it was enough to keep me calm on Saturday morning.
The night before the race, the hubby and I made the hour drive to the race site to pick up our race numbers and see the lake for the first time. I tried to knit away my fears as we drove, but I kept focusing on the thought that I would be swimming in 68 degree water for almost a mile the following morning. As we stood on the dock and tried to spot the bottles that were marking the course, I swallowed back fear. Finally, the hubby saw the tears in my eyes and asked what I was so afraid of. I couldn't tell him. What was I afraid of? I was afraid that I would get in the water and forget how to swim, how to breathe. . . He looked at me and said, "I really don't know a nice way to say this, but sometimes you just have to get the ---- over it".
Guess what.
He was right.
Race morning arrived and we left before sunrise. Chatting with the hubby and my brother in the car helped to keep my nerves at bay. When we arrived at the race site, I stood in my transition spot and looked at the calm, clear water. As I fought back tears, Coach E looked at me and said, "Remember, the longest distance in ANY race is the six inches between your ears." At that moment, I knew I could do it.
to be continued. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment