Try-a-Tri Race - Report Julia Meldrum Smith (Cornwall Transit Race, August, 2006)- Pre-Race Jitters

The day after fellow Learn to Run grad and lifelong buddy Maddy Tardif announced to me at the Shelby’s Diagnosis run that we were doing the Cornwall Transit Try-a-Tri, I started my training/reading/worrying/obsessing about doing my first triathlon. Only after the Cornwall Multisport Club clinic did I stop having nightmares about knocking over bikes at the transition zone with a "domino effect". Amid the excitement at my kids’ triathlon on Saturday, I really started questioning myself and feeling sick. "Who did I think I was, anyway? I was no where near fit enough, and I was a total newbie at all 3 components. What was I thinking?" By the time I went to bed on Saturday night though, I was feeling pretty good. I really felt that it was great that my body was capable of doing this, and I was grateful for never having faced a life-threatening illness or major injury. I sort of felt obliged, as if I had no right to not challenge my body, in light of the many people who don’t have that option. That feeling stayed with me as I woke up every hour or so.

Arrival: By 8am I had parked on a side street and was riding my bike to the transition zone with my gear in my backpack. I was glad to see that there were lots of spots left beside the stantions. I was particularly pleased to see that there was room near the ends of the rows. One of my big worries was that I’d find myself wandering through the transition zone, trying to find my bike in a sea of bikes, like a little kid lost in the supermarket looking for Mommy. I set up my "territory" just like I’d been taught at the clinic, taped my gels to my bike, and set off to get body-marked. I was so excited about being marked ("My God, I’m really doing this!!) that I forgot to get my timing chip, my bathing cap, and goody bag. Figured it out in time though. (Question: Is wearing your triathlon bathing cap to Masters swim training as geeky as wearing your goody bag T-shirt on race day?)

Warm Up: I think the only thing I really warmed up was my mouth! I was so excited, I pretty much talked the ear off anyone within 5 feet of me. My friends Maddy, Christianne and I passed a gel around to pump us up while the Olympic and the Sprint started. I was a bit disconcerted when we had to leave our stuff when the Olympic was about to start, knowing that the next time I would be back to the transition zone was after my swim.

Swim: I had thought I’d be nervous waiting to start, but when the time rolled around I was just anxious to get started. I got 5 good strokes in before making a quick stop as someone cut in front of me to get on the outside; I was swimming East, they were swimming South! I had expected to get kicked, etc, but I had expected that everyone would be swimming in the same direction. Foolishly, I gasped in surprise and drank half the river. I never got my breath back after that until I burped just before the finish - then I felt great! Negotiated the carpet up the hill, and then trotted to the transition, with a HUGE grin on my face. The pouring rain made me laugh – to think I’d been concerned about whether or not my new tri-suit would dry well!

Transition Area: I scooted right up to my "territory" marked with my day-glo, lime green towel. Wiped my feet off, pulled on my "pre-rolled " socks and my running shoes with elastic laces, pinned on my number, clipped on my helmet, grabbed my bike off the rack and trotted off to the mount line, loopy grin still in place.

Bike: Cool, cool beginning: totally awesome knowing I was doing "the real thing"!! Getting on at the mount line, starting out with cheering, clapping and lots of shouts of "Go, Julia!" The girl beside me on her bike said: "I’m going to stick with you, because my name is Julie too, and all this cheering is awesome!". I felt great starting out, and rode as well as I could. The crazy grin was now a fixture on my face. Everyone was right, I was having FUN! Took all the corners like I’d just had my training wheels removed. Half way through the first loop I was starting to lag, and sucked back some strawberry-banana gel. I don’t do well with liquids sloshing around my stomach so I didn’t wash it down with water. I have only one drink-holder on my bike (stolen from my husband’s bike-thanks, Scott!) and I was carrying Powerade, which I didn’t think would taste so good with the gel. No problem though, I happen to like eating icing straight from the container! I never thought having a sweet tooth would be a benefit. A highlight of the bike was seeing my husband and our boys, standing on a street corner under a huge umbrella, cheering me on. I actually felt worthy of such a handsome bunch!

I’ve never ridden my bike so hard or so far. Somewhere on the second loop I got my second wind. Throughout the ride, friends and acquaintances cheered me on (and I them) as they passed me going the other direction (or from behind!!). Heading up the driveway at NAVCAN the second time, I did something wrong on the downshift and my chain came off. I’m surprised but it didn’t phase me at all. I just hopped off, put it back on, and took off again, wearing my greasy thumb like a badge of honour. I lost time, but not momentum. By the last portion of the second loop, however, I started to get discouraged, feeling like I was riding into the wind, no matter if I was riding east or west. When Jen Suggars (one of my heroes) zoomed past me on Edward Street, calling out encouragement as she went, I threw a mental line out to her to play the mind game with myself that she was actually towing me. It worked and sped me up and got me to the finish line.

T2: Getting off the bike, I really felt my sore bum, and my legs felt like jello. No time to feel badly though, as I racked my bike, tossed my helmet, and wimpily trotted out to the run, the cheering of the crowd kept the excitement high and the smile huge.

Run: I had planned to walk the first minute, hoping that I would make up for it by feeling rested and able to run well, but who can walk past a row of people yelling "Way to go, Julia!"? I did walk often throughout the run portion, and my calves were painfully tight. I had set my watch to a 15 and 1 interval, with the promise that I would walk the one minute so I could finish strong(ish). Those first 15 minutes were HARD, but even as I walked several times for 20 or 30 seconds, I couldn’t stop smiling. I have always found running uncomfortable, but at least now I had a good reason! After my first self-sanctioned walk break, I actually felt like I sort of hit my stride. I still took little walk breaks, but I felt pretty good. Besides, now I not only had friends slapping my hand and encouraging me, it seems I also had a watchdog at my back. If I walked for more than 30 seconds, I would hear an authoritative hand clap and a voice behind me say firmly, "Let’s go, Julia". "Okay, okay" I’d laugh, and I’d get started again. Three times that happened, and I am grateful to Chris Seguin for his nagging!

Finish Line: As I approached the finish, I could hear the music, and the cheering and whooping for those finishing. My reaction to the approach was not quite what I had imagined. I knew I wanted to have enough juice left to do a fast finish, and I knew I would feel pretty emotional, but I never imagined that I would be sad that it was going to be over. Not that I wasn’t tired, but after planning, dreaming, worrying, and training for two months, I would now be letting it go. Yeah, well, I got over that sappy feeling pretty quickly when I really did run it to the mats. I, who still think of myself as a recent Learn to Run grad, who has been the slowest swimmer at summer Masters Training, and who barely knows how to shift the gears of my hybrid bike, JUST FINISHED A TRIATHLON!!! I don’t know if it was endorphins, adrenaline, or just a major, major sense of accomplishment, but I was on Cloud Nine for hours afterward! I can’t explain to other people what an awesome feeling it was, except that I’m considering turning my body mark into a tattoo!

Postscript: The Learn to Run clinic introduced me to the awesome and super-supportive members of the Cornwall Multisport Club; I learned that I really could learn to run. From there, I felt confident enough to try out the Masters swim training, just as a way to learn a another new sport, and I was introduced to another fabulous group of people through Cornwall Sea Lions. That led to getting my kids involved in the Sea Lions multisport camp. Now my kids have done their own triathlon, and are plotting to force a neighbourhood one on their friends when our pool is done. The support, encouragement, and friendliness of all these people, many of whom are elite athletes, has been the foundation for what is now a lifestyle for my family. On February 18, 2006, I had no idea when I started that first run in the snow and wind, what an awesome change all of the club members would be making to my life. "Thank you" truly doesn’t cover it, but thank you.

Esprit Montreal Race Report Julia Meldrum Smith September, 2006

It started about 5 minutes after I crossed the finish line of the Cornwall Transit Try-a-Tri. Joelle Regnier stated so matter-of-factly, "come do the Montreal Sprint, there’s no waves for the swim, the bike and run are completely flat, it’ll be no problem". "Duh, okay", I said. It took about 2 weeks for me to actually commit though. The swim had me totally psyched out. But after the evening when marathoner Tammy Seguin told me how she started running to get back in shape after her third baby (of course she started with a 10K!!), and she inspired me with the story of Joelle’s under-four-hour Philly marathon, I went home and entered online, at 1:30 am! Of course then I had to email pal Maddy to make sure I had my partner in crime - Lord knows I wasn’t going without her.

On the day of the race, the weather was gorgeous. Maddy and I got there nice and early, because I can’t relax until I’ve got my territory all set up. (As if I actually relax anyway!) Oh boy, what a place. The half-iron man had already started, and of course I almost got in the way finding my way there. The transition zone was a big parking lot, with rows and rows and rows (and rows and rows and rows...) of bike racks. It was okay though, because the rows were numbered, there was a tree at the end of ours, and I had my day-glo towel and my bright orange surveyor ribbon to mark my spot.

Maddy and I took some time to check the place out, and of course, to shop at the booths (we each got race belts to pin our numbers on). In addition to that smart purchase, the other smart thing we did was to stand by our bikes (out of the way for once) in the transition zone, and watch (and time) the Olympic guys do their transitions from swim to bike, and to be able to actually see where the mount up line was. Turns out it wasn’t where I thought; we had to run down the road and up a hill to get there. One poor guy came running back, because he had forgotten his number. (Note to self: don’t forget your number).

Then we went to check out the swim area. I knew it was in the Olympic rowing basin, a 2 km long "murky pool" as Rob described it. As we stood near the side, looking across, we looked for the Sprint buoys (it was not an "out and back"; it was more of an out-across-and-back). Those buoys were down... WAY down. That’s when I knew I’d made a huge mistake. I really should have listened to my inner voice, the one that had been reminding me that I can only do 75 metres before I have to hang out in the shallow end. We kept telling ourselves that we could float, tread water, dog paddle. There was no shallow end here.

When we got to the start, it actually didn’t look as scary. I figured all I had to do was make it to the first buoy (a giant silver beach ball really), then I’d float on over to the other buoy (a giant orange beach ball), and then just swim that same distance again. The posted water temperature was 68 F, but it had probably gone up a few degrees by our start time of noon. 20 minutes before the start time, we got in the water for a test drive. BRRR! Of 100 women starting out, about 5 of us were without wetsuits. A second dip got us over the cold though. When the race started, we purposely waited to be last in the water, and it was great - no kicking, splashing, or drinking the water. Still, I was having a hard time to relax, breathe, and get a rhythm. I flipped over and looked up at the beautiful, blue sky, and I immediately felt really lucky. I was then able to focus on my stroke better (such as it is) and when I got to that big silver ball, I let out a whoop. The swim was truly the most amazing part for me, because I overcame my fear.

The bike portion was four laps around the race track. We were given 3 stickers to put on our bikes, so we could peel one off at the end of each lap. I was so worried that one would fall off and I’d lose track, that I put them on REALLY well. Translation: I didn’t so much peel them off as scratch a bit off the sides! I found the track to be very quiet, with only the sound of whizzing tires as EVERYONE passed me. Compared to everyone else, with their aerobars and their solid back wheels, I felt like my bike should have a basket and a bell. As an obvious newbie, I got pats on the back from a couple of stars as they zoomed past (hey thanks, drring, drring). I also got lots of encouragement from fellow Cornwall Multisport club members as they too zoomed by (thanks, Cathy, for making sure I didn’t exit too soon!). Man, I really want a tri bike!

The run portion was a struggle, but that’s nothing new for me. The first and last sections had speakers with music, which helped. At the end of the race, we had to run up and then down this big nasty bridge. At the bottom of the bridge was the other club members who had finished before me, cheering. Thanks, guys!

At the end of this race, I felt very different than I had after my try-a-tri. While I was so happy to be there, (and, I confess, quite pleased with myself for doing it!), I found myself busy planning for the next one, instead of ‘jumping the couch’. So far this year, the purpose of entering events was to motivate myself to keep up with my workouts. After this race, I found myself thinking about how to change my workouts to better prepare for the next event, a complete flip in thinking.

The day after I signed up for the Esprit Triathlon, my training schedule took a hit due to a family crisis that rendered me basically housebound. I really wished I hadn’t entered. Val Allen’s encouraging words after my first tri came back to me often: "Perseverance, determination and a good measure of inspiration are what get us through the tough times". Thanks to everyone who has encouraged me, and inspired me with their stories. Thanks, Maddy, for running with me, and for reminding me that really, all a triathlon is, is a really cool day of exercise.