Yesterday I completed my first triathlon.
It was a sprint tri – 400m swim, 20k bike ride and 5k run. I completed in 1 hour 56 minutes. I feel really shell shocked. I am not the girl that does triathlons, I am am not an athlete. I wear a size 12 [US 10 I think]. My body fat is 23%. I weigh between 147lbs and 140lbs. I am no skinny minnie. My thighs wobble, I mean really wobble [they smack together when I do star jumps!], my arms flap when I wave.
Yesterday I completed my first triathlon.
I have to keep saying it, it doesn’t feel real. The week before I was excited, nervous, scared, anxious, sad every emotion under the sun. The day before I was quiet. Anxious. I felt like crying a lot. I did cry a bit. I painted my nails in the colour of my charity – Tyneside Rape Crisis. I laid out my kit. I went to bed early, I felt nervous. I woke up on the morning at 6am – I felt excited and wriggled about in bed to get rid of some nervous energy. I got up easily [normally it takes symbols to get me even awake]. I ate my breakfast and drank a pint of water [an equally rare occasion].
Yesterday I completed my triathlon.
I arrived, set up my transition as I practised it. I felt... different. I put on a swim cap for the first time and chatted to a woman who learnt to swim at Christmas and was nervous too. The man in charge of swimming informed the whole group when I asked if it was ok to swim on my back that ‘it’s DANGEROUS’. Nice welcome for a first timer. I had a lovely lane – mixed level of swimming ability, ages and shapes but all lovely. 8.10 to 8.30am went fast. I looked up, saw my cheering team of four and it was time to set off. My first lap felt good. Strong. The swim flew by and I was outside! Transition one was smooth, quick and I remembered where my stuff was on the rack! I got on my bike and set off fine [I was most worried about a wobble on my bike start]. The bike started a bit shaky – I was convinced I had out my shorts on the wrong way round, and my fuel bag fell off in the first ten minutes. I also saw a dead cat by the side of the road, and couldn’t go past without checking to see if it had a tag so we could go back later and take it to its owners. It didn’t L I came up the first big hill and my cheerers were there, I hopped off my bike to whip my shorts around the right way, and was undressing in the street when my Dad started shouting ‘they’re on the right way, get back on!!]. Back on, and going, the bike was ok. My computer didn’t work so I had no idea how far I had been! There were no way markers... I kept going and the end came fast. I sang *firework* out loud and thought of Magda and my rock*stars. I noticed every blue object and sent a joyful smile to Emersyn and all SMA babies.
Yesterday I completed my first triathlon.
Transition two went well too, I still felt strong and happy that my little low point of thinking *how much further??* on the bike ride was long gone. Shorts on, haribo in hand [or rather down my top!] I set off. I thought I was doing my usual plod speed of running. It was good, went by fast and the finish was 200m away! It all went by too fast. I loved having my supporters there, I loved knowing that I was moving because I CAN and because I SURVIVED and to show others will too.
Yesterday I completed my first triathlon. My race number was fifteen, the age at which I was raped. I did not plan this, just a little sign from the universe telling me *kismet* [fate] knew I would make it here. Right now I still feel in shock. I am an athlete. I am a triathlete. I wonder how long before it feels real!
Swim 400m – 14:59 min
Bike 20km– 1 Hour 02min
Run 5km – 39:24 min
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