My first triathlon and the details you never asked for…

First off let me tell you this was the most random thing I’ve ever decided to do. Why? Because when I chose to do this I was in Philadelphia on a trip with my client, I was just informed I was 39% body fat (considered obese), I hadn’t ever ran over 7 miles competitively, and it was the middle of winter. Apparently, there’s just something about being in the city of the underdog, and watching Helene Neville break the record of most consecutive miles on the art museum stairs makes you want to do something bigger with your own life.

I came back and I started training, in all seriousness I went in blind. I knew my body was capable of anything but I had no idea where to start. I worked out twice a day, usually lifting and some form of cardio to get me started. But my training isn’t the focus of this article, I want to tell you all about the most miserable, and most rewarding day I’ve had.

For the weeks leading up to Peaks to Prairie I had every nightmare I could imagine, from forgetting equipment, to breaking legs, and oversleeping my insomnia was worse than usual, and for me that’s impressive. Also, my emotional state was less than ideal, I cried 5 times the day before. What did I cry about? I thought I would fail, I was happy about the support I had coming in via text, I realized I had such amazing friends, literally I cried about everything.

Finally, the morning of the race I woke up after 4 hours of sleep and drank a pot of coffee, and cleared my head. Okay, so maybe I spent the morning praying that God pushed me through this run, but either way I needed to finish this because I had talked it up too much.

The question I hated most leading up to this was, “Are you ready?” but the morning of the race after I had already been asked the same question 387, I had my answer. Nothing can ever prepare you for a race you’ve never done, and a task that required you to push your body further than you have before, but I knew I had trained, and I knew I had a will to finish.

The gun shot, and we took off on our 9.3 mile trek down Beartooth Pass, I was running in new shoes, because my running shoes had caused me extra injuries. We took off, and there must have been something about that mountain air, because I felt free. My running buddy (J. Weeding) and I took off not worrying about our placement or pace. We had guessed our average pace would be around 11:30 per mile, and much to our surprise we came in well under that. In case you’ve never tried running 9.3 miles without music I would suggest you try it sometime. There’s so much life to think about during that hour and a half, and there was so much time to mentally focus, and lay things down. I laughed when I looked at Jess and said, “I’ve mostly been praying and focusing on my breathing this whole time” she said she was doing the same thing, and before we knew it, the running was done. I made it through with just a squeeze of huckleberry hammer gel, so by the time I finished I was parched

I ran into the solo triathlon chute and grabbed my gear for the bike leg. For anyone who hasn’t ever tried to shimmy on a bike leotard in front of a crowd I suggest you try it for the sake of humor. I was already a bit shakey from running, and trying to shove my body into a spandex suit on wobbly legs wasn’t ideal. I threw the rest of my gear and ran across the timing mat to start biking. About 50 yards down the road my camelback wasn’t working, and que my first panic, because I wasn’t prepared to bike 49 miles of hills without liquid. A little later down the road I finally make my pack work, and as soon as the electrolytes hit my stomach I was throwing up at the base of the first of many hills. I started running with my bike up the hill because I wasn’t about to be seen falling over on top of already puking in the first mile of the bike leg. I got to the top of the hill, and jumped back on my bike to keep going. Let me just say the first 21 miles of biking took entirely too much convincing to make me finish. I think I started praying for any car to stop and offer me a ride, and thank God no one did because I probably would have accepted it at that point. My knee was the size of a cantaloupe, my mouth tasted like lemon lime vomit, my butt was already bruising and the blisters were excessive. I ended up puking two more times, and it never failed it was always when I needed the most momentum going uphill. I must have looked as awful as I felt because the road monitor checked on me four times to make sure I actually wanted to do this. The last time he asked I was 19 miles away from the end and I looked at him and said, “I made it this far, I’m gonna finish this fucker.” Excuse my vulgarity but that was exactly where my mind was at this point. I was biking into a headwind that was overpowering me, and I no longer had any bikers in my line of sight.

This is exactly where my mindset shifted, because my body was feeling great, and it wasn’t about the competition it was about finishing something that two hours ago I thought I would fail at. So I picked up the pace only to find my mother stopping along the road 10 miles away cheering me on to finish. I embraced this crazy Puerto Rican fan club, and hustled to finish. I entered the park, only to see a handful of my friends and family cheering me on. I think God knew I needed the love at this point because seeing them pushed me to move forward.

I dismounted my bike and as my legs shook the trainer stopped me to take precaution.

Are you okay? Do you want to sit down? How about some water? And electrolytes?

Let me tell you she was super unimpressed when I said, “I just drank electrolyte water the last 49 miles, and I’m about to sit in my kayak. Does that work for you?” Before she could answer I ran to my kayak and let the team help me into the water. The dock team laughed when I said I puked three times getting there and I was just ready to finish this thing.

I knew my time wasn’t amazing, but I also knew that my time was under what I had projected. I did the last leg of the race knowing I was about to finish something great and just enjoying the 10 miles of paddling down the Yellowstone. I got to the end and glided into the catch crew, I ran across the finish line to see a support team of people who had waited for me to finish.

My heart was so full, I couldn’t believe all the support I had. I placed 2^nd and that was more than enough for me, because I was so happy that I was even able to finish. I reminded myself constantly throughout the race that there was somebody out there that would have loved to complete this race, but life prevented them from doing that. I had written my Uncle Collins name on my hand and Philippians 4:13 on the other hand. Why? Because I often think of my belated uncle, and how he loved being outside and driving his mule around, or mobbing in his electric wheelchair, and I think if life hadn’t had other plans for him, he would’ve never found his way inside a house. I wrote Phillippians 4:13 on my other hand to remind me that I can do all things through Christ, and even if I didn’t have this race, He did.

Both of these played as a constant reminder throughout my race, I was able to look down and keep powering forward. The truth was I had so much self doubt that my mind did more damage than good throughout the race, my body never quit but my mind tried to so many times. I know now that training and physical strain is so much more than training and being in shape. It’s a total mental game.

At the end of the day, looking at how awful the day was between the blisters, and vomit, and every other stop I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

I achieved something not everyone can say they’ve done. I had a great attitude towards the end of the race, as I surprised myself, and everyone that tagged along, and the feeling of crossing the finish line was worth every struggle and ounce of self doubt I had. I pushed my body beyond its limits, and even though I’m still paying for it now, I know that I am so much more capable than I ever would have expected.

So next time you stop yourself from pushing forward, and moving beyond your limits, reevaluate your decisions because the only thing stopping yourself is you.

 

Until next week,

 

Julissa