Run Bike Run

I'm officially a duathlete! Today I completed the Vassar Brothers Medical Center Duathlon in Lagrangeville, NY: 1-mile run, 14-mile bike, 3-mile run. I didn't exactly complete it with flying colors, but I finished still breathing and able to walk without assistance, so...score! No photos (if I can find official ones online I'll post them), because I thought I was going to be alone, and what would I do with the camera while I raced?

But as it turned out, I wasn't alone! You guys, my mom came with me! (If you don't get the significance of that, you may need to check my previous post. Don't worry. It's pretty short.) I wouldn't have had the nerve to ask her to get up with me at 4:45 a.m., but she didn't want me doing this on my own, so she volunteered to come along. I can't even tell you how much she calmed my nerves. There is a super-short list of people in my life whose very presence makes me feel like everything is going to be ok. My mom is on that list.

Despite road closures, highways obscured by darkness and low clouds, an impressive swarm of hungry mosquitoes, and an unfamiliar registration and preparation process, I was checked in and ready to go in plenty of time. This left me a little time to make some observations about the rest of the 400+ competitors:

• Performance fabric. Nearly everyone there (literally everyone but me, I think) was wearing some space-age fabric or another, designed to "breathe," wick away moisture, and possibly travel through time. What was I wearing? A Coke t-shirt I bought at Target.
• Impressive stretching regimens. I saw people doing some crazy stuff: some with legs twisted every which way, some bending backward way farther than seemed necessary, some lying on their backs with people pushing on their legs. It got my mom all excited. "Do you need me to push on your legs? I could push on your legs!" I assured her that I was ok.
• Toned glutes. I hope this isn't inappropriate, but it's an observation I couldn't help but make, what with all the spandex around. These runner/biker types have some perky butts. This aspect of my physique would have been enough to betray me as a wannabe had it not been for the Coke t-shirt, which I chose because it is long enough to cover the evidence.

Before long, though, I had to line up with everyone else, quell the butterflies, and start with the weird electronic sound that I'm thankful wasn't a gun or air horn.

The 1-mile run was a little unsettling. I can run a mile without too much difficulty, but I've never attempted a race on my own before, and I had some trouble pacing myself. The adrenaline didn't help. (Am I going too fast I'm going too fast I should slow down Now everyone's passing me I should speed up Am I going too fast...) I forgot to start my watch when I left, so I have no idea how fast I ended up going, but I was maybe third to last.

I found the whole idea of the "transition" intimidating, but my mediocrity in the first run worked to my advantage: nearly all the bikes but mine were already gone. :) I still felt unsettled, but off I went.

The bike portion consisted of two laps on a 7-mile loop. I struggled along at the end of the pack, flustered and stressed, until about halfway through my first loop. At that point some volunteers along the road started cheering for me and asserting that I was "doing awesome." This obvious lie made me laugh, which made them laugh, and just then the fastest competitors began to fly by me on their second lap. I laughed again, reminded myself that I wasn't going to get anywhere CLOSE to winning this thing, and relaxed. I started to enjoy the wind in my face, the feeling of freedom, and the chance to push my comfort zone a little.

I finished the 14 miles in a little more than an hour, racked my bike, took a quick drink, started the three mile run...and almost quit right there. My legs felt like lead. I've never experienced anything like it. I'm sure my already not-picture-perfect gait looked more like a waddle until I loosened up about 1/2 mile later, but it did eventually wear off.

And so, just under two hours after my flustered start, I dragged my sweaty, aching self across the finish line. Everything hurt: my entire rib cage (why?), my neck, my hips...my thighs were pretty seriously done. Almost everyone had finished and headed over to the bagels and protein shakes, and the volunteers had started winding up the bright orange tape marking the course. But there was my mom, jumping up and down and waving her hands over her head, shouting, "Yay, Joci! Go, Joci!"

I love my mom.

I finished ahead of maybe 10 people. Probably they had leg cramps or mechanical issues with their bikes that overpowered the magic of their performance fabrics.

So it's done! I have to tell you...I thought this item on my list wasn't going to happen. It's kind of a thrill. :)

What's next?