Triath-a-loooony

It wasn’t really until I was bobbing up and down in the bay’s 50 degree water at 7:45 am last Sunday morning that I thought my decision to do a triathlon was absolutely crazy. I’m not sure what exactly tipped me off, it might have been the fact that I couldn’t feel my feet, that my head looked like a penis, or that the gigantic orange balloon buoys were about a million miles away, but at that moment I didn’t know what the F in my little red head had gotten me to that point.

Needless to say, it was way to late for me to do anything about the situation I had gotten myself into so off I went with 80 other girls between 25-29 and who (lets get real) were probably thinking the same thing. It was amazing. The swimming was a real crap fest but at the same time there was something glorious about feeling completely overwhelmed by the immensity of the water and the bay bridge that was looming above us. Not to mention that the survival instinct that kicks in when you are doing something as stupid as fighting your way through endless waves and women in neoprene feels really good, really human. I am glad to know that I still have that instinct after years in cities and suburban communities.

The rest of the race was a blast. Believe it or not I felt like a real athlete. Winding around the tight curves of the bike course, while having a 360 view of the bay is one of the most fun things I have ever done. Not to mention having my friends there to cheer me on and capture the event on film (flash flash flash) made it even more of an event. Especially when my good friend Jen of Eve yelled out “Move faster, I’m hungry”, the ultimate statement of encouragement. Crossing the finish line I couldn’t believe I had done it. Overall, I was and still am grateful for the whole experience; grateful to my training partner and good friend Sawyer for getting me to that day; for living in an amazing city where something like this is possible; and for being healthy enough to be able to do it. Not that it takes all that much since we did see a 65 year old drunk man finish the race, but I’m glad I put myself in these crazy situations. The next one will be with a lake swim, because seriously, I’m never swimming in the bay again.