This is one woman’s experience at the Pigman Triathlon…
Rosie said I had to share the dream I had before the Pigman. In the dream I arrive at the park super-early so the transition area is not open yet. They tell me I can go watch a movie in this big tent while I wait. I apparently get into the movie because the next thing I know, it’s after 7:00 and the transition area is closing! I sneak to the back of the transition area and throw my bike over the fence. I then realize I don’t have my race numbers with me. Talk about waking up in a cold sweat!
This year’s Pigman was only my second tri ever (I was signed up for last year’s Trihawk but I got injured during an incident with some raccoons, but that’s another story). I was determined to better my time.
As I stood on the beach with the old ladies group (over age 39) I tried to channel the inner dolphin (or other sea creature) inside me. Things were going fine (although slow) until the next wave caught up to me. Suddenly a group of young girls in pink caps were all over me. One girl came over top of me, grabbed my shoulder and pulled down. Maybe she wasn’t trying to drown me, but I was about ready to lay the smackdown right there in Palo lake!
Next I jumped on the bike, where I would “ride like the wind.” Men in tri bikes went flying by me like I was standing still. On the way back I was actually passing people going UP the hill, which I didn’t understand but I told myself I must have powerful legs (a theory that would be disproved on the run). I topped the hill and was passing someone going downhill when a SUV going the other direction decided to cross the centerline. I envisioned “she died at the Pigman” being written on my headstone. I held on for dear life and went between the SUV and the other bike with precious room to spare.
It was back to transition. I hopped off the bike but my once “powerful” legs felt weak and wobbly. I had to sit down to put on my running shoes. The voice in my head was screaming, “No! You are taking too long in transition. Get up!” The other voice, known as my body, said “Shut up! I need a minute.”
I knew the run was not going to be pretty. As I ran by my friends I yelled out “Shoot me now!” only half-joking. I tried to think about the ice cold beer that was waiting for me when I finished. It was getting warm out and I felt dehydrated and weak. “You can pass out but you are not stopping!” my inner voice said again. I’m starting to hate that inner voice. Whenever I would feel like stopping I would look down on my arm where I had written in marker “Never Quit.”
The thing I wrote for the announcer was that I just wanted to finish in time to get some pizza. This year I got pizza! Okay, it looked like they had more pizza this year, but it’s the little things that make me happy.
Final results: I did better on the swim and the bike, slower on the run and T2. I was pretty disappointed that I didn’t show more improvement. Time has a way of changing your perspective, though. I thought about all my fellow club members I saw on the route and how they waved and yelled encouragement to me. I thought about how proud I felt wearing my green team jersey. Things WERE different this year. I was part of something. I had a group of people who were supportive and who shared a common goal. I may never get to win a pig, but this sport has allowed me to meet a great group of people. They constantly inspire me and motivate me to “keep tri-ing.” For that, I already feel like a winner.
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