Delayed Dreams

I had my first two triathlons of the season this month. It hasn’t been a good start for me. Between equipment issues and Mother Nature, my races have been a disappointment.

June 6 was the Pigman. I was excited because I had finally learned to swim and I knew this would improve my overall time. The water was choppy, though, and I got off course. I improved my swim time by 2:14, but I thought I could have taken four minutes off.

The bike did not get much better. Twice I had to stop on the course because my aero bottle was coming off. I tried to finish strong, but for the first time, I did not improve my overall time from the year before.

I was depressed. I really wanted to have a strong performance heading into the Hy-Vee Tri, my first Olympic distance. I had to shake it off and just chalk it up to having a bad day. I didn’t know what a bad day was until I went to Hy-Vee…

I had gone to Des Moines early because they let you do practice swims at the race site on Friday. I had put many hours in the pool, but I still feared that 1500-yard swim. After a one-hour lightning delay, they let us practice on the 600-yard course they had set up. I did the course once and didn’t feel tired so I did it again. It gave me a lot of confidence.

I volunteered at the Kids’ Clinic that afternoon (a welcome diversion) and tried to keep myself relaxed, rested and hydrated. I had to take my bike to transition the night before the race and for the first time, I saw the swim course. It looked really far and my heart pounded. The nerves were back.

It had rained every day and the race site was a muddy mess. So it was a welcome sight to get up race morning and see no rain. I felt alive with excitement. The day I had waited for was finally here. An hour before the race a voice came over the loudspeaker…an important announcement. A storm was on the way so they were shortening the race from an Olympic distance to a sprint. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I had been training for six months for this one race and now it was gone. I was no longer nervous, but I would have to refocus. I still had a race to do.

I was starting in the second to the last wave so it was a long wait. Club prez Rosie and I thought it would be fun to be the last two people to start in our wave. Not such a good idea for me as the next wave of men was quickly swimming on top of me. I kept running into women who were doing the breaststroke and the backstroke. Two female backstrokers crashed heads right before I slammed into them. I was just trying to find a lane to swim in all this congestion. I finally made it out of the water.

It was windy and rainy on the bike. As I made the turnaround I tried to pick up the pace. I could hear thunder so I knew I had to get back. A few miles from the finish I was changing gears and my chain came off. “Are you kidding me?!” I got off the road and proceeded to fight with the chain in the rain. Bikes were flying by me. People were yelling out “Are you okay?” and I gave them a friendly wave.

I was back on the bike, but as I pulled into transition, the storm let loose. I was pelted with rain. I thought it was hail at first because it hurt as it struck my skin. It was mass chaos—people were grabbing their bikes and running for cover. I could hear sirens and see lightning. All my triathlete brain could think, though, was to pull on my rain-soaked running shoes, grab my hat, race belt and run.

The “Run Out” sign was gone so I was momentarily confused. I ran out of transition and headed up the carpet. I had to dodge people in my path and I didn’t know where to turn. “Where do I go?!” I screamed out and someone pointed towards the grandstand. I turned into the grandstand, but my path was blocked by cones. “You need to go to the finish line,” the volunteer said. No, my mind raced, I’m not done! They were closing the course and I was supposed to seek shelter. I want to finish! Please let me finish!!

I headed over to the finish line and they told me to take off my own timing chip. Just like that, it was over. I started to cry. Someone placed a plastic packet containing a medal into my hand. For the past year I had dreamed of running down the blue carpet at Hy-Vee, racing into the grandstand full of cheering people, having a medal placed around my neck. Now I didn’t even want the medal; I hadn’t earned it.

As I huddled under a tent, cold, wet and shivering, I could hear them announcing runners as they came in. The runners that were already out on the course got to finish. I would never get to hear my name called. I couldn’t help but think if my chain had not come off or I had been a little faster, I would have been out on the run course when the storm hit. Instead, I had my first DNF.

Fortunately, club member Heath had his big truck parked at the site so he could take some of the MWXers and our bikes back to the hotel. Otherwise, we would have to ride our bikes back to our vehicles that were parked at the mall. A visit to the Cheesecake Factory soothed my emotional wounds and Rosie talked about adversity making me stronger.

Rosie reminded me that there are things I can’t control (like the weather) and every time we race, anything can happen. Things don’t always go according to plan. I was looking forward to my “moment in time” but maybe it wasn’t meant to be—at least not that day. I would have other moments and maybe this experience would make me stronger, tougher and able to face whatever came my way. Dreams don’t die; they just get delayed!