Oceanside 70.3 was this weekend. My race was a comedy of errors, but despite my excuses (blah, blah, blah) I was excited and ready to rock the day.
The morning was perfect to run bike and swim and break all kinds of records -- a typical amazing Southern California day. As the air gun signaled the swim start for participants in Wave 14, I dove my head into the Pacific. It was cold, but...
Until that last half mile....
Out of the water in a decent time, I jumped on my bike and took off toward the cycling portion of the race. Immediately, I could tell something was wrong with my bike. I literally sat still as the next 300 or so cyclists passed me by.
I felt just like Mr. Magoo. I couldn't see what was wrong. I was clogging up traffic. Why was I barely moving?
It was at this moment I had to make a decision. I was WAY behind my competitors. Should I stop, DNF, call the SAG wagon and jump in? Or do what my daughter and every gymnast does every time they fall -- get up and finish what they started.
I decided to be like Rach.
I got off my bike, saw the problem (a rubbing front brake), adjusted it and took off.
Suddenly things changed....
And I made the most of the next 40 miles.
T2 went fine except, you know...
But I was expecting that.
I tried my regain some ground on the run. Oceanside is deceptively hilly.
It also meanders up and down the boardwalk of the beautiful beaches. Just over 13 miles later, I crossed the finish line. Whew.
It was the racers, the spectators and those determined gymnasts that buoyed me up and helped me cross the finish line smiling and happy.
After it was all over, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
Retiring seemed like an excellent option.
However, I have some
I'll see you again, Oceanside. Ready to rumble and prepared with a tuned up bike and no lame excuses. So glad I get to do this.
But first, I need a massage. I feel a bit like