My official review was very complimentary towards the event, deservedly so. I just didn't want to put a bunch of stuff in my race recap about my actual race, no one really cares how I did, except for me.
Let me get the first thing out of the way: THE LAKE WAS CLOSED TO SWIMMING!!!! THE LAKE WAS CLOSED TO SWIMMING! Remember my description about the smelly lake and dry heaving and stuff? VINDICATION! They closed the lake to swimming the day before my sprint tri because of the fear of a TOXIC ALGAE OUTBREAK. I can't make this stuff up.
My initial reaction? Horrendously inappropriate and uncontrollable sobbing. Like I'd run over a pet cat or something. I mean seriously, I've had a LOT worse things happen to me in the last three years you'd think this would just roll off my back. But you would be horribly wrong.
I cried, and cried and cried and cried......My only option, according to the email from the event company, was to do the Duathlon instead. Are you freaking serious? I have not RUINED my hair in a swimming pool for three months, subjected myself to an open water swim in what felt like an ocean and risked typhoid fever the week before the event to be told I have to run an extra 5K.
Oh. No. You. Di-int.
I kept saying "I didn't train for this event." "My joints will never forgive me, I'll be in severe pain on Sunday." "I don't even like riding a bike, maybe this is the universe telling me to just forget it." Then I realized I'd have to repack my bag, and the kids bags and try to get some damn sleep.
Now I had put a TON of pressure on myself for this event. Suddenly, the weight was lifted. To be honest, I slept like a baby. But I awoke with a very confused feeling, no anchor. No A, B or C goal to achieve. NO freaking clue how I would even do.
The absolute FREEDOM I actually felt was like nothing I've ever experienced in a race. I had nothing to prove. I just had to go. My BRF even wore her "Don't think, just go" shirt, courtesy of the Another Mother Runner tribe. So appropriate. I had no other options.
I was still on the nervous side and barely choked down my breakfast. Once again, can't believe I had anything left in my colon that morning but apparently I was oh so very wrong. My compliments to the event organizers on the appropriate number of porta potties for the amount of racers.
Normally I wish there were three porta-potty sections, one for the casual pee-er, the person who empties their bladder not because they need to, but because they feel like it. No rush on their part.
Then there should be a section for the emergency peers, the people who either hold it too long or drove far enough that they're sweating bullets when they arrive.
The third section would be for people like me, the "I think I might SHART myself" line, the line that I would have needed to be in that morning, but thankfully I never really had to wait all that long.
But I digress. Must focus. I really loved getting all inked up, with my big ol' 40 on my right calf and 26 (my race number) on the left.