This is it -- the official rundown of my triathlon experience! I know many of you (well, at least my parents) have been anxiously awaiting this post, so here it goes.
My Nationals experience actually started a day before I left for OKC when I arrived home to discover my beloved bike had been stolen (chain and all). This was probably one of the least articulate moments of my life; most of the phone call to my father consisted of four-letter words. My next flurry of phone calls went out to my lovely friends and coworkers, who made sure that I would have a bike to take to OKC. I also put out the SOS to the rest of the racers in Oklahoma and was assured that a bike would be waiting for me there.
Saturday was a really inspiring day. I got to watch several races, including an Ironman distance race. I saw people overcome pain and fatigue to accomplish something truly amazing. As the sun set over Lake Hefner I had a moment of fear and panic and excitement as I thought about what I had to do the next day. I knew full well that compared to some of the folks I had seen that day I would have it easy. However, I also reflected on the last year and all of the bad luck and change and preparation I had endured and knew that the biggest challenge would be not doubting myself.
I arrived at Lake Hefner on Sunday while it was still dark. I nervously set up my area and tried not think about all of the things that could go wrong. When it was time for my wave I set foot in the lake -- and promptly felt my feet sink into the thick red clay. As the starting horn went off I started to slip and stumble my way down the shore until it was deep enough to swim. And I swam. And swam. And swam. It felt like that first buoy kept getting farther and farther -- and it actually did, because I missed it twice. By the time I finally hit that first buoy I had a fleeting thought of quitting right then and there; I was only a third of the way there and felt myself getting more and more frustrated. Something, though, told me to keep going and I did. I hit the second buoy, then the third. I found a section where I could reach the bottom of the lake and I walked. I know for some that defeats the purpose and spirit of a race, but let's be honest -- I wasn't winning any awards here. My only goal was to finish, and the little burst of walking is what got me through. I can't even begin to describe the relief I felt when I waded out of that water. I had completed my first open water swim.
The bike ride was quite uneventful, considering it wasn't my bike. I only had about 15 minutes to get comfortable riding it the night before, so I was relieved not to run into any major problems. As I completed the ride and came back into the transition area I saw some folks who had set up next to me already wearing their medals and packing up to go home. I had to force myself to ignore all that and stay focused -- only three more miles to go!
The last leg was smooth. After the exertion of the swim I just didn't have it in me to do more than walk, but I made sure to walk fast. One of my teammates cheered me on with bubbles, and at the end of the course I caught up with another teammate. We went down the finishing chute together to the cheers of CMC. And suddenly, that was it. I had completed another triathlon.
Normally I would have gotten a medal at the finish line, but they had run out and gave me a nice shirt instead. However, a very special teammate of mine who had spent most of Saturday night seeing and hearing how scared I was decided to do something about it. As I was preparing to leave she said, "You deserve a medal for doing such a wonderful job" and hung her medal around my neck and gave me a huge hug. It was a seemingly innocent moment but it meant so much. The folks at CMC were so amazingly fun and supportive to every single athlete that weekend, yet I was aware that I was way out of my league. At that moment, though, it didn't matter. I felt like I had really done something special; her acknowledgement made it that much more real. It was with that indescribable feeling in my heart that I drove home, alternately basking in my glory and planning how early I could go to bed and manage not to fall sleep at work the next day.
So, to wrap this up I wanted to thank all of you who sent kind words and support my way -- it meant the world to me!
My Nationals experience actually started a day before I left for OKC when I arrived home to discover my beloved bike had been stolen (chain and all). This was probably one of the least articulate moments of my life; most of the phone call to my father consisted of four-letter words. My next flurry of phone calls went out to my lovely friends and coworkers, who made sure that I would have a bike to take to OKC. I also put out the SOS to the rest of the racers in Oklahoma and was assured that a bike would be waiting for me there.
Saturday was a really inspiring day. I got to watch several races, including an Ironman distance race. I saw people overcome pain and fatigue to accomplish something truly amazing. As the sun set over Lake Hefner I had a moment of fear and panic and excitement as I thought about what I had to do the next day. I knew full well that compared to some of the folks I had seen that day I would have it easy. However, I also reflected on the last year and all of the bad luck and change and preparation I had endured and knew that the biggest challenge would be not doubting myself.
I arrived at Lake Hefner on Sunday while it was still dark. I nervously set up my area and tried not think about all of the things that could go wrong. When it was time for my wave I set foot in the lake -- and promptly felt my feet sink into the thick red clay. As the starting horn went off I started to slip and stumble my way down the shore until it was deep enough to swim. And I swam. And swam. And swam. It felt like that first buoy kept getting farther and farther -- and it actually did, because I missed it twice. By the time I finally hit that first buoy I had a fleeting thought of quitting right then and there; I was only a third of the way there and felt myself getting more and more frustrated. Something, though, told me to keep going and I did. I hit the second buoy, then the third. I found a section where I could reach the bottom of the lake and I walked. I know for some that defeats the purpose and spirit of a race, but let's be honest -- I wasn't winning any awards here. My only goal was to finish, and the little burst of walking is what got me through. I can't even begin to describe the relief I felt when I waded out of that water. I had completed my first open water swim.
The bike ride was quite uneventful, considering it wasn't my bike. I only had about 15 minutes to get comfortable riding it the night before, so I was relieved not to run into any major problems. As I completed the ride and came back into the transition area I saw some folks who had set up next to me already wearing their medals and packing up to go home. I had to force myself to ignore all that and stay focused -- only three more miles to go!
The last leg was smooth. After the exertion of the swim I just didn't have it in me to do more than walk, but I made sure to walk fast. One of my teammates cheered me on with bubbles, and at the end of the course I caught up with another teammate. We went down the finishing chute together to the cheers of CMC. And suddenly, that was it. I had completed another triathlon.
Normally I would have gotten a medal at the finish line, but they had run out and gave me a nice shirt instead. However, a very special teammate of mine who had spent most of Saturday night seeing and hearing how scared I was decided to do something about it. As I was preparing to leave she said, "You deserve a medal for doing such a wonderful job" and hung her medal around my neck and gave me a huge hug. It was a seemingly innocent moment but it meant so much. The folks at CMC were so amazingly fun and supportive to every single athlete that weekend, yet I was aware that I was way out of my league. At that moment, though, it didn't matter. I felt like I had really done something special; her acknowledgement made it that much more real. It was with that indescribable feeling in my heart that I drove home, alternately basking in my glory and planning how early I could go to bed and manage not to fall sleep at work the next day.
So, to wrap this up I wanted to thank all of you who sent kind words and support my way -- it meant the world to me!
Awesome job, Meredith. You kept yourself going and you finished, and by golly that IS worth a medal (and also a t-shirt).
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