Tuesday, September 11, 2007

First Olympic Triathlon: Post 6 Failing

Not long after the 2 mile mark, the pain started.

Since high school, I've had a recurring abdomen injury. It might be a tear in some abdomen muscles. Most of the time it is fine (it does heal). But sometimes, when I run hard or do a lot of twisting motions (like a tennis serve), it will re-injure. When that happens it can hurt a lot.

It started to hurt around this point. I was kind of expecting it and I've played tennis through the pain before, so I wasn't that concerned. At this point it was only dull pain anyway. This it turns out was the least of my worries.

The roads were severely arched to let the water run off the sides. That meant that my left foot was always a little bit hirer than my right. That was driving me crazy. I started to get a stitch near my left kidney. That was irritating.

There were also turns where the road actually banked, which just exacerbated the situation. I thought about making a joke to the volunteer at one of these turns about it needing to bank to control my high speed turns but I was too tired.

At the mile 3 water station, I took a little Gatorade. I say little because this station was rationing liquids like the others.

The pain was slowly getting worse. I was still going but I was also going slower. People were passing me pretty regularly now. (I'm normally passed quite a bit so this really wasn't a surprise.)

I tried running on the other side of the road (which is the side you are actually supposed to run on). That helped a little. It made the stitch over my kidney feel a little bit better. But I was hoping for more. It turned out to be annoying when cars would come and then be confused with runners on both sides of the road. I eventually went back to the side most of the runners were on.

It was really starting to get to me that they didn't have mile markers up. The aid stations weren't set up on the mile marks and it seemed like I could just be running forever. It pretty much made it feel like there was no end in site. One lady who passed me even said something like "I wish they marked the miles". So, I wasn't the only one.

One of the guys I had seen when I completed the loop passed me around here. I was a little bit disappointed but I couldn't do anything about it.

By the time I reached the fourth water station, I was feeling pretty bad. They kept saying "just two more to go" and that seemed like forever. I dropped to a walk to drink the water (which I do sometimes). They gave me a little more than half a cup. I felt special.

When I started running again, the pain hit me all at once and I even exclaimed "Ow" (to which one of the volunteers said something inspirational like "you can do it" or "two miles left"). It was one thing for the level of pain to grow slowly but to be thrust back into it like that was not pleasant.

I had tried to memorize the race course map before the event but I was having a lot of trouble remembering what it. There would be curves in the road where I would think we should be going one way (a way that would indicate being near completion) only to see people ahead go the other. It was just hard. The "mile" between the fourth and fifth aid stations felt like it took me an hour.

When I reached the fifth water station, I knew pretty much where I was on the map. I felt somewhat heartened to know that I just had roughly one mile left. Well, I told myself that I should be heartened. My body wasn't convinced.

Having learned my lesson, I asked for two waters. To my surprise, both cups were filled nearly to the brim. I drank most of one and then felt strangely guilty about asking for two, so I tried to drink the other. I didn't come close to finishing it before getting to the trash bin where I threw it away.

I should have kept one cup of water and run with it a ways but at the time, I just automatically through the remaining water away. (It makes me a little thirsty thinking about it.

I kept telling myself, "just a mile to go". But my body understood that to mean "a whole, long, life-sucking mile".

Around a quarter mile (maybe less) after the aid station, I started feeling dizzy and nauseous. I knew that wasn't a good sign. I tried to keep going but then I really started feeling the "I'm about to pass out" feeling. That's when I knew I had to walk.

I still felt horrible but it was better than running. Since I was so close to the end, I tried to run again. After about 10 seconds, I just slowed to the point that I was walking again.

The dizziness and nausea didn't go away right away when I stopped running. I was still breathing in very fast, short breaths. It felt like I was simultaneously not getting enough air and having too much oxygen in my body. Not to mention, that I still wasn't entirely sure that I wouldn't pass out. I wasn't even sure that there was anyone still on the course (I could see for quite a ways and couldn't see anyone).

Eventually, people started appearing behind me. One lady came up to me and tried to get me going again. She said "I'm a slow runner, you can run with me". I tried to tell her that I was also a slow runner but she didn't seem to care. I didn't really think it would be wise for me to push myself anymore but I didn't really want to discuss it with a stranger. So, I tried to run with her but I couldn't keep up for more that 5 paces. As she put distance between us, I dropped back into a walk. It was nice of her to try though.

I could see a bend in the road up ahead. In a way, it was taunting me since I didn't know how much further I would have to go after it. I still felt really terrible, even walking. The lower half of my body was in pain and the top half was contemplating the benefits of throwing up over passing out.

Up near the bend I could see a couple volunteers. I thought that maybe if I leaned on a mail box for long enough, they might see and rescue me. Unfortunately, it looked like they were walking away from me.

I did eventually get closer to them and it turned out that they were taking pictures for the event. They asked me if I wanted my picture taken, I said "sure". I posed for the picture but I stayed at a walk. I didn't figure there was any point in trying to fool the visual record.

I asked them how far I had to go, and they said "just down there" and pointed to a place much farther away than I wanted it to be.

As I passed the photographers, I heard one of them say, "Let's walk back again, until we see another competitor". That explained why they had been going away from me earlier and why I was able to catch them.

I was worried then that they were going to pass me as but they were nice enough to walk slower than I was trudging along.

Not too much later, I saw Mrk coming back for me on his bike. That was a welcome sight. He gave me some Gatorade which I was very thankful for. A part of me worried that I would be DQ'd for receiving outside help but a bigger part of me didn't want to die of dehydration.

I told him that it was going pretty badly and that I wanted to find the first aid tent when I finished. (I don't know what renal failure feels like but I was feeling pretty bad, so I didn't want to risk it.) With less than a block to go and the finish in sight, he zipped off to ask some people where the first aid tent was.

There was an empty lot on the corner before the finish line. Arial and the kids were there. Frances was holding her big "YAY DADDY" sign and yelling "Yay Daddy! Yay Daddy!" over and over again. She looked very happy to see me. She was adorable. I put on as big a smile as I could manage and said something like "Yay Frances". She deserved to see a happy daddy.

It turned out to be a little difficult to find the finish line. There wasn't a big "FINISH" banner or anything. I had to ask where to go. Off on the side of the road, there was a little chute with a timing mat. I just had to go to that.

So, I walked over to the mat (I didn't feel like pretending that I had been running) and touched it.

Immediately, I asked the three volunteers (the only people over by the secluded finish "line") where the first aid tent was. Only one seemed to know. They made me stand there for a second while one of them took off my timing chip (which was fine since I didn't want to get charged for forgetting to take it off). Then one of them helped me over to the first aid tent.

I had completed my first Olympic distance triathlon. At the time, I felt disappointed that I was unable to run the whole last leg.

And you know what. I still do.

mwz

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