I competed in my first Half Ironman yesterday in Chisago Lake, Minnesota. It was wavy, awesome, seaweedy, long, epic, butt hurting, so much smiling, rainy, windy, happy, amazing, fun. Clearly just a mother load of emotions.
     Anyone who races can probably relate to the mindset of a race. You're pumped to sign up. Then you wonder why you paid to do something you could do for free at home. Sometimes you have a bad training day and you get scared. Then you have a great training day and you're pumped again. The night before the race you set your alarm and it kills you that you're not getting enough sleep. Then you lay in bed and everything washes over you, excitement, fear, tiredness, everything. The morning of the race my boyfriend, John, and I walked to transition and I told him maybe after this race I'd retire from triathlons and next year I'd just watch him with my dog (that I have yet to acquire). I was only half serious. But still a half.
     The waves of emotions don't stop the whole way through the race. I hated the swim. It was 1.2 miles of poor swimming. But, really, it wasn't the choppy water or the seaweed as thick as ropes that stuck to my arms and goggles, I just didn't feel strong and I didn't like that. I set a "I better not be slower than this time" goal and a real goal. I hit my "I better not be slower than this time", so it could've been worse.
     The first 20 of the 56 mile bike ride was amazeballs. I felt very speedy. The route was well protected from the wind and the sky was overcast. I was flying. Then the trees thinned out and the wind hit and the clouds broke loose with rain. I began counting down the miles by singing 36 miles to go on the bike 36 miles to go, take one down, pound it to the ground, only 35 miles to go on this freaking bike. Every mile. My butt hurt. It might be chaffed.
     I was only one minute off of my real goal for my bike. I did it in 3:01. Even in the wind and rain and singing my stupid song. I got off the bike and thanked the triathlon gods that was over.
     I didn't set a goal for the run because I know what I can run a half marathon in and didn't want to psych myself out for that. But I was soooo happy to get to the run. I felt good. Started passing people. Making moves. I felt so good. I talked to every person I saw. "Looking good!" "Great job!" "Keep it up!" Cheesy but it was fun and passed the time with no music. After 4 miles I started thinking I could easily be under six hours for the race. At 6.5 miles (the half way mark) I was jamming to music in my head and still cheesing to people and I realized I could be under 5:45.
     I finished the race in 5:37 with a 1:47 half marathon. I was pumped. I felt like I could run for days. Moments before, on the bike, I was wondering how I'd ever run. But my legs never stopped moving and my smile never left my face.
     I did an Olympic distance tri a few weeks ago. This is the distance I normally do (1.5K swim, 40K bike, 10K run). I hit a personal best in that race and the only thing that got me to the finish was knowing that once I got to the end I could pee, eat Mexican food, and that John was waiting for me. I thought those three things, plus the promise of a post race massage at the event and then a scheduled one on Tuesday and three days at the lake to recover this weekend, would be the things that got me through. But I didn't feel like I needed to bribe myself. Yesterday, I wanted to soak it all up, the good and the bad. I did it, just me, without talking myself into it. I did it.
     I'm still smiling. My butt hurts. And my mindset might be totally different my next race and I might have to bribe myself in all kinds of ways to finish. But today, yesterday, that was amazing. I feel like a rockstar and I'm smiling.

I'm not smiling in this picture. My mouth is
full of food. Go figure.