Pride and Accomplishment
It is an interesting concept for me to wakeup in the morning and be totally afraid to move. It was not like I was afraid of some intruder or that some strange creature was lurking near me, but rather a fear of pain, the soreness that typically follows a day of over exertion, a pain that comes from areas of your body that you did not even know existed. So I opened my eyes slowly, and began the process of rolling out of bed. To my surprise, I was not sore at all, or at least nothing more that what I feel after a good workout. Even my knee was surprisingly pain free. It is as if Saturday was all a dream……..
The day, Saturday May 14, 2005, began at 3:00 AM after a night of restless slumber (is that an oxymoron?). Ken and I had to be in Defiance, Ohio by 7 AM to check-in for the race. I pulled myself out of bed and took a quick hot shower to begin the process of loosening up my muscles for the day. After the shower I began the layering process that is a sign of any good outdoors person, of course, this would have to have a slight adjustment for the race. Bike shorts first, nylon pants next, Smartwool socks, long-sleeved nylon/polyester shirt, followed by polyester/nylon fleece pullover (note: notice there is no cotton. Cotton is the enemy of warmth). I put on the junk shoes that I would use for the first leg of the race, canoeing, and then loaded the car with my remaining gear (bike helmet, hiking shoes, jacket, change of clothing, etc.). After a quick breakfast that was carb and potassium loaded, I was on the road to Ken’s house. By 4:45 AM, we were on our way to lovely Ohio.
The drive was on the surreal level as it did not feel like the middle of the night, but rather more like driving back from the bar. Maybe it was the number of drunks on the road, or girls with regrets (you know the ones who drank too much and woke up next to someone), or maybe it was the fact that we were both anxious to start our first triathlon. The drive was going well as we headed into Ohio when Ken asked, “can we stop at the next rest area?” Little did we know that on US-23 there were no rest areas in Ohio. In fact, we did not find the opportunity until we were about 10 minutes from our destination, and 50 minutes after the request. With the need taken care of, we were ready for the race.
Ken and I arrived at the section of the race where we would begin our second leg. It was here where we needed to have our backpacks weighed in and certified. Both of our packs were at 33-34 lbs, but we added about 6 more with food, beverages, and spare clothing (the rule of this segment was that the packs had to maintain a minimum weight of 20% of your body weight). I have to point out that I was amazed at what people would do to reach the 20% weight mark for their packs, or even what some people used for their packs, such as book bags filled with weights. It made me shudder to think about carrying 40 lbs of weight for 8 miles totally on ones shoulders. Anyway, after we stashed out backpacks, we headed over to the start of the race. It was 7 AM, which would give us time to prep for the start.
We reached the starting point of the race and went to check-in. We were both amazed at how disorganized the people seemed. It was like no one had their coffee yet, or that they had never done this before – did I mention that this was the 20th edition of the race? We stood in line for 15 minutes before checking in and getting our number. It was now time to get our gear for canoeing, but where was it? It seems that the guy who was in charge of the rental gear was not there yet. So, we, as well as about 40 other people waited for him to arrive. At 7:58, he arrived, and I was pissed. It was not until a quarter after 8 that we were able to get our gear (Our supposed launch time was 8 AM). Ken and I grabbed our canoe and began the ¼ - ½ mile portage to the launce point. We had procured a fiberglass canoe that was light, but it had two flaws. First, it was not designed for 2 people to portage it correctly. Secondly, it had a flat bottom so it did not want to track straight on the river. This made the canoeing much more difficult and time consuming for us, with a time of 1 hour 30 minutes. We then had to transition to backpacking.
The backpacking section was my biggest fear. I am a decent canoeist, and I am a strong bicyclist, but I have never been really strong at backpacking long distances without breaks. We changed our shoes and socks, and shed a layer of clothing (it was humid and warm), and threw on our packs. To my surprise, we did the section very well, averaging 15 minute miles. I will point out that there were people who actually ran the 8 miles with 20% of their body weight in their packs. That was not for us. The hike was actually enjoyable and time flew as we were able to talk and make note of nature (Buckeye trees, natural chive plants, etc). Little did we know that the worst was yet to come.
Ken and I arrived at the third leg of the race at 12 PM, 3.3 hours after the start. We were doing great, pretty much on schedule, and our heart rates were at the perfect level. Yes, we used heart rate monitors to pace ourselves. This is important as you do not want to move at your lactate threshold, 90% of your max heart rate zone, or else you will burn out quick. Anyway, we checked it, dumped our packs, and changed into our biking gear. At this point, the weather was still decent, although a light drizzle had developed. We ate some power bars and drank some liquids, then launched into the final leg of the race, a 33 mile bike ride. Things were going great for the first ¼ mile of the ride when the weather turned for the worse. It began to rain harder and the wind picked up. Ken and I did not let it faze us as we set and kept our pace of 15 mph. We hit the first checkpoint when the weather went from bad to worse. A torrential downpour started about 5 miles into the ride, which not only made it difficult to ride, but also made it nearly impossible to see. Ken and I worked like true champions though, as we pushed through all that Mother Nature threw at us. We were soaked to the bone, our shoes full of water, even the pockets on the back of my bike jersey were filled with water. As Ken put it, it was like riding through Niagara Falls for 45 minutes. It was about 24 miles into the ride when the rain let up enough for us to pick up the pace again (We held at about 12-13MPH during the storm). Unfortunately, a cold front had come with the storm and was now inducing hypothermia into us. I honestly thought that I was shaking my bike apart from all the shivering that I was doing. It was lucky for us that the finish was only a few miles away. We reached the finish with little fanfare, ending the race in less than 6 hours. We were cold, we were tired, but we both felt great that we had successfully completed the whole race. The event organizers were supposed to have medals for all those who finished, but apparently, they got lost.
With the race over, Ken and I changed out of our wet clothes, and we hopped into the truck and cranked the heat on high as we drove home. I would say that it took a good hour to kill the chill from our bones, but neither of us complained once. I did not go to bed that night until 10 PM, but I did sleep soundly the whole night.
I woke up to a new day today, and I have this awesome sense of accomplishment and pride. There is no pain, just lots of wet shoes. I even had to laugh when I went to load Ken’s rental bike into the truck and out from the tubing poured about 3 cups of water. It was a good day.
A warm welcome to the world to my new nephew, Ari Petre Oostlander. He was born 1 week ago today.
The day, Saturday May 14, 2005, began at 3:00 AM after a night of restless slumber (is that an oxymoron?). Ken and I had to be in Defiance, Ohio by 7 AM to check-in for the race. I pulled myself out of bed and took a quick hot shower to begin the process of loosening up my muscles for the day. After the shower I began the layering process that is a sign of any good outdoors person, of course, this would have to have a slight adjustment for the race. Bike shorts first, nylon pants next, Smartwool socks, long-sleeved nylon/polyester shirt, followed by polyester/nylon fleece pullover (note: notice there is no cotton. Cotton is the enemy of warmth). I put on the junk shoes that I would use for the first leg of the race, canoeing, and then loaded the car with my remaining gear (bike helmet, hiking shoes, jacket, change of clothing, etc.). After a quick breakfast that was carb and potassium loaded, I was on the road to Ken’s house. By 4:45 AM, we were on our way to lovely Ohio.
The drive was on the surreal level as it did not feel like the middle of the night, but rather more like driving back from the bar. Maybe it was the number of drunks on the road, or girls with regrets (you know the ones who drank too much and woke up next to someone), or maybe it was the fact that we were both anxious to start our first triathlon. The drive was going well as we headed into Ohio when Ken asked, “can we stop at the next rest area?” Little did we know that on US-23 there were no rest areas in Ohio. In fact, we did not find the opportunity until we were about 10 minutes from our destination, and 50 minutes after the request. With the need taken care of, we were ready for the race.
Ken and I arrived at the section of the race where we would begin our second leg. It was here where we needed to have our backpacks weighed in and certified. Both of our packs were at 33-34 lbs, but we added about 6 more with food, beverages, and spare clothing (the rule of this segment was that the packs had to maintain a minimum weight of 20% of your body weight). I have to point out that I was amazed at what people would do to reach the 20% weight mark for their packs, or even what some people used for their packs, such as book bags filled with weights. It made me shudder to think about carrying 40 lbs of weight for 8 miles totally on ones shoulders. Anyway, after we stashed out backpacks, we headed over to the start of the race. It was 7 AM, which would give us time to prep for the start.
We reached the starting point of the race and went to check-in. We were both amazed at how disorganized the people seemed. It was like no one had their coffee yet, or that they had never done this before – did I mention that this was the 20th edition of the race? We stood in line for 15 minutes before checking in and getting our number. It was now time to get our gear for canoeing, but where was it? It seems that the guy who was in charge of the rental gear was not there yet. So, we, as well as about 40 other people waited for him to arrive. At 7:58, he arrived, and I was pissed. It was not until a quarter after 8 that we were able to get our gear (Our supposed launch time was 8 AM). Ken and I grabbed our canoe and began the ¼ - ½ mile portage to the launce point. We had procured a fiberglass canoe that was light, but it had two flaws. First, it was not designed for 2 people to portage it correctly. Secondly, it had a flat bottom so it did not want to track straight on the river. This made the canoeing much more difficult and time consuming for us, with a time of 1 hour 30 minutes. We then had to transition to backpacking.
The backpacking section was my biggest fear. I am a decent canoeist, and I am a strong bicyclist, but I have never been really strong at backpacking long distances without breaks. We changed our shoes and socks, and shed a layer of clothing (it was humid and warm), and threw on our packs. To my surprise, we did the section very well, averaging 15 minute miles. I will point out that there were people who actually ran the 8 miles with 20% of their body weight in their packs. That was not for us. The hike was actually enjoyable and time flew as we were able to talk and make note of nature (Buckeye trees, natural chive plants, etc). Little did we know that the worst was yet to come.
Ken and I arrived at the third leg of the race at 12 PM, 3.3 hours after the start. We were doing great, pretty much on schedule, and our heart rates were at the perfect level. Yes, we used heart rate monitors to pace ourselves. This is important as you do not want to move at your lactate threshold, 90% of your max heart rate zone, or else you will burn out quick. Anyway, we checked it, dumped our packs, and changed into our biking gear. At this point, the weather was still decent, although a light drizzle had developed. We ate some power bars and drank some liquids, then launched into the final leg of the race, a 33 mile bike ride. Things were going great for the first ¼ mile of the ride when the weather turned for the worse. It began to rain harder and the wind picked up. Ken and I did not let it faze us as we set and kept our pace of 15 mph. We hit the first checkpoint when the weather went from bad to worse. A torrential downpour started about 5 miles into the ride, which not only made it difficult to ride, but also made it nearly impossible to see. Ken and I worked like true champions though, as we pushed through all that Mother Nature threw at us. We were soaked to the bone, our shoes full of water, even the pockets on the back of my bike jersey were filled with water. As Ken put it, it was like riding through Niagara Falls for 45 minutes. It was about 24 miles into the ride when the rain let up enough for us to pick up the pace again (We held at about 12-13MPH during the storm). Unfortunately, a cold front had come with the storm and was now inducing hypothermia into us. I honestly thought that I was shaking my bike apart from all the shivering that I was doing. It was lucky for us that the finish was only a few miles away. We reached the finish with little fanfare, ending the race in less than 6 hours. We were cold, we were tired, but we both felt great that we had successfully completed the whole race. The event organizers were supposed to have medals for all those who finished, but apparently, they got lost.
With the race over, Ken and I changed out of our wet clothes, and we hopped into the truck and cranked the heat on high as we drove home. I would say that it took a good hour to kill the chill from our bones, but neither of us complained once. I did not go to bed that night until 10 PM, but I did sleep soundly the whole night.
I woke up to a new day today, and I have this awesome sense of accomplishment and pride. There is no pain, just lots of wet shoes. I even had to laugh when I went to load Ken’s rental bike into the truck and out from the tubing poured about 3 cups of water. It was a good day.
A warm welcome to the world to my new nephew, Ari Petre Oostlander. He was born 1 week ago today.
posted by Brian at 6:12 PM
3 Comments:
Way to go Perl! Congratulations! I used to ride metric centurties many many moons ago and it always sucked getting stuck in an Oregon downpour. Not only does it rain on you but it kicks up from the tires (unless you have fenders). This is your best post yet, I think.
Congrats! Incredible that one of the WUMD'ers has done something physical...other than get up and go eat.
Good Job!
Nice job, Perl! And I have to say that the organization level sounds about like any of the marathons I've been to with YS. There's always something that doesn't go exactly as you would think it should.
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