The Triathlon That Ended With a Trip to the ER

There Will Be Blood. He carefully weaved the thin thread through exposed tissue, tying layers of skin together using a stitching technique called a horizontal mattress suture. The needle poked around, under, over, but didn’t cause any pain thanks to the anesthetic administered a few minutes prior. Two other wounds had been cleaned and tended to. Once the stitches were completed, instructions were given and I walked out of the Gulf Breeze Hospital Emergency Room.

---

Back to the Future. Six hours earlier. 430am. The morning started in the hotel room with a long, hot shower… something of a luxury when you live in a travel trailer. My sisters and brother-in-law were still asleep. After the shower, I ate breakfast overlooking the beach and the oceanside homes. Quiet. Cool. Calm.

Then it was time to stretch. Suit up. Gather the gear. My brother-in-law and I biked over to the triathlon transition area to set up, thankful to have my headlamp because it was still dark out. I found my assigned bicycle rack and began sorting through the gear, placing items like shoes, helmet, number belt, in the most strategic positions. I also chatted with a few friends from the triathlon club in Tallahassee then continued prepping. Around 645am all the athletes gathered at the start line for a few instructions and the National Anthem. Goggles on. Time to swim.

---

Just Go With It. The wind had picked up since the day before and foresight from the race organizers called for a change: the swim leg was moved from one side of the island to the other. This turned out to be a significant adjustment for everyone. Not only was it safer, in theory, but it also altered the route from a left-to-right rectangle course to a right-to-left triangle, which was wonderful for me as I’m most comfortable breathing on the left side and now I was able to see the shoreline as I popped my head up for air. Another major factor was the depth of the water. Meaning… there wasn’t much of it! Because of tides and whatnot, most athletes waded through the water for at least 100 yards, almost to the first buoy. For average swimmers like me, I was very OK with that. Kudos to officials for making changes on the fly and high fives to the triathletes who adapted with positive attitudes.

---

A Mighty Wind. Next up was cycling. The 13-mile course was an out-and-back, cyclists turning around halfway to go back in the opposite direction. What I didn’t know was how gusty the winds were going to be for the first half. It was as if I was pulling someone behind me (I wasn’t) and I swear the elevation was a thousand feet (it wasn’t).

As I pedaled and pushed towards the halfway point, I encouraged myself with little reminders that the wind would be behind me for the 6.5-mile ride back to the transition area. This turned out to be true. My average speed in the first half was in the 15 to 16 mph range and the back half averaged over 21 mph.

---

Chicken Run. As I cruised in on the bike, I successfully completed a rolling dismount without a hitch. I racked my bike, swapped out shoes and shed my helmet as patiently yet as quickly as possible.The last leg of the race is usually my favorite– the 5K run– and that was true for this race. It’s not that it’s fun or easy. After all, I have chicken legs according to my stalker. But a few parts of the 3-mile run give me a mental boost: Knowing the race is 2/3 finished and I’m a stronger runner than I am a swimmer or cyclist. I ran towards the transition exit where my sisters and a college friend were hooping and hollering all kinds of encouragement to get me going in that first few hundred yards. There’s nothing like that kind of support when your body is kind of mostly saying “no.” Strangers along the way offered shouts of affirmation as runners wound through an idyllic beach neighborhood. Would those 630am Tuesday track intervals pay off? That question kept floating through my mind because I had been doing the training for a couple of months, even committed enough to buy those little running shorts runners wear. I grew to love those early mornings and the crew of people showing up every week. It challenged me both physically and mentally and this triathlon was the first test of any improvement.

I kept track of my average pace during the race and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Even when I felt slow, sluggish, moving against the wind (again!) my pace was really good. What a boost of confidence and a testament to the Tuesday morning track runs. I’m so grateful for the coach, the technician who sets up the clocks, the other athletes, it’s such a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction to see hard work paying off. But I’ve teased long enough. Was I able to finish the race at all?

---

Homeward Bound. Turning into the transition area and being rooted on by triathlete friends and family was everything. But there’s this little thing I’ve been delaying. Remember that whole trip to the ER thing? It was because of the accident that left me lying on the pavement, blood running down my leg, wondering if I’d be pulled off the course altogether.

Come back tomorrow for the rest of the story including more specific details (with pictures!), what I’ll be adding to the list of my most embarrassing sports fails, and the final results of the triathlon…

-Out of the Wilderness