I was Tri-ing to do the Du

This was my first triathlon of the season. But, thanks to Mother nature, plans were altered. Let me say that this whole week we have been watching the James River and it's height. It was well above any level that we could swim in it legally. Lo and behold, it dropped and dropped, and the first ever Rocketts Landing Olympic Distance Triathlon was on! Yay, I think, and in hindsight, boy do I wish it was....

The end of this whole week it was supposed to rain and storm. We got some sprinkles here and there but nothing appreciable that would add to the previously swollen James. Then it happened, duh duh duh (that's my dramatic music)! We got the mother of all storms last night and the James rose over a foot. We were borderline okay for the swim, all I could think was this is going to be a Duathlon. But we packed up our gear, and our wetsuits, and off we went at 5:30AM to get to the race and our transition set up. Darn if it doesn't start raining on our way. Heck, we're going to get wet anyway, so whatever right??

Okay we get to our rack, set up our bikes, lay out our gear in the order we need to access it so our transitions go more quickly and stand on line for the port-a-potties. Not to get graphic, but if you've never used a port-a-potty at a triathlon, you really haven't experienced gross yet. I cannot imagine why everyone has to take a do, nerves maybe? But they are absolutely obscene. I just had to take a whiz and didn't relish relieving myself in my wetsuit while I was swimming. Yep, today was wetsuit legal. The James was a refreshingly brisk 67 degrees this morning. So there I am on line to use the loo, getting ready to swim in a freakishly cold river, and I spy the current. There were ducks trying to swim up river, and I literally saw them get whisked away. Holy currents Batman, the water is flowing better then cheap beer at a college bar. I have butterflies now, that are in danger of turning into red tailed hawks...

I go back to transition, which is closing in 5 minutes, and grab my wetsuit. Brad and I suit up, always a fun past time, it's like putting on spandex pantyhose that are ten sizes too small all over your body. Get the suits on and these big, black clouds start rolling in over the already dreary gray ones.

Everyone starts making the exodus to the river site where we are all supposed to start from. The rain started falling harder, the wind started to pick up. Brad jumped into the James to get a little warm up in before the start and he is stroking beautifully, he looks great, like he's swimming in an endless pool. He gets out, looks at me and shakes his head. To that, one of our friends says, "Oh Sh*t that's not good". Laurie, the race director, starts giving out instructions. The race start is moving down to where we are supposed to get out, and the course has been shortened quite a bit. That's good, we all walk to where we are now going to get in and the clouds open up, it is torrential. Brad puts his goggles on, I have to giggle, and the wind starts gusting. I would say it was around 30 miles per hour, no kidding. Time for the race to start. Blue caps hop in the water, to be followed by the yellow caps, which Brad is, then the pink caps, which I am one of. The horn shrieks and off they go. It was like watching an old time keystone cops movie. Everyone was trying to head up, then across, then back, but there was absolutely no rhyme or reason to what we were seeing. People were everywhere. Some were getting swept down river so quickly, others were bravely trying to make it to the buoy which kept moving, some were bobbing up and down, some were flailing. Only the very strongest of swimmers were making it anywhere. The kayakers were paddling like crazy to stay in one place. No matter how much the paddled, the got no where. The police boat had it's motor cut off, and it was being hauled down river. Then the first of our intrepid blue caps starting patting the top of their head, that means, I am in distress. Then another, then another. The kayakers couldn't get to the people fast enough, after about ten minutes of watching the melee, Laurie called off the swim. The first annual Rockett's Landing Triathlon was now officially the first ever Rockett's Landing Duathlon. Whoopee, we were getting to run 2 miles, it was actually 2.4, bike for 24, then run another 6.2. We go back to transition, we are freezing, get back to our spots, my bike helmet is not on the handle bars, I see one of the lenses of my glasses on the ground, my bike gloves are no where to be seen. The wind was so strong it blew my helmet and it's transition contents to I don't know where. So I start picking through transition and find all of my belongings, put my glasses back together and get ready to do a Du.

We were going off in two waves. Boys first, then girls. Wouldn't you know it, I had to use the port-a-potty again. As I am sitting there, I hear, ladies line up! Ack, pee faster, get out of there. I do, surprised I don't have toilet paper trailing behind me, get on the back of the line, and off we go. I don't know how fast I was running, but all I could think is this sucks! I have to cycle after this?? Just as I was griping to myself, the clouds start dropping buckets of water and the wind is howling and it stayed that way for the duration of the run. I finish the 2 miles, cross the timing mat, kick out of my sneakers, put on my cycling shoes, put on my helmet and glasses and start running my bike out of transition. The wind is so strong, the rain pelting me and I think I must be out of my freakin mind.

The ride was uneventful save the wind, rain and a nasty bike wreck I saw in enough time that I avoided being caught in it. I made it back, I don't know my time and truly by the time I was done, I don't think I cared. I did ask a volunteer if I was running because my legs were so numb I couldn't feel them. Kick out of the bike shoes and take a huge swig out of my water bottle. I was afraid to remove my hands from the handle bars to grab my water bottle because of the weather and how slick the roads were. I didn't hydrate properly and that would interfere with my run. I knew it would, but truly, I was so afraid after seeing the bike accident. I decided to pay the price later while I was on my two feet as opposed to while I was riding going 17, 18, 19 miles per hour.

So back to my sneakers, grab my visor to keep the rain from pouring in my face and off I go. I did okay, mile 1, no problem. I see Brad finishing up and cheer my Bud on. Mile 2, no problem, mile 3, still good. There were lots of stairs, hills, it was a tricky and challenging course. I was still running, I was happy, my endurance was there. Was I running like Brad, heck no. But I was running and doing the whole thing, then I hit mile 5, yikes! Cramps in my right hamstring. Damn it, I am so close, I have around a mile to go. So I start fast walking and trying to stretch. I meet a very nice man who looks as though he is going to barf and he walks with me. The last half mile is a fairly ugly uphill. Ed, the nice man I met tells me not to wait on him, so I start to run, it hurts, I don't care. I can hear the end, I want it to end and it does come to end. Although a very nice lady whose bike was was racked with mine blows past me like I am standing still in the last 50 feet or so, and it was a beautiful pass on her part, I finish. It ended just like everything else that happened that day, with the triathlon gods laughing, screwing things up, making nothing but chaos out of something that should be orderly and spitting in my face, or maybe that was just the rain...