July 20, 2013. 18 days after my 40th birthday, I embarked on my first triathlon. I had some confidence, some determination, some excitement, no clue whatsoever and more nausea than I'd ever had in a race. Great combination, let me tell you!
We had to start dark thirty in the morning to deliver the kayak to the staging area, then deliver the bike, across town and then deliver me even further out. Even waking up that early felt insane. We saw a few other cars with kayaks and bikes, so it was easy to identify what others were doing so friggin' early in the morning.
I had been having some issues with noise with my bike, something was scraping against something making a stupid noise. The man had fixed it, but of course, race morning comes and there it was. It was like the bike was screaming... " HEY! I'm a cheapy Wal Mart Bike! Who's with me!?"
But it was too late. Looking back now, WHY I didn't feel embarrassment beyond belief is a mystery. It all seems a blur now.
The minute I signed up for the race, I knew one thing I wanted. I wanted to get a photograph of Eppie Johnson, the founder of Eppie's Great Race. I had met him before, as he was a close personal friend of my boss. I guess one could say he was a bit of a Sacramento celebrity in his own way. I knew if I couldn't get a photo with Eppie, I could always ask the big boss many if he could arrange for Eppie to come in for a picture- after all, my company was a sponsor of the race, so a little favor might be possible, right!?
The race started and it seemed like everyone had on jet packs except for me. I just went with it, willing myself not to be last. The nausea had not subsided, food was barely there, a couple of bites of a protein bar abut an hour earlier was it. Could not possibly get anything else down. During the run, I remember thinking I needed to at least eat a Gu energy gel, but the thought of the sweet sickly sticky was more than I could bear. I skipped it.
On to the biking part, still had not eaten, but I was good. Of course my bike was one of the last remaining in the bike racks, but I was good. I hopped on and started out like wildfire. Since I knew the bike trail pretty well, I knew about where I was and how far I had to go, or so I thought. It was likely around mile 6 or 7 that I started to get blinding dizzy, lightheaded. I had to stop a few times, get off the bike, put my head on the seat and breathe for a bit. Drinking electrolytes helped, but still the nausea was simply not going to let me eat and keep anything down. I knew forcing myself to eat was not a good idea. Why I was starting to 'blackout' or whatever it was, I have no idea. Heat? Fatigue? Lack of nutrients? Likely a combination of all of them. It was such a lovely feeling though, let me tell you. I thanked my lucky stars a thousand times there were no photographers on the path.
At some point I got a phone call. I looked down to see it was my husband calling. Um. Yeah.
Normally I'd say screw it, not answer and carry on, but because I was damn near in an emergency state myself, I panicked and thought there was an emergency somewhere, and that's why he was calling. He asked where I was. What? Are you kidding me? "I'm at that point with the trees, oh and I can see the river." Was about all I had. I didn't mention the possibility of me blacking out in the middle of the bike trail, where no one knew where I was. No, didn't think to mention that.
The kayaking part was a relief. Almost done. The woman who I had run with earlier was with me and we were actually having fun at that point. We made it down the river, amongst the drunken rafters, college kids and idiots, and off we were. I had not seen another Eppie's racer in quite some time, so I assumed we were last, but who knew?
Yep, we were last. I was second to last, she was last. I saw my family & friends standing in the water, taking pictures, cheering me on. Kiddo ran up to the boat as I got out, and I ran to the finish line. I cried. My sister was there as I got my medal and later she told me one of the first things I said was " Dad is going to be mad, I forgot sunscreen!"
[My dear dad passed away from skin cancer in 2011, since then, sunscreen is my thing]
I ran up a hill, how I'll never know, to find my mom sitting with her walker, gave her a tearful hug and cried like an Olympian. Sheesh.
It was then, a woman I didn't know, pointed Eppie out to me. I hobbled over to him, and got my picture with the man who created the race. One of my prized possessions.
Roughly three months later, Eppie Johnson passed away. His last Eppie's Great Race was my first.
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