"But in looking back at the lessons I've learned
And the mountains I wanted to climb
I just look at myself to find
I've learned the hard way every time
'Cause I've had my share of broken dreams
And more than a couple of falls
And in chasing' what I thought were moonbeams
I have run into a couple of walls
But in looking back at the faces I've been
I would sure be the first one to say
When I look at myself today
Wouldn't done it any other way"
One of the reasons I have few regrets on the races that went wrong, is that they were not only good learning experiences...but they make great stories later! Whether they are weather-related like the third one here (and I have more of those...which I'll share later) or result in a DNS or DNF...there is always something to learn and something to share later.
I have had plenty of hard days since I started running and racing, but there were 4 that were bad in especially epic ways...I share the stories here.
A FAILURE IN AUSTRALIA
Wearing an Austin Duathlon tri top....maybe that's where I went wrong.
My first open water swim never happened!
This story begins on the flight to Australia, long under the best of circumstances. We were on our way for Glenda to compete in her first ITU World Long Course Triathlon in October 2009. We made it to LAX with no trouble...but the next flight was to Melbourne (with one more leg to Perth to follow). Unfortunately there was a medical emergency on our plane...and we were told to land in Fiji to remove the passenger for medical attention. Upside...I got to see the sunrise in Fiji. Downside...it was through a tiny airplane window as none of us had the appropriate visas and so on to de-plane. Other downside...4+ hours added to the flight. I must say that Qantas and all their employees handled a double deck plane full of cranky and concerned passengers with grace and professionalism. They didn't tell us until we took off again that we were only the second plane of our size to land and take off from this airstrip (probably better we didn't know).
They handled the re-booking from Melbourne to Perth well too. But despite all the efforts after more than 30 hours en route, it was going to take longer than the 24 or 36 hours available to me before my race, a "friends and family" aquathon, to recover. So I was already at a disadvantage, but wait, there's more...
This race was to be my first open water swim. It was in a tidal river and pretty wavy as you can see above. The distance was 500 meters...which was at the edge of my comfort zone. I arrived at the dock only to find out that we would have "a little warm up swim out to the start buoy" (so 500 meters). Umm.....
But I gamely started out, and got about 2/3rds of the way there when I came to my senses. I was just not ready for this and there was nothing to be gained by pushing the issue. It wasn't like we'd traveled all the way here for me to race. I waved down the motorized launch with the safety crew. Said, " I've decided it's not my day." And they hauled me in and back to the dock in time to run to the start of the longer warm up event for the athletes, and tell Glenda I'd bailed. I had a great time cheering her that day and again when she did the tri. No regrets.
OH NO, SAN ANTONIO
Fall of 2009 was definitely one for stories, if not for races. This particular race, the Rock N Roll San Antonio in November of that year was such a race disaster (mostly due to my own stupidity) that I have no photos of the day.
So we came back from Australia after Glenda's event. This half marathon was about a month later, and was one that many of our running friends did. Glenda went back to Austin and I returned to Rhode Island where I was working at the time. I was feeling great, no jet lag or anything. Went and taught my class the evening after I got back, went home....woke up 3 hours later with chills and a fever of 102. I had contracted swine flu while on the trip!
Still there were several weeks until the half marathon. I was much better, but still had a nagging cough and I considered skipping the race. I even told my coach...who called me. He encouraged me to go for it, as did Glenda at the time. And truth be told, I kind of wanted to be talked into it. I had a huge coughing jag during bib pickup, but I still decided (perhaps against my better judgement) to go ahead.
The next morning I was still having cold symptoms, and without much thought I took some cold medicine (not a great idea blood pressure-wise). We arrived at my assigned corral (30 of 33, I believe), and stood around. I had a fleeting thought of not starting, but thought...well, I'm here. The fact that they sent off a corral every 3 minutes meant that some of our running friends were finished or nearly finished before we ever started. But finally, at long last , 90 minutes after the first corral began, we were off.
By miles 5 the wheels were coming off....more coughing, etc. I determined it was not my day. And in some ways that is where this story really begins. We were told that there was a sag to the start if someone had a problem. So we stopped at medical and asked about the sag...the response? Blank stares, followed by, "We can send you to the ER." No, I can't finish, but I don't need the ER.
Glenda stayed with me until someone (not an official sag, just a volunteer) came along with a golf cart and said he'd take myself and another lady to find the sag. I sent Glenda on her way. And off we went, asking cops and volunteers along the way and always getting the same answer "Gee I don't know, we can send you to the ER I guess, but I don't know about a sag." I was getting very frustrated. The golf cart was running out of battery, the other person on the cart bailed and decided to walk the rest of the race. I decided to get off at the next medical tent. Same story.
So I started walking, and asked again at the next medical stop. They said "not here, but cut across to the medical stop on the marathon route, sag is there" I went where they pointed me, and asked. The answer "no idea, we can send you to the ER...." I said never mind and stomped back to the previous station. I wasn't feeling well and I was frantic because I knew Glenda by now had finished the race and would be looking for me...but this is before we routinely carried cell phones during the race, especially when we thought we'd be together the whole way. I exploded, and told the person who had sent me through gritted teeth, "They tell me they don't know anything about sag!" After a brief exchange, he said, "I will walk there with you." We got there and he asked where the sag was parked. The people at the tent said, "We don't know anything about sag, " then the lady turned toward a man standing a few yards away and said, "do you know anything about a sag?" The man answered, "yes, I'm the sag." Ho-ly Cow! Talk about lack of communication.
I FINALLY got back to the meeting point and Glenda was not there, because she'd gone to the race people to see if they could locate me. I spotted one of our group and fell into her arms sobbing in relief. A few minutes later Glenda arrived and once we were done crying and hugging, we got laughing about how I'd given Glenda an amazing negative split on her race.
I'll be honest about this one. It is an epic story, but I still have not brought myself to do another Rock and Roll branded race as this left a bad taste. I think I'm almost ready....ALMOST.
DOC NEEDS A DOC
January 2016 we were at Disney doing the Dopey Challenge. Well Glenda was doing the Challenge, I was doing a challenge of my own creation. The Doc Challenge, I called it. 5k Thursday, Half on Saturday. I figured I'd call it the Doc Challenge because a. I have a Ph.D. and b. I'm too smart to even attempt the other one. :)
The 5K (with Glenda as the White Rabbit and me as Alice) went well. But the day of the half was humid as only Florida can be. I was dressed as Doc, and Glenda was Snow White. About mile 9, we spotted the dreaded Balloon Ladies behind us, and were just seconds ahead of the sweep busses. I was struggling. (Side note: don't dread the balloon ladies, they are very sweet and encouraging). By mile 10 they were passing us and I knew I had to pick it up. Mile 11 was my fastest one in the second half of the race. Once we were into the park I was pretty sure that we wouldn't be swept, but it was still a slog. The comments between runners and Glenda's encouragement kept me going. I crossed the finish line and my legs said, "no mas!" and I flopped into the nearest wheelchair.
This was not the way I wanted to finish my race, but I have to tell you the finish line crew and the medical crew were amazing! The photographers made sure to get our photos even as I was being taken to medical. The medical folks were quick to diagnose moderate dehydration (no IVs needed) and gave me power ade to start...but since I am type 2 diabetic they also checked my blood sugar which was a bit high and switched to water. They helped me out of my soaking and hot shirt, gave me ice, and an oversized leftover 5k shirt from the year before so I was wearing something dry. (Still one of my favorite shirts!) They took care of me efficiently and were kind to Glenda as well. 30 minutes or so later, I was relatively recovered and on my way.
I never want to end up in medical again, but if I do, I hope they are as wonderful and efficient as run Disney.
HIS BITE WAS WORSE THAN HIS BARK
The final story in this blog happened just last year. The first weekend in August, to be precise. On that weekend, I had planned to do a pool swim sprint distance triathlon on Saturday and a 2-person relay on Sunday (I was swimming and running). The first was a very small race, with a somewhat shortened swim in the pool and very hilly bike ride and a run. The swim went well. The bike...well not so much. And I never got to the run...
The swim went well and the transition was very smooth. I had worried about the bike because I'm not strong on the hills, and it was a struggle. But I had reached the top of the worst of a series of hills and even enjoyed one downhill segment with an endless (and gorgeous) view from the bluff across a sweeping vista of Wisconsin cornfields.
I then began to climb one of the last hills on the course, and there halfway up the hill I saw them. Two farm dogs yapping and fussing generally. I shouted at them and picked up my pace as much as I was able (not much)...but one of them darted out and I felt a sharp pain in the back of my right thigh. I chased him off and re-mounted my bike (I did not fall, but I was forced to hop off to avoid it). I thought I was alone and the only way to get out of it was to keep going. I was crying more out of frustration than pain, when a truck pulled up on me and asked if I was OK. They were from the race and had seen it happen from down the road. They asked if I wanted to go on and I said, "I don't know. I know he nipped me, but I can't tell how bad it is." So they took a look and said the skin was broken and there was one puncture. I decided I was done as the shock wore off and it started to ache. I was also worried what Glenda would think and how I was going salvage anything of the relay the next day.
Meanwhile Glenda was finishing the race (in first place) and did not know where I was. The guy in the truck radioed ahead that they were bringing me in, and that I'd had a dog bite. That information was relayed to Glenda and she was freaking out. A vivid imagination can be a bad thing in those circumstances. They had also notified EMS and the Sheriff, because dog bites have to be reported by law.
In what seems like an hour, but was in reality, minutes I was back at the transition area. EMS looked at the bite and sent me to the local ER to have it cleaned and dressed. While Glenda gathered up our bikes the race people called ahead so the ER was expecting me and the animal control people could take my report there. I heard the announcer say that awards would begin in 10 minutes and it dawned on me that Glenda probably placed. So I said to the race director who was making sure I was taken care of, "how did Glenda do? I don't want her to miss awards." She told me, "she won...and we will make sure she gets her medal." And off we went to the ER.
The Reedsburg WI emergency room was very good. They cleaned the wound efficiently and prescribed a few days of antibiotics, just in case. I think the doctor was a bit bemused when I started asking about my race the next day. I really wanted to do it. I mean really, a relay team named the Sisterhood of the Flaming Lederhosen...who wouldn't want to do that? Especially since we had costumes! So the doctor finally said, I could run if I didn't hurt too much...but it would not be wise to swim. As we were wrapping up, the nurse came in and handed Glenda her medal. They had delivered it to the ER! We actually drove back to thank the race director and her crew on the way out of town. And before we were home, my relay partner had agreed to the swim and the bike...and I ran the next day with a band-aid printed with NO DOGS ALLOWED!
So here's to learning the hard way and epic stories and keeping on keeping on... even if we might have done it some other way.
