The Danskin, part 2

We planned on everyone meeting at our house to drive down together to Qwest field where we would catch the shuttle to the race start.  This required a 5:15am wake up.  On a Sunday.  Good lord, what have we done?  We managed to crawl out of bed pretty easily and had wisely packed our gear the night before so all we really needed to do was get dressed, walk the dog, and have some breakfast.  It was cool out which had me worried since I absolutely hate being cold.  All I could think about was how cold the water was going to be and I wasn’t really looking forward to this adventure.

Our friends showed up and we exchanged story’s about how well we did or didn’t sleep the night before and how we weren’t looking forward to the day ahead of us and let’s just do this thing.  We piled into the vehicle and headed out for the shuttle.  There was a bit of confusion about parking a week before the event.  Seems the Mariner’s had a big series that weekend against the (damn) Yankees and that parking garage was no longer available to Danskin participants.  I bet if they had bothered to check, the garage wasn’t available all along since the baseball schedules come out well in advance.  Oh well.

We parked at Qwest field and wandered over to the buses.  I really wasn’t looking forward to this and had some long conversations in my head about what a dumbass I was for signing up.  Is it too late to back out now, I wondered.  Of course, I’d never let myself back out, mostly because of pride.  That’s the same thing that kept me from crying my way out of Navy boot camp.  I had always been a bit of a jock in school so not passing the physical stuff didn’t seem feasible.  So I endured and went on to spend 4 torturous years in the Navy.  And I was destined to spend 2 1/2 torturous hours in, on and around Lake Washington today.  The bus came and we all loaded onto it.  Remember when we could fit 3 of us in one seat?  Those days are long gone.  These days two of us can just fit.  And I think I may have gotten some kidney damage from all the jostling.  Seriously, do we care about our school aged children?

Waiting for the shuttle. See how thrilled I am to be there?

The bus ride is pretty quick though there is a moment of panic when the bus turns right, away from the race start, and proceeds to drive about 2 miles down the road.  All of us who know where the event is being held are giving nervous glances at each other.  Someone asks, “Does the driver know where he’s going?”  Shoulders shrug and we continue driving away from the event.  Then, to our relief, the driver turns and wends his way back.  Weird route but we still made it.

We step off the bus and that’s when Susan decides to look in her bag for her timing chip and swim cap.  Guess what?  It’s not there….it’s at her house.  It’s either back onto the shuttle to the truck then home to get it, taking another hour, and potentially missing her start time, or we find out if they have spare chips and caps.  Hey, guess what?  Apparently she’s not the first one to do this so they are prepared to offer her another swim cap and timing chip, for a fee.  Whew!  At least she doesn’t have to go back to get hers.

We go to the transition area and drop our stuff off and I go with Susan to the swim start area to purchase her new timing chip.  We return to the transition area and we start to set up.  I lay out my towel first and put my running shoes and hat on it.  Then the bike shoes, shorts, and shirt with bib pinned to it.  Once everything is set up we see that we have time to orient ourselves to the beginning and end of the various events.  And most importantly we queue up for the porta-potties.

After we find all the entrances and exits of the different legs, and after being yelled at by a few unhelpful volunteers, we go back to the transition area to prepare.  We remove our sweat pants and shirts.    OMG!  Did I mention it’s cool out?  And even cooler with few clothes on?  Time for a few more snacks then we head off to the swim start area.  Oh god, I’m really dreading this part.  All I can think of is that first plunge into cold Lake Washington and how that’s going to feel on the small of my back.  I don’t wanna do this part.  Don’t make me do this part.  Also, I’m irritated because we are standing on asphalt with loose gravel on it and it hurts my feet.  We chat with one another amongst the sea of purple swim caps.  And slowly we inch our way to the front.

We get to a bottleneck where they let a wave of 100 in at a time.  Oh crap.  Here we go.  I want to cry.  Only one group ahead of us and there is a cheerleader on the dock next to them telling them to have fun and you can do it and all I can think of is shut the hell up, biotch.  Then the cheerleader counts them down – 10, 9, 8…..3, 2, 1!  Cheering from the crowd behind us and splashing in front of us.  And now it’s my turn.

We walk up to the water and step into Lake Washington.  Ok.  It’s not quite as bad as I expected.  But it’s not bathwater so I’m still disappointed.  We walk in up to our knees-ish.  Some women are up to their waist which is something I wouldn’t be able to do.  Knees are just fine for now, thanks.  I only have to stand here waiting for the next 3 minutes.  Normally that would seem like a long time but when you are dreading the very thing you will begin in that time, it seems like those minutes fly by. The cheerleader is saying something to us and then 10, 9, 8…..3, 2 1!  Cheering from the crowd behind us and splashing in front.  With a resigned groan I fall into the water.  Yeah, it’s cool and I gasp a little.  And again.  And again.  But I’m swimming.  And I’m bumping into people.  And I’m gasping.  I think I had about 85 panic attacks before I reached the first buoy.

But the first buoy was reached.  That second leg was the longest and facing into the sun.  Which was fine because my goggles had fogged up and I couldn’t see a damn thing anyway.  Ok, so more bumping into people and the periodic comment from a swim angel, “are you ok?” and “you’re gonna want to straighten out” and pretty soon I was near the second buoy.  Yay.  With all the zig-zagging that I did I am pretty sure I swam closer to a mile than just 1/2 mile.  Anyway, we started to thin out around the second buoy but by this time I didn’t have it in me to do the crawl.  So I just stuck with the side stroke and the back stroke to take me to the finish.  Finally, I can see through fogged goggles, the finish line!  I crawl out of the water and nearly tip over.  My legs are like rubber.  And what’s tickling my arm?  I reach and grab onto some water plant and throw it off me as I stumble up the ramp.  Oh thank god it’s over.

I trot over to the transition area where I find Susan getting into her bike gear.  “Did you see Morrie?” I ask, trying to gauge how far ahead of me she is.  I can’t remember what the answer was but I dry off as much as I can, pull on my shirt and shorts and sit down to put my socks and shoes on.  Susan and I chit chat about rubber legs all the while then I don my helmet and unrack my bike and bid adieu.

I pedal along Lake Washington Blvd.  Passing some folks, and being passed by others.  Biking is my favorite leg of the Danskin.  I’m not fast – I’m on a Trek Hybrid for crying out loud – but unlike running, I can take a break from pedaling and still make forward progress.  Try not moving your legs on a run and see how far you get.  On the I-90 bridge someone had taken a spill and medics were attending to her.  How does someone crash on a clear and straight path?  Ok, yeah, I’ve fallen off my bike for no apparent reason so I know it can happen but I just don’t understand how.  I kept looking at the women coming toward me to see if I could find Morrie.  I was happy that I didn’t see her right away…that meant I could still catch her.  But seriously, where the hell is the turn-around?  I kept thinking it was right around this corner or just past this tunnel or just over this hill.  It was none of these places.  I finally saw Morrie and shouted out to her.  She was humping up a hill but still found something inside that could muster up a wave.  Ha!  I wasn’t that far behind her and maybe, depending on where the hell the turn-around is, I might be able to catch her.  There were about 3-4 people in the median between the express lanes of I-90 and the regular, West bound lanes, cheering us on.  How did they get there?  Oh, great distraction.  I didn’t even notice that the turn-around was near.  Only 6 more miles to go!

The second 6 miles went by much faster than the first 6 miles.  Maybe because I definitely knew where the end was.  And the end was my goal.  I make it back to the bridge and the woman who crashed has on oxygen and she’s holding her arm.  Medics are with her and I speed past knowing in an instant I could be on the ground holding my arm.  Or my leg or my bloody face.  I get a burst of energy when I get off I-90 and back onto Lake Washington Blvd.  Except there are women who behave like this is just a Sunday stroll along the lake.  Hello?  Single file, have you heard of it?  Finally I bust past them and head back into the transition area.  Morrie is there.

“Oh, I was just about to head out for the run but I’ll wait for you”.  Aww, that’s sweet.  I rack my bike, remove my helmet and bike shoes and swap them out for running shoes.  I gobble a caffeine bean, grab my hat and we are off.  As we trot over to the run start my legs are so tired and wobbly.  Just a few yards from the start is the first water station.  I managed to drink most of the bottle on my bike but want to hydrate as much as I can so I grab a cup and drink.  We head out.  We joke and talk and laugh.  It’s turned out to be a rather warm day and I catch myself thinking a nice plunge into Lake Washington sounds good right about now.  ?  Everyone along the route is encouraging.  There’s a guy with a cowbell, some drummers and quite a few spectators.  Even fellow Danskinners are shouting out encouragement.  Getting down toward the end of the 5k I tell Morrie that as soon as we get into that final chute I’m pouring it on.  That’s fine, she says, then says she doesn’t have it in her so I should go for it.  We hit the chute and she’s about 1 – 2 strides ahead of me and I put the pedal to the metal and go.  As soon as I get even with Morrie, she does a sideways glance then pours it on.  Damn her!  We cross the finish line, me just a fraction of a second behind Morrie.  We would later learn that our overall time was exactly the same.

We find Jackie at the finish and wait for Susan who’s only a few minutes behind us.  She pushes through the finish line and we all gather in a post-race daze.  We mozy over to the food tent and gather up  bananas, bagels and peanut butter, pop-tarts and chips.  And water.  We gnosh a bit then decide to go gather up our stuff so we can go home and nap.  We get our stuff from the transition area and Morrie and I stay with it while Susan and Jackie take the shuttle back to get the truck.  Morrie and I do some stretching and some massage to get the lactic acid out of our legs while we wait.  And wait.  A few trips to the porta-potties and more waiting.  Then they show up.  We load the bikes up and off we go.

Morrie and I waiting for our ride

We take the bikes back to our house and make arrangements to go to dinner.  I can’t remember if we took a nap or not.  I don’t really remember much.  I remember feeling pretty good.  A little tired, but still good.  I’m pretty sure a shower was had.

My goal for this race was to beat my 2005 times, which I did.  By about 6 minutes.  My final total time was 2:14:30.  And I’m already signed up for next year so I’m going to shoot for a sub-2:00:00.