| It was called the Troika Triathlon, a 1.2 mile swim, a 58 mile bicycle race,
and a 13.1 mile run, which started in a little nearby town called Medical Lake, Washington, a town built around a lake of the same name. It was a favorite training ground of mine, and it boasted the Eastern Washington insane asylum. So it was the perfect stage for a half-Ironman triathlon. I guess they had vacancies.|
I'd always wanted to do a triathlon and almost raced this same race in 1991 only to come to my senses and back out the day before, because I'd not trained for this specific type of competition. In 1992 I tried very hard to get into shape after Brenda's June wedding, and I put so much into it that I was smelling amonia when I showered. I later discovered this was the smell of burning muscle. I was working out so hard I was literally burning up. It put a strain on my marriage too, but we survived and it was worth it.
The above photo is from the 2003 race, and it's from another website...I just wanted to show what the start looked like. The first thing I noticed after the swim got underway (besides all the swimmers pulling away from me), was there are no painted lines under me to guide me in the right direction, and no walls to hang on to if I got tired. I HAD to swim...I'd never swum anything but pools before.*gulp*
|couldn't see when I pulled my head out to do my sidestroke. I tried to slip them around my neck, but they were so tight they were strangling me. I began struggling to
pull them off with one arm while using the other to keep afloat. It looked ugly from a distance, not only because I looked like I was struggling, but because with all my effort, I was in dead last place. A paddle boat came by, and the occupants calmly
asked,"Do you need medical attention?" By the finish I'd passed two
'swimmers' and came out of the water 3rd from last, with a 58 mile
bicycle race, and a 13.1 mile run ahead of me. Advice...don't ever enter a
triathlon if you can't swim! The good part about a triathlon in a filthy lake is, you can drink all you want before the race, and if you have to go, you just go. Oh, and swim clear of the smiling swimmers with the glazed look in their eyes.|
On left photo, I'd just left the water with seaweed, dirt and a variety of fish fesis streaming off my body, unable to walk straight, trying to ride straight until the oxygen returned to my brain.