Running For My Life: Part 2

I was really excited about this race. I was running 3 miles 4-5 times a week. I felt peppier. I slept really well at night. My legs were looking tone. I had a goal in mind that was all mine. Just me, running for me.

Notice I keep talking about the running. I was so proud of myself that I had started to run, that I just kept running. I had it in the back of my mind that I needed to bike, but I figured since I was getting into shape with running, the bike would be no problem. I borrowed a friend’s bike. It wasn’t a road race bike, it was a mountain bike and really heavy. I tried riding it a couple of times and it killed me in my nether regions. Oh, did that hurt. But hey, I was running, so even if the bike hurt, I could skate on the bike part because I was running.

The day of the race came. My husband was really worried about me. He thought I wasn’t ready because of the bike thing. He knew I hadn’t trained on it. He also knew there was no water bottle holder on the bike. He just knew something was going to go wrong. Unfortunately, he was right.

The day before the race I could feel myself coming down with a cold. I had a sore throat, so I didn’t want to drink water. Normally I’m a camel, but when I don’t feel good, I just don’t like to drink. My husband was driving me crazy with his worry about me and the race. He just wouldn’t let me be.

So at 5:30am on the race day in Palm Springs, I headed over to the race venue. I had butterflies in my stomach and hadn’t slept very well the night before. And I didn’t drink water like I needed to, so I wasn’t in the best of shape. We got there, no problem at all. I put my bike in the rack. I left a bottle of water near my bike in my helmet. I still didn’t drink any water like I should. I still had a sore throat and felt tired from the night before. I figured I was ready as I ever would be. Apparently, I was just delusional.

On a dry-tri, they let the swimmers go first because swimming takes more time. There was about a handful of us dry runners. When it was time, they blew a horn and I was off. By now the sun was fully up. I started running and immediately I felt a heaviness in my legs. I felt really, really hot and I had just started running. Three or four of the runners took off and left me and another lady in the dust. I could hear the lady behind me and her footfalls. I was keeping steady, but the heat was killing me and my legs felt like iron poles that just wouldn’t move. The lady behind me, caught up with me and than passed me off. She told me in passing, “I’m sixty, I’m really too old for this.” I told her she was passing me off, so she must be doing something right. I felt like the desert had zapped all of my energy out of me. I was barely running, but it felt like I had been running a marathon. The first mile was a loop that led us back to the bike racks. As I headed to the bike racks my husband was standing there. He asked me how I was doing. I answered honestly, “Not good.” But I kept plugging along.

I got to the bike rack and put on my helmet and walked my bike up the really steep hill that started the bike route. Women were passing me on all sides. I was so zapped of my energy, I didn’t care. I got up to the top of the hill and started riding down. I thought the breeze would cool me off, but I felt so much heat in my body, that the breeze made no difference. I felt a little woozy. I felt tired. I felt really hot. I should have noticed that I was not sweating. That is a really bad sign when one does not sweat. The least amount of movement in my house and I’m usually sweating. Nope. Not at this time.

So I started on the bike path that was completely flat once you got passed that first steep hill. My legs were frozen. I could barely move them. I felt like I was a heater. The first few miles are in direct sunlight. No shade whatsoever. Halfway through and my tire was losing air. I stopped to fill it up with air and to catch my breath. I was moving really slow, but my heart was pounding in my chest. I was shaking. I still wasn’t sweating. The trees around me were moving, even though there was no wind. I felt like I was going to pass out. I pumped up my tire on the bike and stood next to the bike for a bit to try and ease the pounding in my chest. I got back on the bike and my legs still felt like iron poles that wouldn’t move. I was riding my bike really, really slow. I felt shaky, so I decided to walk the bike. If I continued biking, I was afraid I would fall over in the ditch and no one would find me. A cow was across the street and it was staring at me. It watched me from across the road. I yelled at the cow, “What are you staring at?” At least I think I yelled at the cow. The cow was mocking me because I wasn’t riding my bike. The cow didn’t understand why I wasn’t riding my bike like all the other ladies. The cow just wouldn’t stop staring.

When I passed the cow, I got off the bike and just stood there. Things were going in and out of focus. I shakily held onto the bike, but I was sure I was going to pass out. Some racers came up behind me. They stopped and asked me if I was okay. I said I didn’t know. They asked me if I had water, I told them no. One of them handed me their water bottle and I squirted some water in my mouth. Another handed me a little packet of stuff called goo. I squeezed some in my mouth and it made me want to gag. I swallowed it anyway, and I immediately felt a bit better. I didn’t want to keep these nice ladies so I told them they could go, I would be okay. They said there’s a cop up ahead and he could help me. I told them thank you.