I’ll start this out with saying, I wasn’t mentally into this race. The day before was crazy at work, and then I got home and didn’t even feel like I had a race the next day, it was just odd. Paris Mountain Tri, is just that, you ride over a mountain and then you run up it and come back down via trails. I was on bedrest when this race was held last year, and this is only the 2nd year its been held. Prior to pregnancy I dreamt of this race, I love (loved) hills and couldn’t imagine anything better than climbing the mountain on the bike and then doing it on the run . .. .then enter having a baby. Let’s just say hills aren’t quite my forte as they used to be.
Race morning went a little fast, I had Addison with me and my partner in crime (Sarah) was meeting me there to watch him. Sarah showed up just in time for me to steal her quick tie shoelaces and get a warmup in. Susan and I went out for a little jog just to see where the “hill” started and finish ended. I was feeling a little off, my hamstring was achey just doing the warmup. …I started to worry how’d it feel racing. I got back to transition, met Addison and Sarah, and headed over to the swim start forcing all negative thoughts out.
I positioned myself a little to the front not quite sure where that’d put me on this time trial type start. It turns out no one else knew what to do when the word “go” was said, so as everyone stood there looking at each other. I figured I might as well jump in feet first and get this party started. I got a party started alright, and it wasn’t the good kind. When I jumped in the shallow murky water I jumped right on what used to be the edge of a cement pier. Ouch! Ok, I’ll be honest . . .that wasn’t what I really said. After the shock of what felt like a jab of lightning into my foot I decided to hurry up and swim and get this over with. I’m sure that swim was way past anaerobic unlike where I spend most of my swims. I finally reach shore, and realize swimming was much better than trying to run to transition on this bum foot.
I hobble out of transition muttering ugly things to myself and become very aware that my foot is NOT okay. I think I spent the first 4-5 miles of the bike trying to decide what to do. Literally every pedal stroke is excruciating. I begin to wonder if all the sogginess in my shoe is blood. I’m convinced that the right side is much soggier then the left and finally decide to stop and check it out. I take my foot out of my shoe, and much to my relief don’t find a blood soaked sock. Time to HTFU. I put my shoe back on and finally commit. I can now quit struggling w/the “what to do’s” that I kept repeating and get to racing. About this time is when I truly started to race and tune everything else out. I think what was getting me through it all was how incredibly pissed I was. Thankfully the anger fueled me just in time to hit the 2.2 mile 1100 foot climb. I tried to go hard but stay steady b/c the race wasn’t over after this, not only did I still have half the bike left but I still had to do the same climb on the run. I stayed steady and rode hard trying not to think about anything but this ride. I felt good with my effort as a I came into transition, but started to dread my next task ahead.
I roll into transition attempting to not think about how bad just putting my shoes on is going to be much less the running in them. I try to grin and bear it, but I’m pretty sure I might have cried at that point. . .or maybe something just got in my eye. Anyway, the run starts out as a gradual uphill for about a mile. Mile 1.5 is where it gets fun, the gradual uphill turns into a 12% grade and you climb almost 600 feet in a mile. The spot where I hit my foot was right in the middle where the arch is, so the extension that happens when you run uphill wasn’t delightful AT ALL. I alternated jogging for a few mins. or maybe one, and then trying to fast walk. Nothing was comfortable and I just wanted to be done. Finally after what seems like a million switchbacks I reach the top, now I just have downhill on the trails. I’m hoping I can make up some time, but I know that the impact of running downhill paired w/being on the trail isn’t going to be pretty. I pass a few people and just keep repeating to myself, the faster I’m done the faster I can sit down, the faster I’m done the faster I can sit down. After what feels like an eternity I see the end to the trails, now just about 1/3 of a mile around a corner and up a short hill. I hear my friends cheering, they yell at me to hustle. . . they tell me surely I have more to give…I may have given them the finger, but I’d plead the 5th in court to that. I cross the finish line and hear them announce that I’m the first female to finish. All I wanted was medical, I could have cared less.
I see one of my docs and told him what happened. They take my shoe off and look at the bottom of my foot, it was ugly. The color had already turned blue and the knot was the width of an orange. They put some ice on it and tell me to get some xrays just to be sure nothing is broken. Everyone was beyond helpful. Sarah was great, as always, with Addison and Jeff even helped feed him his cheese puffs. Susan did a great job cheering for me, and even took 1st overall in the sprint. I finished 2nd overall female and 1st in my age group, I can’t complain about the placing.
Addison and I went straight to MD360 and got xrays, and much to my relief nothing was broken. The day didn’t go as planned, I did pout and sulk, but I never gave up.
