I Have A Flat

Believe it or not, at one point in my life I participated in triathlons, specifically sprint triathlons. These are competitive races that include a .46 mile swim, a 12 mile bike ride and a 3.1 mile run. The swim can be open water (Iake, river, bay, etc.) or closed water (swimming pool). All of the sprint triathlons I participated in were closed water events. (see my blog titled Roll, Baby Roll for a laugh & a lesson). Back to the flat.

I was participating (not competing really – just participating) in order to spend time with one of my sisters, get some intense exercise, a t-shirt and a medal. It was a closed water swim in a lazy river – a circular path of water that you floated around while relaxing – at a resort in central Texas. Yes, you could stand up and walk through the water instead of swim, but integrity tells you to swim – until you get kicked in the face by the swimmer in front of you and then you stand up and walk a few steps before you try to swim again without getting kicked in the face. I completed the swim. After the swim you “run” to your bike, put on your racing number belt, helmet and clip shoes and then walk your bike from the rack to the starting point of the bike race.

I am riding my bike – I am moving slowly, but I am moving forward. Did I mention that this triathlon was described as welcoming beginners? Although I didn’t consider myself a beginner, I did not expect the hills on the route. I am not a quitter (I might be a walker, but not a quitter), so I pedaled and pedaled and pedaled with the intention to NOT WALK my bike on the route. I made it through three hills without walking and then I had to make a choice: walk with my bike or fall off my bike because I’m “standing” still, so I walk my bike to the top of the next hill. At the top of the hill, I get back on my bike and maximize gravity down the hill. On my way up the next hill it happens – I get a flat tire.

Despite the very kind efforts of one of the workers at the race to repair my tire (tube for you serious riders) with a business card, the flat could not be fixed. The worker even solicited the help of other riders as they rode by (I tried to discourage him) but the riders responses were less than helpful (“You’re supposed to bring your own repair kit!”) So, my only next option was to walk my bike back to the staging area to put my bike back on the rack and start the run. A small amount of contextual data is that I have bad knees and I was not supposed to run, so I had planned to walk it – finish it, but walking not running. I was there to finish not place.

I started walking my bike back – against bike traffic – to the bike racks/staging area almost a mile away. Because the flat was in the tube and not the tire, by simply looking at my bike it did not look like I had a flat at all. It was hot, I was tired and I had a flat, but I kept going. This is where it gets interesting (in a good way). Some of the riders in the race (there weren’t many behind me, but there were some) were headed down the road I had just been on. These kind riders shared words of encouragement with me such as, “You got this!” and “You can do it!” While I greatly appreciated their care, I wanted to shout out that I had a flat. Why? Because my ego wanted people to know I was not a quitter.

Then I caught a lucky break: one of the race workers came by in a golf cart and asked if I needed help. I told him I would appreciate a ride to the bike staging area, so I got in the cart and held my bike up off the road with my right hand (it is a light road bike – I’m not that strong) and got a ride all the way to the sidewalk that led to the staging area. It is worth noting that this race was in a resort area with condos. And it was such a pretty day, it seemed like everyone was on their balcony to cheer on the race participants, including me. As I walked on the sidewalk with my bike, I was engulfed in kindness with shouts from the observers: “You can do it!”, “Don’t give up!”, “I believe in you!”, “You’re almost to the finish line!” and “Finish strong!” At this point, with tears in my eyes I began to tell them (not in a mean way) “I have a flat.” I said it so many times, I was thinking I need to have a shirt that said that on the front and the back.

Looking back, I laugh at this memory. I also reflect on what I learned – other than the hard lesson of keeping a flat repair kit on my bike at all times. Other things I learned are (1) the influence of ego, (2) the power of mindset and (3) gratitude for authentic kindness – kindness provided without knowing the circumstances & the value of providing and accepting it. To all of the athletes (people who like to move their bodies on purpose in sporting-event ways) that are reading this – official, Olympic, professional, amateur, weekend warrior and first timer: Maximize your joy by letting your ego go flat and rising to a level of participation and kindness that makes you feel your best.

Roll, Baby Roll

I started doing sprint triathlons a long time ago – just for the challenge. A sprint triathlon is a race made up of a .46 mile swim, a 12 mile bike ride and a 3.1 mile race. I am easily bored and enjoy trying different activities that keep me moving. I had done indoor rock climbing, zip lines, long-distance bike “races” (25 and 50 milers), 5k runs and duathlons (bike-run-bike). After doing my first sprint triathlon and struggling with the transition from the swim to the bike – yes, you have to put on shorts and a shirt on over a wet bathing suit and put on socks and shoes – I decided I needed a more “professional” way to do this transition. (yes, I thought I needed to be more professional after one race, one race that I did not even get close to winning but I did finish.)

So I looked online to see what the professionals wore: it was what I would describe as a “onesy swimming suit short set.” So now I had my goal and started shopping. So I shopped online and bought the only one I could afford. I got it in the mail and got super excited to try it on! I tried it on and it fit – YES, it fit and made me feel like a million bucks. Until I saw the emblem on the front: it said “Orca.” I’ll be honest – I was in no way secure enough in myself to wear a wetsuit (basically) of shorts with that word on it; I basically considered it a descriptor. So THAT item got returned. I then decided that – for me – the price of comfort is higher than the cost of judgment. I returned that suit and got another one that was better in many ways, mainly in that I was comfortable and felt empowered.

I was ready for my next triathlon race. This race was in the Corpus Christi area – think sand and sun. The swim was in a smaller pool than my first race and it was super crowded. I got kicked in the face more than once. As always, my loving husband was there to support me. As I swam, he was walking along the side of the pool with his cup of coffee telling me, “Don’t make me get in there.” in a joking way to try to get me to relax. I kept going and finished the swim. At the end of the swim I was exhausted (already) and really out of breath. It was then that I realized that there were no steps to get out of the pool…and I was in water up to my chest. I had to lift myself out of the pool. After multiple failed attempts on my own, my husband reached down to help me out of the pool, but I told him, “Don’t touch me babe-I’ll be disqualified.” Now I did not actually know that if that was true, but as a “wanna-be” professional, that felt right. I made a few more failed attempts to lift myself out of the pool. Then my husband shouted at me, “Roll, baby roll!!” and that was the magic that allowed me to get out of the pool: rolling onto the cement like a whale…like an Orca. The irony was NOT lost on me and I thought, “Well – here you are and there you go.”

I made it to my bike after a stumbling “jog” – the effort I had expended during the swim (breathing & nerves) and in getting out of the pool had left me a little disoriented (just like a professional, right? LOL). It was so easy & fast to get my socks on, put on my clip shoes, get on my bike and hit the road. I rode as fast as I could for all 12 miles.

Once I got back to the bike rack staging area, I had gotten my second wind and I was excited to finish the race in perhaps my best time (out of two races). My “onesy” suit was working out perfectly. As I changed my shoes from my bike pedal clip shoes to my running shoes, I saw another racer taking off his shoes, too. I excitedly told my husband, “Look! I’m doing ok. He’s changing shoes too!” Then my loving husband put his arm around on my shoulder and gently told me, “Babe – he’s finished.” He could see the disappointment on my face but encouraged me with, “You keep going! You are doing great! You go run and do your best!” So I did. I ran (in the sand) and finished. I didn’t even care about my time because I knew I had done my best. I did more races after this and finished each one – each one has its own stories (unopened Goo, running with a helmet on, licking the inside of the package of an empty package of skittles trying to get sugar/energy, staying ahead of the guy picking up the safety cones, beating #12 with my sister and a finish line with just family and the mat that electronically recorded time), but that is another blog or three. If this story made you laugh, I’m glad. It makes me laugh, too, even today. Laughing is a healthy thing to do for our bodies and our minds. In my opinion if we can laugh at ourselves as we grow and learn, then that makes the learning – even learning the hard things – easier. Due to bad knees (from my intense athletic endeavors…lol) I don’t do duathlons or triathlons any more., but I continue to learn and laugh. I hope you do the same – keep smiling!