Well.
Today was the Red Hills Triathlon, and I did not finish. That’s right. DNF.
I cramped up in the middle of the swim – a swim that, I might add, was beautiful until the point of failure. And was loaded up by the rescue boat. And was pulled back to shore.
It’s a long way from the beginning of my training regimen to this point. I feel like I’ve traversed a lifetime of training roadblocks and have made it through to the final countdown. And then, in the throes of what was supposed to be one of the best days of my life, I botch it.
I know I didn’t really botch it. I know cramps happen, the quads tighten up for no good reason and ruin a good day for most anyone sometimes. But why me? Why today? And why on the best sport of the tri? Why my swim?
It kills me, you know. It just kills my pride. I feel like I can’t even look people in the eye because THEY’LL KNOW. Which is stupid, of course. Hardly anyone even knows I competed in this triathlon today, fewer will even ask about it, and even fewer, well, care. ;) Which in this case is just fine, thank you very much.
I’m just feeling depressed about it. I came halfway across the country in order to prove something to myself, and instead I left after the first event was over. I gained a T-shirt and water bottle. But I didn’t gain the standing of “triathlete.” It kills me. It just KILLS me. I am so depressed this afternoon, even when I’m trying to sound nonchalant about it to the whole world. I am just feeling so despondent, I don’t even know what to do.
So I guess I’ll start training again, working toward the next race, which by my estimation is taking place in August. Got a 10K next month that I’m excited about. Maybe I can fit in another triathlon before August, too, just to get in some practice.
So. Where’s the bright side?
For me, the bright side consists of all the things that took place before The Cramp this morning. It was bright-eyed volunteers wielding flashlights against the lonesome Florida dark, wishing me a good race. It was all the newbies I met at the transition stalls. It was the music, the sunrise, the stretching, the eating of the bananas and drinking of the Gatorade. It was everything. It was the swim up until The Cramp. It was the kindness of the volunteers who helped me AFTER The Cramp. It was everything. Just everything.
Except The Cramp.
And so, I’ll do it again, I suppose. I enjoyed what little I did. And I do want to finish one. It pains me to absolutely no end to know that I didn’t finish THIS one. I literally feel sick to my stomach. Just sick. I suppose that will lessen with time, but right now, I feel so sad and so sorry for myself, I just don’t know what to do.
So I’ll play with my parents’ kittycat. I’ll meander about the yard. I’ll try to forget this morning ever happened. It’ll get easier with time.
This morning I learned that my neighbors’ beloved dog had to be put to sleep. THAT’s something to be upset about. Not this. Not a little muscle spasm. So the time for wallowing is quickly passing me by. I’d better get ready for the next race.
:)
