Up at 3:45 a.m.? For a race?!?!

PART I

Really, people. you have to be a special kind of something to get up at 3:45 a.m. for anything. That time reserved for the core of your nightly sleep. But yesterday, that was me. I was up before the crack of dawn, ready to take on my second-ever triathlon in Norwalk, CT. I had full intentions of going to bed no later than 9:00, but when there are children in your life, you learn quickly that sometimes, your hopes and intentions are just that: hopes and intentions. I didn't hit the bed until I fed the dog, walked the dog, threw out the garbage, and racked my bike up to the back of the car. Bedtime turned out to be 10:45. My wife insisted that I go to bed and that she'd handle whatever she could, but I felt guilty leaving her with the rest of the nightly chores while she tended to our two visiting nieces. Did I mention my nieces were staying with us? Not exactly a peaceful night before race day at the Casa de SoulBrother.

3:45 a.m.- Alarm went off. No snooze button today. I lubed up, threw on my gear and grabbed breakfast: Cheerios, an orange, homemade iced coffee. I would have liked to have some oatmeal, but there was no time for that. And based on my experience from the CapTex Triathlon in May, my body just doesn't respond to heavy meals on race day.

4:20-Out the door. You know, the city sky doesn't seem so muggy and dreary at this time of day. There's a sense of beauty to the crescent moon and 16 stars (yes, I really counted).

4:50-Driving along I-95 North. Raphael Saddiq's "Live at the House of Blues" album was keeping me company. The best part was when he reunited with Tony Toni Tone and they performed their medley of hits. I find myself lately wondering where the good music went. Something about today's "singers" disturb me. But I digress. I've had no element of fear and/or nervousness this whole weekend-until I saw the "Welcome to Connecticut" border sign. Oh boy. Here come the flutters in my stomach. I needed a bathroom. I needed to pull over. I thought I might even need to make a U-turn and head south. Seriously, was I ready for this??

5:30-I arrived at Calf Pasture Beach. East Norwalk is a pretty town, by the way. It reminded me of Mystic, CT or the Nautical Mile in Freeport, NY. My wave was scheduled to start at 6:45. I felt that 1:15 would be enough time to register, set up in transition, and do my usual restroom ritual (see my last blog if you're curious of what that last part is about). Speaking of which, a man announced over the PA system where the restrooms were. To my surprise and glee, they were REAL RESTROOMS!! NO PORT-O-POTTIES!!! I felt my confidence building up again just off of that announcement. This day was going to be great. And the weather, I must add, was gorgeous. Let me find my place on the registration line...

5:55-Okay, why is this line so long? I'm nowhere near the sign-in desk. I heard people around me share my concern. Some competitors were convinced that the race wouldn't start on time. They weren't complaining over it; they thought the extra time would be necessary, considering the length of the registration line. I haven't seen the transition area yet. Man, the last thing I needed was to miss my wave, and miss the race. That couldn't happen, right? RIGHT??

6:10-I'm signed in. Whew. I receive my BIB #: 526. My goodie bag has some very interesting items: a Conair brush and stretch mark removal lotion to name a few. What am I supposed to do with this? Heading over to transition, I saw no space for my things. Very nice. I looked at how pretty the other racers hogged up the space. "Wow, look at that" I thought to myself, "A helmet got its own area". Then I looked over to my left, where this guy with a beach towel-sized mat was using only a third of the towel for his things. I decided not to mess with anyone's routine, so I set up against the wall. Three-quarters of the way through my set-up, a race official came over to tell me that I had to set up on a bike rack.

Me: "But it's too full"
Him: "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I know it's a pain"
Me: "So can I at least find an open space somewhere else?"
Him: "No. You have to stay in the designated area"
Me: "But it's too...

I stopped my thought right there. This was not the day to argue. I was nervous already.

Just then, an announcement was made: "ALL TRIATHLETES PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE BEACH". I wasn't near ready to move on. I hadn't put on my wetsuit, hadn't gone to the restroom. I hadn't even set up my running and cycling gear the way I would've wanted. My stuff was all over the place. So much for the fung schway transition area I wanted to set up: I gotta get outta here!! If my Team in Training coaches saw the discombobulation that was my transition, I think they would've forced me to run 5 bricks and 10 90-minute out-an-backs.

6:20-restroom break. Needed that.

6:30-off to the beach. Wave 1 already started. It looked peaceful. I got some strokes in and the water was quite relaxing. I especially liked the fact that you can walk into the swim, rather than jumping in like you'd have to do in a lake. Upon review of the swim course, I set up my game plan: at every buoy (6), stop for a one minute rest.

6:35-Wave 2 started their swim

6:40-Wave 3 started their swim. With my last 5 minutes, I said a quick prayer, made little chit-chat with a couple 1st-timers and stayed to the rear of the pack. It's more important for me to stay by myself than get punches and kicks to the head. I am NOT ready to deal with that yet.

6:45-The horn went off. So did I. Part two comes tomorrow...