triathlete, part uno

I had a goal. My goal was to finish a sprint-distance (not sprint speed, for me anyway) triathlon. My friend Kerri (which is short for Kerrianne) and I discussed entering one together early in the year, and finally we signed up for the Salem Spring Triathlon, which consists of the following:

~800 meter swim (that's a half-mile)
~13 mile bike ride
~5K run (that's 3.1 miles)

I came in dead last.

Someone has to, right?

Kerri lives in Twin (which is short for Twin Falls, Idaho), and she made the drive down here to Provo a few weeks ago so that we could do a run-through. It was then that I began to panic. It was shortly thereafter when I realized that being in a state of panic would do me no good and lots of harm. I began the process of mentally preparing to come in last place. After EVERYONE. To the few people with whom I even discussed the fact that I was going to be racing, I'd muse that I would, in fact, be the last to finish. Hahaha, they said, as they thought I was making a joke.

I wasn't.

For someone who grew up learning that second place is the first loser (no fear), and grew up feeling that if it couldn't be won then the race wasn't worth entering, arriving at a I'm-Doing-This-To-Do-It state of mind took much effort, sprinkled with tears, blessings, and lots and lots of prayer.

But I arrived.

And yesterday I had a WONDERFUL time. I stunk at the swim (my strong point) as I struggled to breathe in the stupid wetsuit. I took time during the bike ride to enjoy the beautiful scenery. I walked 90% of the run.

But I did it.

Next goal: Finish a tri in NOT last place.