The Triathlon

I suppose since I've been complaining about this bitch for so long I owe you guys a recap. Before I get started, let me give you a little background that is related to my race on Sunday.

The week prior to my race, Team in Training scheduled a practice at Brighton Beach at Coney Island. For those of you who aren't familiar with Coney Island, it's a beach located on the south shore of Long Island in Brooklyn. It has an amusement park, lots of funnel cakes, The Brooklyn Cyclones (the Mets minor league team), and home to Nathan's Annual Hot Dog Eat Contest (what up Joey Chestnut!).

They had us practicing out there to get us used to open water swim. Perhaps you've seen Open Water, or maybe you haven't, but hopefully you understand why this is such a fear for people. I wasn't that scared as I grew up on lakes and was constantly swimming in water where I could not see the bottom. This last weekend was a little different. After 15 minutes of swimming, I got a painful sensation on my left arm. It felt like a really really really bad sunburn, the kind where your skin gets spotty. I knew immediately it was a jellyfish as I saw some that were beached before I entered the water. I doggy paddled my way back to the beach and told my coach I was done. I asked him if there would be jellies in the Hudson, and he assured me that "the water is too dirty for jellies." THUMBS UP!

So cut to the race morning. I got up at 4am for a 6:20 swim start. The Olympians went first, then the "elite" athletes (this would be like if Lance Armstrong was participating), and the rest of us were divided into different gender and age groups. The women went first to shorten the length of the time from first to last runner.

Since the Olympians went in at 5:50 there was 30 minutes from the time I jumped in from when they were swimming. I actually saw them on my mile long walk to the swim start.

Finally it was my age groups time to go and I jumped in. The water was warm. Not as dirty as I expected, and it tasted like the ocean. I heard last year that a girl swam into a diaper, but as I was swimming I saw no trash. So far so good.

Then I felt it. The same pain I felt the week prior. That painful stinging on my hand. I looked at my hand and saw the same swelling. Yep! I was stung by a jellyfish again! I kept on swimming, but the pain worsened, and in different areas. My feet, arms, face, lip. Yes, I did say my lip. I was wearing a wetsuit, but it was sleeveless and as I pulled my arm out once again my entire forearm was swollen.

I tried to swim faster but the psychological damage was done. At one point I swam by something bright red that looked kinda hairy. At the time I thought it was a head and screamed, but turns out that was the jellyfish. You can imagine how close I was to see such a thing in the dirty water of the Hudson. By now I am about 3/4ths done with the swim when I look up and see people swimming on their backs. You're supposed to do this to keep yourself from panicking. I asked everyone around me if they were getting stung too, and I was answered with a lot of f-bombs. At least it wasn't just me, right?

A few seconds later I then manage to grab on to something squishy mid-stroke. The pain was then all over my hand. That's right! If I didn't manage to piss off enough jellies by swimming into them, I managed to grab onto one! AWESOME!

Finally I finished and washed off all the sting with fresh water and hopped on my bike. The ride was pleasant enough, but it was starting to get really really hot so I was getting more and more tired. I was still going strong though. The last leg was running, and that's what I am best at.

When I finish my bike ride, the time was about 8:30am and the temperature outside was about 85 degrees. I don't know if any of you have run in that kind of heat, with NYC humidity and no shade, but it is MIZ-ZER-ABLE. After a mile I felt like I was going to throw up. The energy bars I was trying to consume were wreaking havoc on my gastrointestinal tract, and I actually contemplated taking a break in the woods, if you know what I mean. I hope you do cause I don't want to explain any further.

I've run in Central Park probably about 75 times in my life. I know it well and can run the 6 mile loop pretty easily. A couple weeks ago I ran it in 52 minutes. Now, I knew I was going to be a little slower because I was tired, but a couple weeks ago I biked for an hour in 15 minutes (15 miles), and then ran the loop in 54 minutes. This time it took me an 1 hour 1 minute. That's a huge gap in times for 6 miles. By the time I was done, I'd say the heat index was close to, if not over 90 degrees.

I spent the rest of the day sitting on my couch thanking God that it was over, and that I'd never ever ever do it again.

Then this morning, I come into work and see this:

MAN DIES IN NYC TRIATHLON

Some guy apparently went into cardiac arrest during the swim and died. I found that his initial autopsy found his death to be inconclusive and are awaiting toxicology reports about the stings. His heat was an hour after mine, so I was well on my bike ride when he was found. The woman mentioned, was in fact, during my heat or one right before or after me cause I heard about it during my swim.

Anyways...I finished in 3:15--about 15 minutes slower than I was hoping, but at least I finished right? Poor guy.

Never again.

Who the fuck gave this guy a camera?

Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating. (Note to JHC: don't click that link unless you want to be sent into a blind rage)

This movie quite possibly surpassed The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers as my favorite movie of all time. Now this douche, who clearly doesn't understand anything, is shoving his face with Twinkies saying Heath's performance was good, "not amazing...worked with what was given to him."

More on this later. Triathlon starts tomorrow at 6:20 am (I have to get up at 4am. Weee!) so maybe I can start blogging again.