
I wish I could say I started Sunday’s race with a graceful dive off the side of the San Francisco Belle, but that would be a blatant lie.
I started with a bellyflop.
After the race Jordan said he had never seen me so nervous before a race. I was nervous for the race, nervous about how my knees would hold up on the rugged course, but more than anything I was nervous about how I would get off the boat.
It happened quickly. We were sitting around the boat when all of a sudden we gathered near the doorway and made our way onto the deck. I was one of the last pros out so I got the less-than-stellar position of second-to-last person all the way to the right. Everyone I wanted to be with was 15 feet to my left, 15 feet closer to shore. My plan was to make the decision on whether to dive or not a game-time one. The horn went off and I dove. Then I got scared, and mid-air changed the dive to a feet first jump that resulted in a bellyflop.
I recovered well from the subpar start and hammered as best I could. I caught a little pack and swam happily for a couple minutes, surrounded by white swim caps (pro men) and some pink swim caps (pro women). At one point I sighted and realized the feet I were on were none other than Jordan’s. I hoped I was having a great swim and he wasn’t having a bad one (turns out it was a mix of both). The water got choppy and rough for a bit and suddenly I was on my own. No longer able to play the remora I got to work and tried as hard as I could to chase down a pink cap far ahead. I never caught her and instead ended up towing along a pro guy the rest of the way to shore.

Usually my run to the first transition is hurting, but after a quick change into my old race flats (outfitted with curly laces!) I was able to run the ½ mile quickly, even passing two girls. It’s the first time in history that I’ve passed someone coming out of the swim.
Out on the bike I got passed by two girls about a mile and a half in and wasn’t able to keep them in sight for long. My bike fitness is improving, but apparently not enough to expect to ride with the big girls yet. I kept focused, only noticed one puppy the entire 18 mile ride, and tried not to do anything stupid when the TV camera motored up to me and stayed with me for about 10 minutes. I had some age group men catch up to me and managed to battle it out with a few for a good portion of the bike. I choked down 2 gels on the bike, one in the beginning and one with just a few minutes left, which provided me with plenty of energy for the 8 mile run.
I took T2 nice and leisurely, even taking time to put socks on. Normally I would never do this, but since the course was technical and sandy the last thing I wanted to deal with was a blister. My strategy was to take the run out hard, really push on the flat first 2 miles and deal with the rest of the course when it came. I’m not a good climber, I’m more of a flats/downhill type runner, so I wanted to have enough in me to use that to my advantage on those sections of the course. I loved the run. It was perfect for me. The tight, technical trail, running through the tunnel, the steep downhill…I loved it. My running shape has deteriorated in the last few weeks as my knees have gotten worse, but it didn’t matter: I was running on a high…by then I knew I was having a good race, I was within the top 10, the trail was absolutely incredible, and these were the last miles I would run for who-knows-how-long. I constantly told myself not to save an ounce, this was it, leave everything here.

And I did! I finished in 8th place, by far my best race to date. It was the hardest I’ve ever raced in a triathlon and afterward I was totally spent. Lying in bed that afternoon I ached like I’ve never ached before. I feel like I have finally figured out how to race a triathlon!

There’s usually a point in every race where I just want it to be done, I start to hate it, wonder what I’m doing out there when I could be enjoying a nice brunch, but that never happened in this race. I wanted to stay out in the water, I wanted to stay on the bike, and I didn’t want the finish line to come when I was running. …and I guess that makes sense, because as soon as the finish line came I was put on hiatus.
The hiatus wasn’t so bad on Monday, I was hurting so badly I don’t think I could have done much anyway. Now it’s been 3 days though and it’s getting ugly. I’m beyond antsy. All I want to do is be out training on my bike, getting my time trialing together. In time…

Some nice company! An Olympic medalist and a couple world champions...
A big thanks to my Mom and Dad who flew out to San Francisco from NJ for their first triathlon spectating experience! They took loads of great pictures — all of them in this post and all the ones uploaded to Flickr today. Thanks guys!! Maybe now you don’t think Jordan and I are so crazy for always having to squeeze in 2 training sessions per day when we visit??