1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run triathlon.
This day meant war.
I prepped by eating war food...
I prepped in private war territory...
I wore war paint...
I dressed in war attire...
To win my war meant to win a slot to Worlds 70.3 in Vegas. Training showed I’d get that slot awhile back but things didn’t line up that way. To get a slot to Worlds would mean I had earned a new challenge, and I like a new challenge….
I spent the majority of this year in transition. One day in late 2012, I decided to transition from short distance to longer half ironman distance, or from Olympic distance racing to 70.3 racing. It meant changing focus, but it really meant creating a new path in adventure. So the plan, as usual was to roll with it, and see what happens. So far nothing, so I decided it was time for war!
The Details Report:
Vineman 70.3 Triathlon was held in Windsor, California. I’m not going to lie, I chose this race for the scenery and for the road trip vacation it would bring. For the most part, vineyards surround you the majority of the race. I also wanted a good challenge in the race itself, and I heard through the grape vine that the competitive line up would be solid.
The Russian river is unique. Surrounded by trees, it is shallow and narrow. It’s an out and back course totaling 1.2 miles. Entering the water we all look up to see a beautiful bald eagle perched high up on a tree above. Start whistle goes off and into the river we swim. The river is so narrow that you are forced to swim straight. And straight I swam for once, which I am very proud of. So with that said, I would say it was an alright swim for me!
All I remember on the bike course was looking at the grapes passing by.
I had a plan for the run and had to stick with my run plan. Rolling hills, some mild heat and, you got that right, more vineyards! Staying focused on my run plan meant conquering war. I consumed not too much nor too little calories this time around, a first for this distance! So far so good. Opps, mile 11 said, "Hello" loud and clear. That’s when my body wanted to stop and sit down this day. Sitting down wouldn't happen. So this is the time I started drifting into thoughts of my Uncle battling Parkinson’s Disease. These times of pain ain’t nothing compared to what he (and his family) go through each and every day. I told him I’d race this day for him.
Deep down I felt that somehow winning this war meant it would cure my Uncle of Parkinson’s disease.
My finish line crossing time read 4 hours and 46 minutes. I took 3rd in my age group and 5th overall (female) age grouper.
The Worlds 70.3 slots were awarded to the top 3 in my age group (and roll from there). I accepted my slot gleefully along with a bottle of wine.
Victory At War!
There’s only one thing; there’s still no cure to Parkinson’s Disease.
Thanks for reading and until next time…