say no

This weekend was great. I got away with 2 good friends to Luray,VA. We rented a cabin in the foothills and basically did a whole lot of nothing when we weren't watching or participating in the triathlons. It's so necessary to get out of DC on a regular basis- at least for me.

I think I first contemplated doing a triathlon when I lived in San Francisco. There were a few barriers to it, one of which was that I didn't have a bike. I never seriously pursued it- simply focused on running and a bit of swimming on the side. Why I didn't pursue it then in a prime city for triathlon training I don't know. In Atlanta, I gained a bike but still never took the plunge to do one. Last year my athletic goal was to run a marathon and I felt I couldn't foray into triathlons while adjusting to life here and (sort of) training for my marathon. So, this was the year to make my triathlon debut. I decided to do this relatively small community sprint triathlon a month before doing a much larger olympic distance race so that I would have adequate prep and a chance to get my feet wet. Plus, I'm always in favor of doing races with friends and my friend had already signed up. Needless to say, competing in the triathlon this weekend was kinda a long time coming.

The weather was great, the company enjoyable, the athlete culture at the event was pretty chill... I really couldn't have asked for a better first triathlon. I was happy to watch the olympic distance the day before mine to get an idea of what I would be doing. I wasn't really nervous, just apprehensive about the swim, which I consider my weakest event by far.

I started the swim trying to have a calm, open mind about jumping in a lake with a few hundred people, swimming (if you can call it that) in the same direction using different strokes and sometimes blindly pushing towards the next buoy. My preferred stroke, freestyle, quickly became my least favorite and I found myself doing backstroke, breaststroke, and sidestroke almost instinctively. I never really freaked out, but there was a point in time when I thought "what really is the point of this?". I was so excited to finish the swim, knowing I had been slow, but that I never stopped and made it through.

My transition to the bike was, I think, relatively smooth for my first ever. No, my shoes weren't already clipped in and my bike was stationary when I mounted, but I didn't fumble or lose track of what I was doing.

Out on the bike, the road was kind of wet from the rain the night before. It was rough in places and the course was hilly. I felt great, though, consistently passing other athletes, which made me think I was making up for my slow swim. I had just thought how much I was enjoying being out in the VA farm country on my bike, passed a woman who took the turn way too slow, when I felt my back tire go flat. I got off my bike and spent the next 30 minutes attempting to patch the tire with no success. I had stopped in front of a house, so a little boy and his grandpa (who apparently lived there) came out to see what was wrong. Neither one of them knew how to change the tire, but they definitely kept me company with their conversation. It was endearingly distracting.

I made the decision that I didn't think I could successfully patch the tire and even if the tire would hold air initially, I wasn't sure that I ultimately trusted my ability to patch the tire well. This meant that I wouldn't finish the race- my first ever DNF. For some, this is a big deal. For me, overall I wanted to be safe and realistic with myself so I felt this was the best, and perhaps my only option.

I don't think of myself as a quitter. In general, I also don't say no to obligations and commitments very easily. If it had been a matter of my body being tired of being pushed to its limits, I wouldn't have allowed a DNF to be an option. This felt, in some way, out of my control. As I reflected on this later, I find this to be the case in many situations in which I've said no- I didn't feel responsible for saying no, so somehow it made it okay.

This was a humbling weekend for me. I'm pleased with how I prepared for the race and what I learned from it. I'll be more prepared next time. It doesn't mean that I won't possibly have something go wrong again next time, but at least I'll be doing what I can to avoid it. I have a stronger resolve to push myself and to do well in my next triathlon. I'm hopeful there will be growth in my performance next month. But more than all of this, I hope that I'm gaining the ability to say no even without it being "forced" upon me by unforeseen circumstances or being decided for me by someone who is more reasonable.