My First Triathlon: Triathamom (Part 2: TRI and Succeed!)

(Find Part 1 outlining the preparations for my first triathlon here.)

After a year's worth of mental and physical preparation for my first triathlon I was really surprised to find my nerves were very calm the day before and on race day. Excited, yes. Nervous, not so much. This is very unusual for me. I always expect to get zero rest the night before an event. Last night I actually got about 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Woah. Definitely unexpected. Absolutely appreciated.

My alarm went off at 5:45 am. I got up and dressed and roused the house. For breakfast I ate an English muffin with crunchy peanut butter and a slice of watermelon. This worked well for my tummy today. We drove the 20 minutes to South County Pool in Riverton while my son chattered non-stop about Legos. I finally turned to him and asked him *nicely* to be quiet. (So maybe I was a little more nervous than I thought.)

Age on the right calf

Check out my tats

#559

We parked and I made my way over to set up in the transition area. Dee carried my bucket for me while I pushed my bike. (Note to self: bring a bigger bucket with a handle next time in case I have to pull a one-woman show). I set up my bike and helmet, shoes and socks, hung my towel on the bar, and taped my Ziploc baggie of fruit strips and capsules (anti-fatigues and endurolytes from Hammer) to my bike bar. (Note to self: buy one of those real attachments to carry things on your bike. Also, bring more water. Possibly a jug of it. One more thing: a better marker, like balloons, so I can quickly find my bike in the mass.) Then I waited in line for the port-o-potties. Dee hung out with me and it was fun having one of "my people" with me instead of being alone. We watched the sun rise while we waited. What a beautiful day!

My Port-O-Potty Pal

The best pit crew/cheerleading squad a mom could ask for!

At 7:25 am it was time to walk over to the pool for a briefing.  I sipped on a mixture of water and Beach Body Energy and Endurance while I listened and chatted with other ladies in the crowd. Soon, the event began and the Expert group of swimmers were in the water. I waded into the pool on the side worried I would need some time to acclimate, but the water was the perfect temperature so I made my way back to the deck and tried to figure out where I should be.

I can swim 300 meters in about 9 minutes which is right in between two classes. I wasn't sure if I should be bold and join the Intermediate class taking the risk of being dead last or if I should wait around for the Beginner class and let the time grate on my nerves. I decided to go for it and hope that adrenaline pushed me over that 9 minute line.

I for Intermediate

All my worrying really didn't matter in the end. There were obvious beginners in the pool along with experts. It was rather chaotic even though the race director seemed pleased and shouted something about how we were going to get all the swimmers through in record time. I wandered into the "line/crowd" where a bunch of other Intermediate ladies were.

As I got closer they called for the rest of the Advanced swimmers and a few ladies came forward. I thought I was in a pack of Intermediates but it turned out I was one of the first Intermediates to go. Oh well. I was anxious to get started and it ended up being a really excellent spot to be in. I was able to swim at my own pace without anyone passing me and me having to pass anyone. I did catch up to someone, but I held back a bit and let her pull ahead just for the sake of not having to crawl over each other.

I swam a little faster than I normally would but I really tried to keep it calm and controlled so as not to burn out too quick. I felt a little breathless through the entire 300 meters but nothing that hindered my swimming. I promised myself I could breathe later on the bike.

I did have a couple of tiny issues. At the beginning I was following a line on the pool floor which led me right into a wall. No harm done, I quickly corrected my course and continued on. Later in the swim a woman going the opposite direction, doing the backstroke, wandered into my lane and crashed into me before I saw her. It was a simple mistake and no one was hurt, but I was really glad it wasn't me who had made the mistake. My husband said from his vantage point on deck that I had it pretty good in the pool. People were swimming over each other and crashing into one another. Apparently it was pretty ugly in some places.

Back Stroke Betty and me

My husband and kids were right at the pool edge and I could hear them cheering for me as I swam past even with my ear plugs in. It was fun to flash them an "I love you" sign as I swam by and I loved that they got to be so close to the action. Plus, I wanted to show my husband those swim lessons had paid off. ;)


I chugged along making my way through the three 50 meter lanes, back and forth, under the rope, back and forth, under the rope, back and forth doing a steady freestyle stroke the entire time. While I had been waiting for my turn on deck I saw several ladies WALKING through the pool more than swimming. Walking. During the pre-race meeting they had told us we could rest and even walk a little in the pool, but that seemed so wrong to me. I came to swim. Swim I shall. I don't mean to sound judgmental. It's wonderful that any of these ladies were here and making it through the course by whatever means possible, but after seeing that, my biggest goal was to not be a walker.

9 minutes, 19 seconds later I pulled myself on deck and jogged over to the transition area. When I volunteered last year it was eye-opening to watch people get out of the pool and make their way to transition. You could tell the swim had taken many by surprise and absolutely wiped them out. That's scary considering how much was left to do. I was very grateful for all that swim practice when I was able to quickly get out of the pool and move over to T1 still feeling pretty fresh. Running from the pool to the bikes was a remarkable feeling. I felt like an athlete.

Drying off and getting ready to bike

Just sitting here on my bucket

I love YOU, Elle!

And we're off!

Once I found my bike I dried off, threw on my shirt and shorts, and sat on my bucket (Thanks to Teresa for that helpful hint!) to get my socks and shoes on. I grabbed my bike and ran out the gate. T1 time was 2:52. They had to remind me to put on my helmet (Too many things to remember!) and I was off. I let myself catch up on breathing from the pool, drank some water, and settled into biking.

The course was HILLY! Lots of ups. Lots of downs. But since it was an out and back ride it was even. I'm not exactly sure how long the bike portion was. The Triathamom website says it's a 12 mile course, but the map on the same website says it's an 11 mile course. I didn't want to carry my phone with me (Note to self: Carry your phone on your bike and run. It won't be a problem.) so I don't know how long the course truly was. I was passed several times (mostly by road bikes) but I also passed some people too. The ladies on the course were super about cheering each other on. There was a great sense of comradeship throughout the entire event.

There were several walkers again on the bike course. Many would hop off their bike and walk up the hills. I was very surprised by this and maybe it's perfectly normal and maybe even a smart race tactic but again I vowed to not be a "walker".

My worst fear on the biking portion was that I would get a flat tire. I STILL don't know how to change a flat tire which is very irresponsible of me but I just haven't taken the opportunity to learn. (Lazy much?) I saw at least four ladies on the side of the road with flat tires. I felt so bad for them. I could only imagine how frustrating that would have been. I saw one of these ladies on the run later and she was in tears. I could tell it had been a particularly trying experience.

At one point a woman passed me. Right after her gears must have locked up because she started to crash, but she was clipped in to her pedals and couldn't get out so she crashed with her bike. I stopped and pulled her bike off of her and held it for her until she could stand and grab it herself. Then I took off. It felt wrong to just leave people in compromising situations, but I don't know what help I could have been. They had officials on the course helping with flat tires so no one was stranded too long. Still, every time I saw someone else struggling I said a little prayer that everything would continue to go smoothly for me which it did.

Eventually the bike portion was over with a time of 51:04. Getting off the bike was hilarious. My legs were funky. I thought I had practiced for this but I had obviously been pushing faster than normal today. I bet the guy at the gate had some good laughs today watching people get off their bikes and trying to run. I pushed my bike back to my spot, guzzled some water, ditched the helmet, and walked quickly to the running portion. I had already fueled with 2 fruit strips, 2 AFs, and 2 endurolytes halfway through the bike course. I sipped water throughout too. (Note to self: find a better way to transport these things. It was kind of dangerous trying to deal with a Ziploc baggie and masking tape while cruising on a bike.) T2 time: 0:55. I looked for my family but didn't see them. I figured I'd see them at the finish line. Later discovered they were out to breakfast. (Note to self: create good feelings with husband on race day by packing a breakfast or snacks for everyone.)

Shortly after walking out the transition gate I was able to start running. I have been having a lot of problems with plantar fasciitis in my left foot the last several months. There has been a great deal of pain and stiffness in both feet and I've cut way back on my running miles, therefore losing some fitness ground. It's been very frustrating to see my abilities diminish and feel like I don't even recognize my own body anymore. Today there was no pain, but the run was not "easy". I breathed hard through most of it. That could be thanks to a lingering cough and the heat of the day too, but I still struggle with feeling like the run shouldn't have been a problem at all. I was first and foremost a runner after all.

The first half mile or so was almost completely downhill. The hill from hell. With switchbacks and everything. It wasn't so bad going down, but since this was another out and back course...what goes down must come up. Oh the dread. After running down the hill I found myself walking way more than I had ever planned. Now I am the walker. Oh well. It is what it is. I alternated between running and walking throughout the entire course until I got back to the hill which I walked up with zero shame. It was then a short, flat (Hallelujah!) run to the finish line. My family was waiting near the finish line and my oldest two jumped in and ran to the end with me. (Loved that!) Even with all that walking I had a 33:38 5K run which is pretty good for me.

Finally the finish line! It was awesome and accomplished and glorious and beautiful with my children by my side! I had a huge smile on my face, one that had permanently been stuck on there since jumping out of the pool. And then the announcer announced my name and my "story"...

Aaaand here's Evelyn Perkins! Back in 2011 she began a weight loss journey blah blah blah LOSING 100 POUNDS!!!

*Crowd starts cheering wildly*

I had forgotten that waaaay back in 2013 when I had registered for the race that the form asked for your "story". Back in Fall 2013 my story was this: I was at my lowest weight yet, right in the midst of training for and running three consecutive full marathons, eating perfectly, and at the peak of physical fitness and self control. Shortly after that I got so fed up with having to be minutely obsessed with calories and daily two+ hour workouts to maintain my weight loss that I decided to "take a break" over Christmas. A "break" somehow turned into months of unmonitored eating and not totally absent workouts, but certainly not the hours and hours I had been doing before. 50 pounds have poured back on since then. I have been trying so hard to find the right balance between a healthy body AND a healthy mind. Lately I have taken on the mantra "My body is an instrument, not an ornament." I've tried to find happiness in being plus size again but a healthy, capable plus size. Sometimes I can do it. And then there are times like this.

It totally deflated me. The shame. The remorse. The memories of what was and what was lost. The dishonesty of the moment. Ugly tears bubbled right up to the surface. One second I had been a triathlete. The next I was a sham. A woman came up to me. "Are you the one who lost all the weight?! Amazing! Just amazing! I was crying too!" (Well lady, we're not crying for the same reason.)

That was a little gray cloud that momentarily blocked the glorious sunshine of the moment. I tried to let it roll on by and just revel in what I had just accomplished, whether I had lost 100 pounds or 50 pounds. I hugged my family, grabbed some water, a bagel and some fruit, and headed out of the finishers' area. My kids were intent on getting some cotton candy. They had been eagerly anticipating it for days. Cotton candy! Oh and Mom's doing something too. We barely made it as the woman handed out her last four cotton candy cones. Whew!

The people who make me a TriathaMOM

We headed home with me riding high from the adrenaline and excitement of the event. I felt amazing for a few hours after and then the exhaustion hit. I'm a little tired and feel slightly achy all over, but pretty good otherwise.

I've been waiting for this day like Christmas morning and too soon it's all over. It really has to be one of the most ENJOYABLE events I have ever done. I had a literal smile on my face almost the entire time. It was challenging enough to be "hard", but it was absolutely doable. I love switching up the activity instead of pounding my joints beyond tolerance with miles and miles of solely running. The transitioning makes you feel like a rock star or a ninja. Oh, you think I only swim? Well, guess what... I'm riding a bike. Now look at me. I'm...running! A-HA! 

I had predicted my finishing time to be 2:15 (9 minutes swimming, 1:15 biking, and 40 minutes running with time for transitions). I guess I underestimated myself because I finished with a 1:33:59 time!

Swim- 9:19
T1- 2:52
Bike- 51:04
T2- 0:55
Run- 33:38

I finished 175th out of 313 participants. 64th out of 107 in my age group (30-34). While I could have cared less about time I am very pleased with my performance. I gave it my all and walked away with no regrets. (Well, maybe except for that stupid announcement thing.) I completed it (probably my only true goal of the day) and had a ton of fun doing it. I LOVE TRIATHLONS! I am perfectly ready to commit to an Olympic distance. (Spudman 2015 anyone??)

One thing marked off the Bucket List. Another one added.

The Triathamom experience is awesome! I would highly suggest this event to ANYONE! Well, anyone that's a woman I suppose. YOU CAN DO THIS!! Seriously. You can be brave and take swimming lessons and watch biking YouTube videos and work your way through the Couch to 5K program. Yes, you can!!

A little side note: I'm going to sound tacky here but I'm rather disappointed in the Triathamom "finishers' medal". This is supposed to be a necklace but even the charm is so scrawny and simple it reminds me those red spreading sticks in the Kraft cheese and cracker packs. I know I had a free entry but anyone who paid for this event paid something like $75 or more. You would think there would have been money left over for better medals. (Or at least more cotton candy.) That's coming from a girl who loves her race bling. I can't believe I'm going to admit this but it's probably half the reason I participate in events. The bigger and shinier the medal, the better.

Other than that minor detail...Triathamom=AWESOME!

P.S. My superhero friend Jen came shining through for me. Last night she texted me asking for my overall mileage today. She wrote my number on her arm and ran my distance today. I love the heart she brings to running and felt her speedy spirit today. Thank you Jen!

Enjoying the Journey: Part 1

Preface: These are my expanded notes from a weight loss presentation I was asked to give at a women's meeting for my church (LDS) on Thursday, May 14, 2013.

We have been asked to share our journeys today. My journey is pretty typical. I was born and raised in Southeast Idaho, the oldest of five children. I grew up in the church. I graduated from high school, went to college, met my returned missionary husband in an Institute ward, got married, and started having babies. And here I am today.

But what makes my journey untypical is my weight. I have been pretty chubby most of my life. And I’ve also suffered from chronicdepression for most of my life. These two things definitely played off each other and created a vicious cycle that did a number on my self confidence.

A couple of times in my life I kicked the cycle and managed to lose weight in very healthy ways. Once when I was 17 and again when I was in my early twenties, right before I met my husband. Each time that happened, I would declare, “This is IT! I am NEVER going to let myself get fat again”. But eventually I would.

After we were married I began to gain weight rapidly. I can’t even blame  pregnancy and babies because I was gaining it even before I got pregnant. But then I did get pregnant. And then I was busy trying to figure out how to take care of a baby. And then I got pregnant again and taking care of two little ones that were only 18 months apart. Before I knew it I had gained almost 100 pounds from my wedding day weight.

It was humiliating. I felt so ugly and worthless. I hated going home to Southeast Idaho for visits because I would bump into people I knew from high school or church.  I didn’t even enjoy being with my family. All of my younger siblings are thin, as are their spouses, and I was so much bigger than all of them. I was just sure they thought I was ugly and stupid and embarrassing.

I didn’t like leaving my house. I had no confidence around people. I felt anxiety at meeting new people or meeting up with old friends. I often made excuses and skipped out on events. And then I would sit at home and devour a bag of chocolate candy. Because somehow that made me feel better.

And I lived my life like this for the next eight-ish years. I would always try to lose weight. Every New Years. Every birthday. Every Monday. I had my lists of goals and big plans. Maybe I’d lose a little, but something would happen to derail my efforts and I would fall right off the wagon and gain it all back, plus some.

My husband was gaining weight right along with me, but he didn’t seem to care. We enjoyed eating together, especially late at night after the kids were in bed. He seemed to still love me. Eventually I just resigned myself to being fat. Oh well. It’s too hard. I’ll just be fat. And I even worked to love myself just the way I am. Fat and all. I had friends that were overweight and I loved them. I didn't care that they were fat. But I couldn't seem to extend the same courtesy to myself. I never could learn to accept and love myself, rolls and all. Deep down, I loathed myself. I was disgusting and out of control and repulsive and not worthy of anyone’s love or attention. At least that’s how I perceived myself and projected that other people felt about me.

Because of all this, I was not truly enjoying my journey. I was only enduring.

 

In the Spring of 2011, a perfect storm happened.

We had just had our fourth baby and were thinking we were done having babies. Now, gone was the excuse “Well, I can’t lose weight now. What’s the point? I’m just going to get pregnant and fat again in a little bit.” Stupid reasoning, I know.

 

Shortly after, in April 2011, my little brother flew into the SLC airport returning from his two-year mission. I remember being in the airport feeling emotional from the pure joy of seeing my brother again but also emotional with embarrassment of how I would look to him after two years and at my heaviest weight.

Afterwards, I tried to convince myself that I was just being dramatic and it was all in my head. And then I saw the pictures someone had taken at the airport. Not only was it bad, it was way worse than I had even thought. And you can even see in the pictures how I missed out on the joy of the moment. In many of the pictures I’m hanging back while my family rushes in to hug him. I even have a pained look on my face in several of the pictures.

 

As if this wasn’t enough I got some bad health news. To make a long story short, a couple of doctors discovered I had a "fatty liver". That was the actual name of it. Well, that’s just awesome. Not only is my body fat, but so is my liver. It was humiliating. My weight was not only affecting the outside of me, but also the inside. I remember sitting in my car after the doctor's appointment and just bawling with shame. With frustration that I couldn’t get my life in control. With hopelessness that it was never going to change.

And then I drove home, stopping at a gas station to buy a couple of candy bars to scarf down before I got home. Because that made everything better.

With all of these things happening around the same time, I decided to take yet another stab at weight loss. Only this time I was going to go big and make myself accountable to someone. That someone was the whole world.

On May 9, 2011, I started a blog. I already had a family blog but this was going to be completely devoted to weight loss and health and fitness. I called it "The Jolly Green Giant", a name I had earned in my youth, and I tried to put a positive spin on it with adding the subtitle of "Getting a little more jolly, a little more green, and a little less giant". I made a list of goals and posted them in the side bar with the intention of crossing them off as I accomplished them. They started off very simply. Workout one day. Workout three days in a row. Lose 10 pounds. 20 pounds. 30 pounds. All the way up to 100 pounds. Fit in my wedding dress. Run a marathon.

And then I did something really crazy. I shared THE number with the world. 281.5 pounds. Almost 300 pounds! That’s as much as people on The Biggest Loser weigh, at the beginning of the season! A show I would watch, while eating pizza, and think, "I’m never going to get THAT big."

I started posting on the blog at least once a week with my weigh-in numbers and updates on my exercise and healthy eating progress. It was humiliating. It was terrifying. And it was exactly what I needed. Knowing that people could see my failure, I decided I COULD NOT FAIL. My blog was a place I could vent and whine. I could talk through my chocolate cravings instead of giving in. It kept my fingers and mind busy so I wasn’t running to the fridge. It kept me company when my husband was out of town. And then there were encouraging comments made by people I knew and people I didn’t. That was very motivating.

In only two weeks, even with some food mess-ups I lost over ten pounds and even started finding that exercise felt good instead of just something to be endured. Little by little, the weight started coming off. Some weeks I lost 7 pounds. Others I lost 0 pounds or even gained a pound. But each week I gained new confidence, self control, self awareness, new knowledge about health and fitness.

It wasn't all roses and rainbows. I failed SO MANY TIMES. I would have a bad day and run to the loving embrace of my refrigerator doors. The next day I would confess to the blog and try to move on.

As time went on I changed and adapted my goals. I started exercising longer and doing different workouts.

One month in to my weight loss process, on June 9^th, I was walking with my four children, two in strollers and two on bikes. We were just going to walk around the block a couple of times and call it good. My oldest fell behind and started whining because he has to be the leader. I wanted to teach him a lesson so I started jogging to stay ahead of him. We were going downhill so that helped. But even when it leveled out I kept jogging. I chanted out loud to myself, “Just to end of the block. Just to end.” And  I made it! At that very moment I changed our plans. We went left to the school instead of to the right. The kids played on playground while I “wogged” little laps around them. Wog. Walk. Wog. Walk. I was so proud of myself afterwards! That was the day I discovered running and a seed of love for running was planted.  It was a victorious day and I am so glad that I have that day recorded on my blog.

I started running more and longer distances. I began celebrating holidays with miles ran versus food eaten. A month after my first "wog", our wedding anniversary was celebrated with one mile ran without stopping instead of a box of Mrs. Sees chocolates. Running became about more than just weight loss. It was my time to be alone, to work through thoughts and feelings. It became very therapeutic and I found myself working through feelings I had been struggling with for years. One day I was running by a rose bush and the smell of it triggered a memory I had of my parents. During that run I realized I was holding on to a lot of resentment for my parents, worked through it, and felt the power and release of forgiveness. I have that day recorded as well.

I had the best running cheerleaders in my neighborhood. Every time I ran by the Tolmans, Nate would ask me “How many miles today, Evelyn?" and offer me a glass of water. The Ferrin girls would give me power fists in the air as they drove by. Michelle would express amazement at how many laps I did around the block. 

Since that first long “wog” to the end of the block, I have ran a 10k, a half marathon, and now I’m training for my first full marathon. That’s 26.2 miles of pure running! It blows my mind to think how far I’ve come from that day in June 2011.

 

Since May of 2011, I have lost 100 pounds. I brought 4 twenty-five pound bags of flour to show you what 100 pounds looks like. But I have gained so much more. I am so much more confident in myself. I like meeting new people and old friends. I’m not so obsessed with how "gross" I look that I am able to focus on others. I am so much happier! I'm a better mom. I have more energy to play with my children and I'm not always angry and short-tempered. I have learned that I can do hard things in all areas of my life. Because of the lessons I’ve learned in weight loss and fitness, I have this new found ability to tackle other hard things. This year we are working on becoming debt-free and that probably wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone through my weight loss journey.

Because of my weight loss journey, my entire journey has changed. My family’s journey has changed. Hopefully my children won’t have to deal with some of the heartaches I struggled with because they will be learning young how to be healthy, physically and mentally.

My journey is hardly over. I still have weight to lose and lessons to learn. I still struggle with looking at myself in the mirror and being repulsed with what I see. Now days, it's more about loose skin and lumps rather than chub and rolls. I had actually been asking myself what I needed to do about my journey when I was asked to speak at this meeting.

To be continued...

Speaking Up about Weight Loss

So...my little "speech" was last night.

It went...well. I think?

Afterwards I felt pretty drained emotionally and physically. It's been a long week at our house and I can't remember the last time I slept more than an hour at one time. But it wasn't just the lack of sleep. It was the fact that I shared my story...OUT LOUD.

And--duh!--I've been doing that for almost two years here on this blog, but this time I said it out loud. To a group of people. People with ears and eyes and body language that "speaks" back. Women I spend time with weekly, if not more often.

I'm feeling very raw about it. Very vulnerable. And really, I know how ridiculous this sounds after I've been so open about my weight loss journey and depression and other things here on the blog. But I still can't decide if it was a good thing.

I was nervous through the entire thing. My mouth was really dry and I could. not. stop. shaking. I was emotional. (No surprise there.) I could see some women growing emotional as I spoke. But I think it was the women who just watched me with no expression in their eyes that scared me the most. I could not "read" what they were thinking.

I can't help wondering how I came across to this audience. Did I sound ridiculous? Did I sound whiny? Was my message hopeful and inspiring? Was it too much about me? Did I dwell too much on the past and not enough on the future? Do they all think I'm crazy and broken now? Did I sound immature or judgmental or "holier than thou"?

I hope I can look people in the eye on Sunday at church.

I only had so much time to speak and I even went over the time allotment (oops!). It was a lot of message to squeeze into one little chunk of time. I tried to be honest and to convey that message of "if I can do it, ANYONE can" without going so far as to say that. I hoped to express how I've changed the course of my life journey and how I'm enjoying it now instead of enduring it.

A few women came up to me afterwards. These were ones who I had seen wiping away tears as I spoke. They expressed how my journey had been/was their journey. One woman, who I hardly know, simply hugged me and cried. I found out she had been called "Jolly Green Giant" as well. I had hoped to talk to her more, but my opportunity was lost with the chaos of the evening.

I wish I could just let the chips fall and be settled about it. What's done is done. I can't change it now. My hope is that maybe at least one person was affected last night and if that happened then it was completely worth it.

Also...I think I better stick with writing. At least I can get through that without doing the ugly cry. Or at least without people seeing me doing the ugly cry.

P.S. Go HERE to read Part 1 of my presentation.