danskin part IV: in a rush to the finish line
the 2nd transition was fairly quick w/ me stopping only to rack my bike & camel pack, re-apply sunblock, and gulp more liquid. i had to pee (again), but was determined to proceed w/ the last leg, and maintain a steel bladder all the way to the finish line. many athletes who were long-finished were now milling around in groups in the transition zone, oblivious to the fact that mixed-age participants were still on the course. on my way to the run start, i had to wade through crowds and blurt out "EXCUSE ME! I'M STILL RACING!.
my "sensible" strategy for the run loop was to do a brisk, combined "run-walk" to save my joints. it was humbling to have to slow down. but over the years, most of my pain has been in my lower quadrants: hips, knees, ankles, calves, and achilles heels. and i recently pinpointed a new awareness: having the majority of pain in my lower body is precisely what is so disabling. in addition to obvious physical discomfort, it's mentally exhausting to feel like the parts of your body that support your frame and propel you everywhere are defective. BUT, it's my nature to work through it and keep going. danskin was no exception.
surprisingly, my "brick" legs weren't TOO bad. i thought about walking the 1st half mile, but decided to start running instead for momentum. i feared that if i walked from the beginning, i'd never gain the motivation to run later. furthermore, a funny & cute male volunteer was standing there encouraging each runner/walker. he was basically an animated cheerleader who exclaimed, "WOW, all these women are running towards ME!" it might have annoyed me if i'd been irritable & snarky, but just then, i needed a silly, cheesy reason to laugh.
then, everything hit me at once: the adrenaline of being near the end, the emotions of such an amazing event, and the altitude. as i started the run, tears poured out of my eyes and streamed down my face. i'm not sure where they were coming from, but tough races have a way of bringing out my raw feelings. i know my tears represented a kaleidoscope of emotions: pure elation & triumph at accomplishing my triathlon goal, victory in the face of adversity, sadness that my parents weren't in colorado to share that special moment in person with me and my sister, and bittersweet tears as i thought about how many doors had been unfairly shut in my face by my health.
the elevation also affected me a little--the air was thin, and i was breathing much harder than i would have on a comparable run at home. so i walked. soon, my sister came around the bend on the return loop, cheering me on, saying we'd meet at the finish line. what kept me going was the brilliant setup of the run course: the finish-line was visible throughout, and i could hear names and hometowns of each finisher called out over the loudspeakers. so i knew my finisher's medal was within grasp. 45 minutes after starting a brisk run-walk, i sprinted across the finish line, threw my hands in the air in a "Yes, I did it! gesture, and received my medal, Propel fitness water, and plenty of hugs and snapshots. by this time, i was all smiles.
a little while later, one of my sister's friend's husbands (a dedicated spectator) handed me an ice cold one. he was parked out on a lawn chair, armed with a cooler, ready to tailgate)! i took a few swigs, but my dehydrated body demanded Gatorade over PBR. ha! but never fear--after collecting our belongings and leaving Arapahoe Park/Aurora Reservoir, a different hydration system began at Benny's. if you're looking for the best mexican food in denver, and tasty margaritas to go with, this is it!
