Me, as a tiny angel. Things have changed.
Growing up, in a very loud, exuberant family, I was a shy child. I took to hiding behind my parents at my birthday parties and I was the furthest thing from outgoing. But my mother's side of the family was a different story. Get them all together and you could hardly hear yourself think. They loved to talk, over each other at times, and they loved to compete with each other. Get my dad in to the mix and you've set yourself up for a good time. I don't know who started it, but eventually they took to doing triathlon relays. It was all in good fun, and they didn't do it for time, but soon they were doing triathlons on their own. My mom is a twin, so she ALWAYS had competition in her age division! It was a family affair.
We would go to Big Bear, to stay in our cabin, and it usually meant there would be a morning where we would be dragged out of our warm beds at a totally unreasonable hour to go to a triathlon. And us kids would hang out and observe all this nonsense and play with our cousins, as our parents did this thing called "triathlon." It never occurred to me that I would ever want to do one growing up. But I always admired what my parents did, juggling kids, while somehow making time to train for three sports.
I spent over twenty years as an equestrian. That was where I always felt I belonged. I had so many great times with my horses. I was given the opportunity to raise a colt, and then an opportunity to own a wonderful dressage horse. And when Baile, my dressage horse passed away, my life as an equestrian was never the same. I tried to replicate that relationship, but it's like having the perfect dance partner leave you. You can dance with someone else, but you are never dancing like you know you could. So I left the horse world, sadly.
I started taking cycle classes and then I became an instructor. I LOVED to teach, and I loved to spin. One day, my friend Kevin Moore called me up to chat. He said he had registered for San Diego International triathlon. The sprint. But since he hadn't trained at all, he wasn't prepared to do it. But for whatever reason, he thought that I could. In three weeks. I laughed and told him that was pretty funny. Because it was. It was hilarious. Then he said something that, if you know me, you know it gets me every time. He said, "I paid all this money and now it's going to go to waste if you don't do it." I HATE waste. Especially when it comes to money. AND it was his birthday and that's the only thing I could do for him. So I was totally suckered in to it. Thanks, Kevin.
With three weeks to train, I dove in. Literally, in to the pool to figure out how to swim for 500 meters. I also had to figure out how to ride a bike that actually moved forward when you rode it! I had a Centurion Dave Scott with downtube shifters. I couldn't figure out how to not fall off when I reached down to shift, so I learned to ride on one of the hardest gears. I must say, it was tough, but to this day I never shift off the big ring, and I became a great cyclist!
When I dropped my stuff off the day before the event, I remember thinking this was possibly the worst idea ever. I did get a very nice compliment on my "vintage" bike, but I had to rack it next to these bikes that were so nice and so light that they were literally swaying in the wind. When I showed up on race morning it was even more of a shock. People had these things called "kits." I had a tank top and some shorts. People had these funny looking shoes that clipped on to their pedals. I had tennis shoes. And as everyone shimmied in to their skin-tight wetsuits, I put on my dads wetsuit that he had worn in the 80s. I was so obviously out of my element.
But when that gun went off, something in my was more determined than I had ever known. I didn't know who this person was, but whoever she was, she was going to get to that finish line. I busted my ass that day, in that sprint. I was so scared I would be dead last that I just gunned it the whole way. And when I finished, I was prouder than I think I had ever been. I was overcome with joy and a sense of accomplishment. Jeff looked at the race results to see my time. I was still basking in my glory of just finishing this thing, when he told me I had won my age division. I couldn't believe it. My parents had left when I finished. I had to call to tell them I won, and they came back for the award ceremony. I sat there at that award ceremony about to cry. I was so happy for my win, but I was pretty sure it was a fluke and they would take it away. They didn't. I still have my medal. And I deserved it.
San Diego International. First tri, first place.
The rest is history. I've now been competing for about four years. My triathlon journey has taken many different paths, and I've enjoyed each one. Ironman was the most recent challenge and boy, was it ever! I've learned that no matter how long you are in this sport, there is always more to learn, grow, improve. If you go long and steady one season, you can go short and fast the next. If you are an awesome swimmer, you can improve your run or bike. There's always something to do! It's always fun, and it's ALWAYS a challenge.
Davina's first triathlon. She was now the one wearing my dad's wetsuit from the 80s!
So, that's how I got in to triathlon. From a shy child, who hid behind her parent's legs, to the girl teaching cycle and encouraging others to give triathlon a shot. And every race, just like when I was a child, my family is now there for me. My husband has never missed a race. My mom is there with my dog at almost every race. My sister has now ventured in to triathlons and my dad even did one a few years ago with me. It's a true statement that "what goes around, comes around." And, Kevin Moore, thank you for guilting me in to my first triathlon. ;) You knew something that I didn't and you saw something in me that I had to learn to see in myself. Only a true friend could pull off something like that!
You sucker me into a triathlon, I guilt you into a Spongebob hat! Payback, Kevy.
I've come a long way. 140.6 miles, if anyone's counting!
