Since you asked, here's my race report. I never did post it (got shy, I guess). But it was really incredible for me....

Back in January of this year, I found the Fat Rabbit Racing Triathlon, just 5 miles from my parents’ house in Central Ohio and decided that it would make a good first attempt at an Olympic distance race. Having friendly faces at races always helps, and my parents had been great supporters when I ran my first marathon, so it sounded like a good plan. Yet, as we packed the car for the drive from DC to Ohio, the butterflies were already churning. Had I trained enough? Could I really swim a whole mile without drowning? I looked back through my training log and regretted those days I chose not to run in the rain, or hit the snooze button rather than hitting the pool.
Packet pickup took place at the race site in Alum Creek State Park. The reservoir where we would be swimming looked bigger and darker than I’d imagined, and it didn’t help when my husband Stuart started cracking jokes about the “sucking vortex� of the dam that would pull me under if I didn’t swim quickly. The site was pretty low key, and we quickly found out why. Although three events were taking place at the same time on Sunday – the Olympic, a Sprint distance, and a duathlon, the total number of participants was less than 300, with only 75 people actually doing the Olympic distance race!
As we lined up the next morning, Stuart and I said goodbye, reminding one another to be safe and have a good race. Although the sun had technically risen, the morning was overcast, lending an extra layer of darkness to the water. When my wave gathered at the water’s edge, there were only about 20 of us. We were joking that all of us were trying to position ourselves at the back of the pack, except that there wasn’t a pack! Then the horn sounded and we were off. The 1500m swim was two laps of a triangular course out into the seemingly murky depths of the reservoir. Wearing a black wetsuit, dark blue swim cap and noticing only a handful of kayaks out on the dark water I was feeling very vulnerable.
The first leg of the triangle wasn’t too bad, but after making the first turn it felt like I’d wandered into a fresh-water ocean. The choppiness was unreal! Every time I turned my head to get air, I swallowed water. I ended up breast-stroking the back side of the triangle simply so that I could time the waves and not end up drowning. Not surprisingly, little negative thoughts crept in as I told myself “You’re going to finish last. You’re going to be embarrassed. You can’t possibly do this. What were you thinking, you’re a poser not a real triathlete.� Unfortunately, this litany has been as much a part of my triathlon experience in the past as Bodyglide or my pre-race pb&j sandwich. But this time was different.
The week before the race I compiled a four page list of inspirational quotes from Vince Lombardi to Teddy Roosevelt to Steve Prefontaine, which I read and re-read hoping they would settle deep into my psyche. Additionally, the night before the race I fell asleep reading Mark Allen’s article on race day focus in Triathlete magazine. So, as I neared the halfway point on the swim and my mind began saying “you know Tamara, you can just quit right now. You’re not good enough or strong enough to do this second loop, much less bike and run afterwards�, I fought back. I fought back against myself, reminding myself that nothing worthwhile is ever gained easily. That if this wasn’t tough, than everyone would do it. And besides, this first swim loop wasn’t that bad, right? With that, I splashed into the second swim loop, struggled through the back side of it, and finally found myself approaching T1. I could see my Dad on the shore searching for me, but I couldn’t quite make myself smile as I exited the water. I found out afterwards that the reason I didn’t see my mom was that she had ended up in tears, frightened by the sight of so many swimmers way out in the water without much in the way of emergency support. And it wasn’t my imagination, everyone was talking about how rough the water was – one guy said it was worse than the year he did Escape from Alcatraz!
T1 went fairly smoothly, and by that point both my mom and dad were right there cheering for me. I took a bunch of deep breaths, reminding myself not to waste energy by panicking through transition just to save a few seconds. We’d driven the bike course the day before so there weren’t too many surprises. Since it was such a small race, I spent the majority of the time without anyone else in sight. Trying to be vigilant of my nutrition, since I knew this was going to be a long day (one of my pre-race goals was to break 4hrs), I kept up a steady stream of Clif Shot Blox, Gatorade Endurance and even took a few salt tablets (a new addition to my race plan, thanks to the advice of friend and fellow Trifueler Julie). As I approached the farthest point on this 40K loop, my chain slipped. Cursing to myself, I hopped off my bike and with a sense of wonder realized “hey, I know how to fix this. This race isn’t over.� Thank goodness for that bike maintenance course I took earlier this summer! In only about a minute I was back on my way.
At the 24mile point I found myself facing a long, evil incline that would take me almost to within ¼ mile of T2. Ahead of me was a woman on a tri-bike who had passed me a few miles earlier, and she definitely seemed to be struggling with the grade. Determined to stay in my positive mental place, I consciously decided that not only would I focus solely on the task of spinning my way to the top, but I wouldn’t fixate on passing her or on the readings on my Cateye as my mph dropped. I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by hammering through the hardest section of the course just before setting out on a 10K run.
As I rolled into T2, I immediately saw my parents, so I asked how Stuart was doing. From the sounds of it, they were expecting him to finish any minute! I’d guessed that he would beat me by about an hour, and if their predictions were correct, than I was right. I quickly racked my bike, swapped shoes and grabbed my hat before exiting T2. Three minutes down the beach I realized I was still wearing my cycling gloves, so feeling a bit silly I quickly shoved them into the back pocket of my race jersey. I also realized I wasn’t feeling well, and had possibly taken in too much nutrition on the bike (and water during the swim!). I knew the run wasn’t going to be fun, and again those little gremlins of doubt and despair began to creep in, and again I forced them away. The run course was two 5K loops through the park and it seemed that all I saw were people’s backs as they passed me.
As I completed my first lap and made the turn to begin the second I saw one of the volunteers picking up the pylons and taking down the sign pointing the way and yelled out to him to wait. Unfortunately, I immediately burst into tears and let him know in no uncertain terms how much I didn’t need it highlighted to me that I was in last place. As I struggled by him, the guy humbly apologized telling me that he’d been told “everyone was out on the course�. Out in the short off-road piece of the run, I slowed to a walk and actually contemplated quitting. After all, the finish line was only 1/4mile behind me, the race management clearly was horrible, and I’d spare myself the shame of coming in last. And for about thirty seconds, those seemed like good enough reasons for calling it a day. But for the umpteenth time that day, I took a breath. “Dammit Tamara, you’re not 1/4mile from the finish line, you’re 3miles from the finish line…more than halfway there. If you DNF because of some stupid volunteer, it won’t make a bit of difference to the race management, but it will matter to you. Who cares if you are last. Oh, and in case you haven’t done the math, you’ve actually been moving pretty well today and are on track for a strong finish time so keep moving!� With that, my pace picked up and I started hustling. And wouldn’t you know it, with the next mile I passed one guy and saw three women who were still behind me. I wasn’t last after all! And with that, I then really kicked it in and came cruising into the finish area. Stuart was waiting to meet me and ran alongside the course the last .2miles cheering me on, and then joined my parents to congratulate me as I crossed the finish line. 3:27:54. Although I was definitely very far into the back of the pack, I’d accomplished four things today that I wasn’t sure were possible:
1. I’d finished.
2. I didn’t come in last.
3. I smashed my goal time of 4:00 by over thirty minutes.
4. I conquered the mental game! I haven’t yet avoided getting negative thoughts altogether, but I am learning how to push them aside and not let them destroy the race for me.
So it was a good day, everyone was happy and tired, and we were packing up to leave. While we collected our stuff, my dad took a look at the prelim results and said “Hey Stuart, they’ve got you in the 30-34AG.� Turns out, that not only was he in the wrong AG, but he actually placed 2nd in his actual 50-54AG!!!!
All in all, it was a great day.

I enjoyed reading ((good job))!!

What were you thinking, you’re a poser not a real triathlete.�
TOO FUNNY :-)