Posts Tagged ‘Friends’
I’ve always done things at my own pace – but I always get where I want to be in the end.
In 2010 -
- I moved in with my Mister
- I got a promotion – I couldn’t have imagined that I would be in such a fantastic position at 25
- I became an Aunt – I never comprehended just how much love I would have for my niece
- I finished a triathlon
- I watched my beloved Roosters lose the NRL Grand Final
- I paid more than a few visits to hospital to see people I love
- I received heart-wrenching news more times than I’d have liked, but I survived
- I had some truly wonderful friends, and a family that loves me
I’m looking forward to 2011. I know it will bring me even closer to where I want to be.
For more information on how you can get involved, visit R U OK? Day.
Who will you ask?
The Triathlon – or, why you don’t say things you don’t mean. They get you into trouble. Or triathlons.
At the beginning of August, I made an off-the-cuff remark to a co-worker after seeing a flyer for an ‘All Girls Triathlon’.
“We should enter!” I quipped.
“Totally,” she replied, “Do you want to train together?”
Later that day my co-worker returned from a meeting, informing me that she’d conferred with our fellow worker, and we really were going to sign up for the Triathlon. I wanted to be sick. Instead I giggled nervously.
And so the training began for the Tri, three weeks out. I did an RPM class. We swam a few laps at the local pool in our lunchbreaks. I ran less than when I hadn’t been training for a Triathlon.
I bought a bicycle.
We did a practice swim in The Lake the day before the event. That is, we dipped our toes in the murky water, squealed when fish appeared, and doggy-paddled out about 200m and back before calling it a day and gossiping on the shore.
Tri-Day arrived. At 5.00 am on the Sunday, I ignored my alarm and went back to sleep. Nick promptly kicked me out of bed.
We arrived at The Lake, which was buzzing with energy. A man wrote my race number on the outside of my biceps arms. I felt like an athlete! We “racked” our bikes, and laid out our gear. A man gave us a bit of a “pep talk” and blathered on about “keeping left” and not “drafting” and “overtaking to your right”. By this time we had stripped down to our togs, and I was feeling too self-conscious to pay much attention.
“To the starting line!” he called.
I wanted to throw up.
We were split into three groups (by surname) for a staggered start, and thankfully I was in the last group. We were instructed to swim out along the start line – I swam as far away from everybody as I could, in the hope I would avoid being kicked in the head. “Phew,” I reflected, “I’m exhausted now.”
A man counted down, and yelled at us to go. “Oh right,” I thought, “Go, go, go!”
I smashed out the swim leg, before realising I was only half-way there. Put my head down and continued swimming. Got kicked in the side by an over-enthusiastic (and off-course) swimmer. Swallowed salt water. Felt ill swimming through bizarre “hot pockets” in the water (ew). Felt relieved when I hit a “cool spot”. Realised I could now stand up. Stumbled out of the water. Was breathing more heavily than I’d anticipated. Ran to the ‘Transition Zone’ to put on runners and grab my bike.
The humidity was awful and I felt like I was breathing in water (admittedly, a few minutes prior I probably had been). Inhaled Ventolin. Tripped into shoes. Grabbed my shiny new bike (that I’m in love with) and took off.
For most of the ride I cursed that I hadn’t put the water bottle holder on my bike – I was so incredibly thirsty from all the salt water that I’d swallowed during the swim, and I was having trouble breathing because of my asthma (and aforementioned humidity). Vaguely remember thinking towards the end of the ride that I was spent and that I couldn’t go on. By the end of the ride the burning in my legs completely outweighed the burning in my lungs and all was okay.
Leapt off my bike in the ‘Transition Zone’ without falling off or falling over. Legs felt like jelly. Got through this transition quite quickly (after a few more gulps of Ventolin), despite not being able to feel my legs.
The run was hard. I couldn’t feel my legs, and I felt like I was going to vomit my lungs. There was a very minor incline that one could barely see, but really feel. I was still thirsty from the salt water swim, and couldn’t wait to make it to the drink station. At the half-way mark of the run, you overlooked a cliff. By this stage, I wanted to throw myself over said cliff and put an end to the pain.
The run back was “downhill”. Slightly. It made such a difference. Suddenly I felt faster. I was able to talk “over” the negative thoughts that were going through my head. I was on the Home Straight.
I cannot really explain the feeling of seeing the Finish, and then crossing The Line. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to go out dancing. I wanted to shout from the cliff-tops that I HAD FINISHED A TRIATHLON. Even if it was only a Beginners Tri. But most of all, I just wanted my ”Finishing Medal”. And a shower.