How would you like me to wrap this?

Here's my number. So call me maybe?

What can I say about Barb's Race this weekend? I could do something heartfelt and gushy. I could tell you chronologically what happened (snooze). Or try to come up with a witty comparison to something else: current events, politics, fashion - like I claim to be an expert at any of those. Maybe report on some fun people-watching? Or a list of Do's and Don'ts?

Here are the highlights, packaged in bite-sized pieces:

The Swim Course

Quote of the event: "The Russian River swim course is between 3 and 7 feet deep. So if you get into trouble during the swim, just stand up!" People really did stand up and walk some of the swim course. I kept my head down and kept swimming. I'm not even sure if walking would have helped my time at all. I struggled a bit with my stroke in the 3-foot deep water, especially with so many people around me, but I also thought it was good training for the Pacific Grove crawl through ocean kelp in September.



The Russian River at Johnson's Beach. After Lake Tahoe the water seemed like a spa retreat.

The Bike Course

The bike course is lovely. It goes by all of my favorite Russian River Valley wineries like Rochioli. Yum. I really turned up the heat on the bike course. My intention was to save a lot for the run, but I felt strong that I kept pushing myself in the lowest gear possible to get the most speed. By the last 15 miles, I'd kind of found a cohort of other women with whom I played cat and mouse, and we all started the run within minutes of each other. It made for some friendly competition, and some nice banter during the ride. I finished the bike course in about 20 minutes less than I thought I would.

The Run Course

The course was once out and back (about 8 miles) then out about half way and back (5 miles) to complete the run. The second time out I just had nothing left in me except the will to finish. I thought I was probably running 20 minute miles. Talk about my worst half marathon ever! Remember back in January when I tried to run a half marathon in over 2 hours, got bored, and ended up running it in 1:58? Yeah, well this event time was 2 hours and 13 minutes of just not being able to move any faster. When I saw my time, I was actually amazed at 2:13. I thought it was going to be more like 2:45. It was the longest 2+ hours of my life.

Motivational Tactics

First, it helps to have awesome friends who send you lots of encouraging text messages before, during, and after the race. (Love my friends - thank you guys!) Second, it's important to remember that you are really only competing with yourself. To a certain point (like during my run) you just can't do anymore. You can either deal with it and finish, or you can get a cramp and cry on the side of the road. Finally, remember if you do push yourself a bit you get to share the course with some eye candy. The Ironman competitors were on the run course at the same time, so I got to see probably the first ten finishers. All hotties. Just sayin'.

Wine and chocolates from my Sass-mates! Delivered to my room. Thanks, ladies!

Fashion

Function over fashion always. In my first transition I realized that I was carrying all of my food on myself or on my bike. I had gel packets in a belt, Clif Bars in my back pockets, and the only water I planned to drink was already on the bike. I think this might have saved me some time because I didn't stop at any of the aid stations, or maybe it weighed me down. There were a few younger girls who did the entire event in starts-and-stripes bikinis. I know Olympic triathletes wear basically swim gear too, but these were not Olympic athletes. More power to you 21-year-old girls! (Maybe I'm just jealous.) In conclusion to my fashion observations, I saw a lot of those crazy-looking aerodynamic helmets that make people look like Rocket Man. I'm sorry, but if you are going to wear one of those, it should be the last straw to cut time. i.e. my amateur self should not be passing you on the bike.



Getting my gear ready.

Nutrition on the Course

Force feeding yourself really sucks, but it has to be done. I brought three Clif Bars and could only finish one. I also had 3 gel packs. I really tried to eat something every hour, but I've never been so NOT hungry in my life. Can't. Eat. Another. Bite. I used to really like Cliff Bars. Ugh.

Irate Locals

The guy who barrelled up Chalk Hill Road in a partial semi-truck as we were making our final climb - thanks for being a jackass. Some people in that area just don't like a bunch of yuppies doing triathlons. Most drivers were pretty cool though.

Snot rockets!

There were a lot of snot rockets on the course, and by the females! I'm still wiping my nose on my gloves. Need to work on this for next time. :)

Day 1: The River

I was determined to swim the entire course. I knew there was a river house with a large green-painted embankment that served as the turn-around point. It was only out (to the wall) and back. 1.2 miles. There were a few other swimmers back on the course.

I was still nervous.

A Barb's Race alumna told me recently that parts of the swim are very shallow and you can stand up in the water. As I made my way out to to the first bridge (nice and easy), I realized what she meant. I'm glad I practiced really stroking down the center line of my body because otherwise my arms would have hit the rock on the bottom of the river. During the race orientation, "If you are having trouble during the swim - STAND UP!" Yep, the swim was only 3-7 feet deep.

So I took my time and stopped a few times, looked around, and made some focal points on the course. When I reached the green wall I thought, "That's it?" For some reason I was expecting something much worse - longer, or more current, or just panic. Nothing.

I swam back with a bit of current pushing me towards the beach. I did it. It was pretty easy.

Sigh of relief.

Day 2: Closer to God

God, I love running. Thank you for giving me legs.

Sincerely,

Suzanne

P.S. I just ran about 6 miles and I feel heavenly.

Day 3: I'm over it

I just rode my bike around the block. Three times. Wow, what an accomplishment. ;)

Day 4: Final Pool Day

I heard some awful news yesterday - one of the participants of the Vineman 70.3, who was an experienced triathlete, died after being pulled from the Russian River swim. This is upsetting because she is an athlete, like me, prepared to compete, like me, and unfortunately something happened in the water. It probably wasn't the event itself. A few years ago during the San Jose Rock and Roll half marathon two runners died near the finish line. All of my non-runner friends were convinced that running is a killer sport, but I truly believe that it was not the running that caused it, it just happened during a race.

As my friend Christine reminded me last night, "They could have died doing nothing. They just happened to die during a triathlon." That is a comforting thought to an extent. Like, I'm not going to stop flying on airplanes or driving because it is dangerous. I'm not going to stop pushing my limits because it's the safe thing to do. That would be a boring life.

Unfortunately she is not the only victim of the Russian River this summer. The other deaths in the RR this summer were all non-swimmers. This is when I really start to mind-f#$k myself into thinking that I'm not a real swimmer either.

There are all kinds of articles out there about the dangers of open water swimming, and swim and triathlon organizations have even considered making all participants take a swim test, or have an open water certification, before they are able to compete in events. I've talked to a lot of people, even very experienced swimmers, who have had panic attacks in the water.

So, I had to swim last night to prove to myself that I am, in fact, a swimmer. I'm not the greatest swimmer, or the fastest swimmer, but even when I had terrible form and felt off in the water for a few minutes - I was still moving on top of the water. Even if I have to wade, or kick on my back for awhile. I'm still swimming.

Plus, most of the Russian River is only four to eight feet deep. I will be swimming in a puddle most of the time.

Parents, please teach your kids how to swim, or at least how to be comfortable in the water. Throw them into a pool and make them swim across. Take them out on boats, teach them to water ski, let them get knocked down by a few waves. Seriously. This is my biggest problem as a 32 year old? That just isn't right.

I'm going to wear a wetsuit on race day. Need that extra assurance.

Day 9, 8, 7, 6, 5: The Taper Continues

Thursday: Day off and travel time. I also needed some time to take my bike in for it's final overhaul before next weekend. It needed a couple of derailleur cables too. I wish my car was as inexpensive to fix as my bike.

Friday: Getting settled in to our rental house in Kings Beach, Lake Tahoe with Team SassMouth. I went for a run down North Lake Boulevard from Kings Beach to Carnelian Bay and back. It was 8 miles. When the rest of my Trans Tahoe teammates showed up, we did a practice swim at Kings Beach, so I got some stroke time in as well.

Saturday: Trans Tahoe Relay. I swam the 30 minute leg, the 15 minute leg, and two 10 minute legs. The most difficult was the first because I had the typical (Susan) panic attack, followed by a pretty good swim, then a side cramp during the last 5 minutes. The second leg was awesome, third was pretty good, and last was awesome despite some wake action caused by speed boats zipping past. I didn't want to know about dangerous boats going by, so I just kept my head down and sighted the boat on my right side. I knew my team wouldn't let me get run over.

Sunday: Day off and travel home day.

Monday: Mandatory day off.

This is the part of training called tapering. Last week I did a little less than usual, and this week I'm only doing three easy workouts before race day next Saturday. For the last week my head has been messing with me, "Am I doing enough? Did I do enough? I feel the need to run a whole bunch right now, but I'm not supposed to, right?" Suddenly there is this dread that I didn't train enough, or I started to taper too early. But, it's too late - Coulda. Woulda. Shoulda. I'm done training.

Wow.

My head is totally in the clouds. This weekend is all I can think about and I can't focus on much else. I'm looking forward to getting to the race site (especially the swim site) on Friday and trying it out.

Happenstance (aka Happen-sass)

Team SassMouth, pre-race. We were the only team with matching t-shirts and headbands that said, "Kiss My Sass!"

Had we finished the relay sooner, we would not have had this photo opp. Taken from our Sasskipper from the boat.

There once were six girls in Santa Clara, California with a dream: to be Sassy. It took training, a boat, and some sparkles. In their real lives they were educators, students, organizers, world travelers, grant writers and even certified composting experts (!!). In their other real lives they were swimmers, cyclists, runners, sailors, yogis, coaches . . . They represented six little girls growing up in the Midwest, Buffalo, southern California, and Hawaii who would eventually find each other on a boat in Lake Tahoe doing a swim relay together.

Six different women, six different lives, six different swim-styles. How did we all end up in this same place together to share this same experience?

First, I met Lin-sass, who was my main motivation to do triathlon. She is extremely organized and can make you a chart of all of your split times.

Then, I met Lis-sass who inspired me to swim. I'll never forget seeing her face the first time I completed 1,200 yards without stopping. Lis-sass also has an arts background! How's that for happen-sass??

I met Sass-ica during my first ocean swim at Pacific Grove. She consistently has no fear which amazes me.

I met K-sass on Facebook (of all places!). She sassed me, and I sassed back, and I knew I  liked her before I even met her in person.

Finally, I met Sass-stine who is continuously pushing her limits; this weekend she's swimming from Alcatraz!

It was one of those weekends that will always bind us; a weekend that no one else can understand unless they were there. . . there in that cold water, smeared in SPF, sporting a cap, goggles and a red suit. We cheered one another during our six-hour journey across 11 miles from Nevada to California. Happy to be sassy. It was just happen-sass.

K-sass (left), Sass-ica (right), Me (back)



This is when our boat found Lis-sass. She had to swim out to find us from the shore as the first swimmer.



Me, not sure if I want to get in.

I got in.

Hand off to Sass-stine!