Lost 100: My First Triathlon, part 1

Well, by now you may have heard that I did a triathlon this past weekend in celebration of my 35th birthday!

Well, here's the stuff you didn't know:

Doing a triathlon is hard. Harder than I expected.
I am not a good swimmer. Um, swimming laps in the warm pool at the Y & the gym does not translate to swimming in the open water in the OCEAN and swallowing salt water, and getting kicked, and having a super hot guy in a kayak have to stay next to you the entire time because he was afraid you would drown, and then not being able to do freestyle because everytime you do water goes up your nose & down your throat, so instead you swim breast stroke and end up 50+ yards behind pretty much everyone. Yes, and did I mention it was so foggy you couldn't see the next buoy, let alone all 5 buoys. Finally, oceans have sharks...did you know I hate sharks? Well, I do.
I have a mountain bike, not a road bike. Okay. What does that mean? Apparently road bikes travel 33% faster than mountain bikes when applying the same exertion. Crap. So when I got out of the water and was the second to last person to get on the bike I then further got behind because I was going at least 33% faster than my potential potential (or something like that).
Biking in a triathlon is not anything like spinning, even if the spinning instructor thinks it is.
When you finish biking your legs feel like jello. No, this is not some cutesy catchphrase, the legs wobble and trying to run your bike in is not an easy feat.
It doesn't get any better once you drop your bike off. You don't suddenly feel lighter, or grow wings, or hear Kanye West sing you 'Stronger'. No, you feel like your legs want to collapse and eat bon-bons. No, it doesn't help to tell your legs that they don't have a mouth and they can't eat bon-bons even if they wanted to.
Feigning a hamstring injury does not help. No one buys your bullshit.
When you want to quit an angel suddenly appears in front of you, telling you how she had to walk/run in intervals just to make it to the water stop (aka-the turn around point)...then she caught her breath and feels better--she assures you that you can do this.
Some dude with long hair shows up on a bike and tells you that your husband and kids are worried about you and he's checking to make sure you're okay. You are, you assure him. Then you plead with him to NOT announce you when you come in last--he promises. He lies.
After the water stop you jog, mostly because you don't want everyone to think you are a loser. A little 8-year-old girl who is working the water stop is running behind you, you hear her slow down and you suspect it's because she senses that you will dissolve into tears if she passes you.
When you turn the corner on the way back you see him. No, not the hot guy from the kayak (no, you pretty much never want to see him again). No, it's your darling husband running with your 2 little girls in the double jogging stroller. He's here to see you through. To help you finish. Now you really do dissolve to tears.
When you are 10 feet from the finish line your 3-year-old daughter jumps out of the stroller and finishes the race with you (you are somewhat bothered by the fact that she is still in her pajamas and is not wearing any shoes, but remember that your husband is pretty much a candidate for 'husband of the year' after the stroller incident, so you let it slide).
They announce you as the 'last one'--everyone claps, you smile, you are mortified inside.
But no one can take it away...you FINISHED a triathlon!
Later you commiserate with friends...'I'm the real loser-I was on the couch with a hangover' says one, others point out your incredible weight loss & how far you had to come just to get to this point...it's still hard to know you were last. To not get any clams at the clam bake because they were all gone. But I do have the picture of me after the race...and I have my memories...and I have information--what it's like, what I need to train on...and I have A LOT of room for improvement!