The bike mount was at the base of a pretty sizable hill. I had set my gears to make it as easy as possible, but I’m still not great at clipping in and getting going, so I was prepared that I might have to walk my bike up the hill. I decided to give it a shot anyway. I looked over and saw my mom cheering me on.
Relief swept over me when I saw that she made it. I smiled and yelled something about how hard the swim was. Just seeing her lifted my spirits even more. I got going, clipped in quicker than usual and plowed my way up that hill. I made it! At the top, some guy yelled, “Pepper that hill, Girl!” I didn’t have a clue what he meant, I didn’t know if he was encouraging me or criticizing me. I didn’t really care at the moment and I kept going. About a mile in, I pulled the banana from my pocket and ate it. I tossed the peel to a group of folks who said they’d take garbage. Ok, on to the next part. A couple miles down, a whole lot more to go. The roads were somewhat rough. Every few feet there was a crack in the road, but it was like going through a ditch each time. Gu-gunk. 3 seconds later…ga-gunk. 3 seconds later…again. Ugh. I had to pee. And the bumps were making it worse. I pulled over at Mile 15 for a pit stop. It’s a long race, better to be comfortable, right? While I was off the bike, I grabbed a GU Roctane and washed it down with some water. As I remounted the bike, I heard someone yell, “Let’s Go FLEET FEET”. As he passed I saw he had one green and one orange Zensah sleeve, he was also wearing FLEET FEET gear. I started back up and made my way through the country roads of Racine. Every direction we turned seemed to present a stronger head wind. How is that even possible? It reminded me of riding in New Town. I passed people. I got passed by a lot more people, especially super fast dudes on Tri bikes. I saw lots of debris on the road, disgarded water bottles, someone’s old tube, splattered gels, CO2 cartridges. I saw a girl’s tire blow right in front of me and it scared me half to death because it sounded like a gunshot. I worried that I would do something wrong and get a penalty, but I kept pushing. I passed a guy as I powered up a hill. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I passed him, so I turned and smiled. That’s right, buddy, you just got chicked. I saw people fixing flats, adjusting chains, doing whatever they could to get their bikes to the end. At Mile 35-ish, I took another GU. When I reached mile 46, I thought of my 46 mile ride through Wildwood with “Grey” a few weeks ago. This ride was certainly less hilly. At Mile 47, I realized I had already accomplished my longest ride ever. And I was about to bust through that with 9 more miles. No problem!
Somewhere between 45 and 50, I found Kristin. I yelled, “Hey, there’s my girl!” A few miles later, I came up on Serena. I yelled her name, she smiled and said Hey, and we kept cruising along.
By mile 50, I couldn’t believe I was almost done with the bike and I’d had no issues. My prayers for no flat tires had been answered. Worst case scenario, I could run my bike to the transition at this point. I came up to an aid station knowing my fluids were low, and knowing I probably hadn’t hydrated enough on the bike. I prepared to grab one of the bottles being held out for me. As I motioned that I was going to take one, I apologized in advance to the woman holding it out and said, “Sorry, I’m still terrible at this!” But I grabbed it, didn’t crash, chugged some of the water and tossed the bottle toward the pile of “Last Chance Garbage”. Success!
I was back on the neighborhood streets of Racine, getting close now. The bike course doubled back on the run course. There were already lots of runners out on the course, it got tricky passing cyclists without riding into the running lanes. Time to start prepping mentally for the run. It’s gonna be hard, it’s gonna hurt, I’m not gonna be able to run like I normally do. Just take it nice and slow and whatever you do… KEEP GOING!
I made the final turn and headed down the hill into T2. The volunteers along the side motioned to slow down. I did. I unclipped. I got to the bottom and dismounted, just as a guy fell over. The girl in front of me got around him and we all narrowly avoided a crash. I could hear someone behind me yelling my name, but I didn’t turn around to look, I just threw my hand in the air and waved. My feet were killing as I tried to run into transition, unhooking my helmet as I went. I looked over to my right and saw Chad, so I yelled his name and waved as he looked up. He smiled, waved back and I think he hollered, “Hey Lindsey!”
Chad’s daughter Jazmine must have taken this pic right about the same time I waved to Chad in T2.
I put my bike back on the rack and began removing my cycling shoes. I commented to the girl next to me that I’d never been so happy to put on my running shoes. She agreed. I ditched my gloves and exchanged the helmet for a visor. I grabbed my water bottle off my bike and took a last swig of G2. I readjusted my sunglasses and I headed out of transition for the run. I remember thinking…just a half marathon, I’ve done this distance hundreds of times, no problem. I also remember considering how difficult it would be to run a full marathon after doing twice what I had already completed. Well, no time to think about that today, focus on what’s ahead.
I thought of Farrell and her text to me the night before. She wrote: You’ll do awesome!! Just remember its all mental and you are one of the strongest people I know.
She’s right, I am strong. I can do this. 57.2 miles down, 13.1 more to go…