Ironman Texas. 70.3 style.

I just pushed the button on THE race. The one I've been talking about for weeks months. I finally put my money where my mouth is. As I was discussing with my husband whether it was time to drop the $291 to register, he said to me, "Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right. If you think you can, push the button." I can. I will. I pushed the button. Today is the day. Tomorrow begins the real training. Day 1 of 145. I've been training hard, but my vigor is renewed. Watch out, Galveston. I'm coming.

The bike hunt

The bike hunt is over. After days and days and days of spreadsheets, pros and cons columns, test riding, researching, and number crunching, I have a new steed to call my own.

Before I get all crazy with the details, let me just say that Randi Rea of Katy, Texas is a tri angel for allowing me to borrow her Scott road bike over the last 6 months. As previously noted, I completed my first tri on a $40 mountain bike I snagged on craigslist. Her name was Sally and boy did we Ride. Ha. Get it? After completing my first tri, Randi graciously offered to loan me her bike until I decided what I wanted to do. Bikes are expensive. Tris are expensive. Good friends are good to have. Any-ol'-who. Larry and I spent many miles together. Larry is the name I gave the Scott - he was my "great, white hope." You know - Larry Bird. We rode several hundred miles together. I knew I was in love with triathlon, but Larry was just too big. Randi is two inches taller than I am and Larry just had me all kinds of over-extended.

My birthday rolled around and I scored some serious birthday cash. I asked Doug for "leeway" for my birthday so that I could get a bike that loved me as much as I loved it. We agreed on a general ballpark figure and off I went. Meet the contenders.

Behind door #1, we have the Giant.

The Giant Trinity 2, ladies model, was conservatively priced at $1499. This is the first bike I rode. I felt that the Giant was a little flimsy, but overall, a good fit. I couldn't believe how easy it was to get into aero position on this bike. Larry and I struggled with aero. He was too big, the bars were too far out in front of me, and I was scared to death. It took miles - m i l e s - for me to talk myself into aero. Every time, I felt like I was going to die. I dropped down in the parking lot with this little lady. The Giant was at Bicycle World in Houston, which offers financing, but is an hour or more from home.

Contestant #2 is the Felt.

The Felt B16 was the second bike I rode. It had SRAM shifters (which I wasn't a fan of). They were sticky and fought back. And loud. Very, very loud. POP POP POP. Not my idea of fun. Rinny and Daniella had just taken 1st and 2nd at Kona on Felts and I was confident in their ability to build an outstanding bike. When I first starting paying attention to bikes, I really fell in love with the look of the Felt. I really wanted to love the Felt. I rode around the neighborhood, played around in aero, and was chased by a dog. Fun. Felt is an American company. Bonus points from the state of sunny California. The Felt was priced at $1799 at Webster Bicycle in my backyard, which offers layaway, but no financing. 

Our final contestant is the Fuji.

On a whim after a long ride, I dropped into Sun and Ski Sports. My friend Melissa works there. She and I have known each other since the 90s. Whoa. We're old. She's an Ironman, a mama, and a good person. I wanted to see what she had to say, so I popped in. The Fuji was priced at $1899, which was starting to eke out of my price range (regularly $2899). I took this bike for a spin in the parking lot and was instantly enamored. The bike fit well, but it was a little out of my league. Sun and Ski offers several payment options and is also in my backyard. Fuji, surprisingly, is also an American company and hails from PA. 

Doug and I kicked around these bikes. I tortured myself over $100. We went in to Sun and Ski together, and I had basically made up my mind that we were going to finance for a year and buck up and buy the Fuji. Doug wasn't sold. Yet. When we started talking real details with Melissa, we looked at what $1899 would get us at another store. It was NOT this bike. $1899 at another store would have given me a lesser bike with lesser components. Even the Felt at $1799 was well below the quality of the Fuji. After we talked through all of the details of the bike and what the shop had to offer in the way of payment plans and maintenance packages, we were ready to talk numbers. For anyone who's wondering what it was about the packages that sold me - Sun and Ski offers free fits for life, free minor adjustments for life, and they also offer a 4-month layaway plan where you get to take your bike home and leave them 3 post-dated checks. Pretty compelling compared to free fits for 90 days or 6 months, which was what Webster and Bicycle World were offering.

Because the bike was a 2012 and had been on the floor awhile (and demo'd a few times), they were willing to negotiate. When the night was over, I walked out with a brand new bike, a 3-year maintenance plan, and a new hydration system for under $2000. As an added bonus, Melissa put her old SPD pedals on the bike and loaned me her Sidi shoes until the time is right for Looks and fancier shoes. 

So without further ado, I give you Bruce the Bike. He and I will do great things together. We ride at dawn. I'll let you know how it goes.

Race report - Oilman 70.3 VOLUNTEER

***Let me be perfectly clear - this is my race report from my morning of VOLUNTEERING at my first 70.3 experience.***

Now that I've conquered the Olympic distance triathlon, my sights are set on HIMTX - the Galveston 70.3 race in April. Before I committed, I wanted to at least see a half iron so that I would have my head firmly wrapped around what I was stepping up to. Enter Oilman 70.3.

I woke up this morning at 3:30. 3:30 in the morning. You know. Like 30 minutes before 4:00 a.m. Anywho, I drove 82 miles without passing a single place to stop and get coffee. Dunkin Donuts snubbed me. McD's snubbed me. Hell. Even the gas stations snubbed me. It was brutal. Dark. Early. 39 degrees. No coffee. No breakfast. No adrenaline (because of the no racing thing). Two miles before my destination, I finally found a gas station that was open. Incidentally, every athlete on the way to Oilman found this place, too. The parking lot was a bike porn fantasy. After I snagged some less-than-stellar coffee, I finally made it to La Torreta.

I made my way to the volunteer area where I spent the next hour and a half directing folks to T1 and to the timing chip line. Not exactly glamorous, but I did get to see a ton of awesome athletes, bikes, and transition bags. When T1 closed, I was directed to the swim start with a bag full of extra caps. Of course there was only one guy who dropped his cap on the way, but I was glad I was there to help.

While we were standing on the edge of the water in the now-40-degree howling wind, I met some pretty amazing people. First, this guy's family. They were there to commemorate the two-month mark of Matt's passing at the Bridgeland Triathlon. Matt's brothers and sister-in-law completed the relay. Inspirational stuff. Then I met the guy who isn't Mike Reilly, but he still gets to say, "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!" hundreds of times a year. His name was Mark. He was wearing a pink sock hat that said #MEOW. I learned a lot about racing from Mark and I hope to find him at another race some day soon. Somewhere in there, I saw Adam Ring and wished him a great race. It's so cool to see people you actually know at a big race! I also met Alan from Austin who was sporting bib number 512. Serendipitous, he said. Alan was a para-athlete who had lost his left leg. Doing what, I know not. But it really doesn't matter Alan was embarking on his first 70.3 race and he needed somebody to keep his leg safe and make sure it made it to the swim finish. I was his girl. I followed Alan to the water, helped him pack up his leg, and told him I'd pray for him while he was in the water. Alan did amazing. He finished right in the middle of his age group. Go Alan, go! I helped him get out of the water and over to wetsuit stripping, where he reassembled himself. I can't wait until they post results so I can see how Alan did for the bike and the run!

While I was waiting for Alan, I had 40-ish minutes to observe, cheer, and learn. I learned a few things.

First - people are amazing. I believe the field was almost 900 folks. Of those 900, I think I watched at least 850 climb the ladder out of the water. Totally amazing.

Second - people are jerks. I witnessed the single-most jerk-like thing I've ever seen in my life today. At Oilman, they have the ladies swim first. This can be super cool if you're really worried about making cutoffs. If you're worried about the more aggressive men swimming over the top of you, this could be a not-so-cool thing. If you're worried about the most asinine jerk on the face of the planet PHYSICALLY REMOVING YOU FROM THE LADDER as you try to get out of the water... well, that was this guy. There were two ladies at ladder 1 of 6. This dude swam up behind them, pushed the first lady out of the way, and grabbed the second lady (who was easily 3 rungs up the ladder), and tried to pull her off the ladder. She screamed, "HEY!" at the dude as I simultaneously leaned over the edge of the dock in my super official CREW shirt and said, "NO SIR - there are FIVE other ladders if you're THAT anxious." Can you imagine swimming 1.2 miles and having some creeptastic twit pull you off the ladder? Holy cow! Poor woman.

Third - I can totally do this. I will do this. I cannot wait to do this. April will be here before you know it and I will be the one standing on the water's edge in my wetsuit instead of my CREW shirt and wind pants.

Fourth - you should always take two seconds to thank the volunteers. For every dozen racers who didn't thank me, the 13th racer who did made it worth my while to drag myself out of bed at 3:30 and drive 84 miles to stand in the cold to make sure that everybody out there had a good race.

Fifth - smile. Seriously. The people who were smiling were moving so much more nimbly. It was incredible to see the difference in the posture of the athletes who were smiling versus those who were grimacing. We do this for fun. Smile = fun. It's simple.

Sixth (and last) - if you choose to volunteer, go out of your way for someone. Whoever had chip number 128 lost the chip before he or she ever set foot in the water. I snagged it, found another ankle strap, and strapped it to the racer's bike. I don't know who number 128 is or whether that person had a good race (although I will know tomorrow when I check the results!). I don't know whether he or she was a smiler or a scowler. Heck, it could've even been jerkface who pulled that lady off the ladder. But just whatever man. When that person got to TI with no chip and found that some tri angel (ahem... moi) had strapped that chip to the bike racked at 128? I sure hope that person sighed a huge sigh of relief and had an incredible bike knowing that there was somebody out there who cared enough to lend a hand.

So there ya have it. My first 70.3 experience was super rewarding and very educational. Now if you'll excuse me, I got up at 3:30 this morning. I have a rendezvous with my pillow.