Wendy Damonte - Eat, Play and Live - a Lifestyle Blog

 I really must be trying to put this race behind me because I totally forgot in my bike leg race report to tell you how I screamed at a squirrel about to run right under my bike. I’m not sure who was more surprised. Me or the squirrel. Seriously, who screams at a rodent during a race?? Or how about the wild dog that decided to run out onto the bike course and nearly take out several racers going 40 miles an hour down a steep grade. Forgot about that too. Anyway, to get to the run leg, I’ll pick up at the very end of the bike course. My friend, Heidi, and I cruised down old Highway 40 and ended up back at the transition area to quickly put on our running shoes, hat and to see if my legs would actually hold me up. They did so I had to keep going.  Damn!  Keep in mind, I’ve now been racing for about 5 1/2 hours. As we left the transition, I told Heidi I had to pee, BADLY. She said, “Well, just go. That’s what triathletes do. We all do it. Just run and pee.” “WHAT?????????????” I replied. And then I started laughing, thinking how rediculous all us athletes truly are… and that was enough. I couldn’t hold it.  My giggles were like hammers pounding open the flood gates.  And so without actually making the decision to be a “true” triathlete and pee and run, I was forced into that elite crowd due to lack of bladder control. Problem was, I was still in the Donner Lake Park where lots of people where hanging around cheering us on!  Literally, dozens of people were clapping as we ran by.  I pulled my hat down low, praying no one would recognize me, and then prayed some more that my biking shorts would absorb the contents of my bladder.  And when I finally looked down… oh Lord!!  It was like a sprinkler was going off in my shorts!  Pee spraying every which way!  I was dying… both from embarrassement and from the fact it felt so good to be peeing! I now totally get why real triathletes do this!! It feels like stepping into a shower with clothes on… completely weird but exciting at the same time.   I’ve either totally lost it at this point, or this triathlon thing is definitely for me!  Fortunately, it was about 90 degrees so the entire mess dried before mile 3. The rest of the run leg was way less exciting. Literally, it was me talking to myself, forcing myself not to quit, playing mind games to keep one foot in front of the other and then at mile 12.5 I really wanted to give up. I had 5 minutes left in this 7 hour race and all I wanted to do was stop.  I tried to run faster, but literally I couldn’t.  And at mile 12.5, a 60 year old woman came up from behind me and said, “Come on!  Let’s finish this thing!”  And so she and I ran step for step the rest of the way into the finish line.  As I crossed, I was overcome with emotion.  I was about to break down sobbing when a friend of mine and her boyfriend came up and offered me a diet coke.  I choked down a few sips and was able to stop my flood of tears.  I didn’t know them well enough to sob in their arms so luckily I got control of my emotions.  Finally, I found Amy and Heidi.  We looked around at everyone at the finish line.  One guy was crawling on the ground moaning about how this race made him shit himself… twice.  Others were just shaking their head saying, “this is the hardest race they’ve ever done,”  and others were freaked out because they were doing this race as training for the Ironman Tahoe coming up on September 22.  It made me feel better that everyone else thought it was a tough race.  Because this race nearly broke me.  So Amy, after you read this, call me.   9 days later, and I’m just now able to laugh about it!!

In any triathlon I’ve done, the swim is always my strongest leg. I swam in college and have always maintained a pretty decent fitness level swimming. Well, you all know how my swim leg went… so that didn’t bode well for the rest of my race. After getting out of the lake at 38 minutes, I got on my bike and headed up old Highway 40. It’s 3 miles of straight up. It’s a grind, but I’ve done it before and so knew what to expect. At the top, I was preparing to just settle in and make sure I stayed on top of my nutrition. Nutrition was key for me in this race since I couldn’t really work out for 2 months leading up to it. I had to have good nutrition!! At the top of 40, I heard this weird “zip” followed by an odd “splat.” 2 minutes later, the same weird “zip” followed by an identical “splat.” WTH? So I look down and two of my Gus, which Lynn had painstakingly taped to my bike, had ripped off and splatted on the road. CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!! All I have in this race is nutrition!!! And now, of my 3 Gus taped to my bike, I’ve lost 2. I quickly grabbed the third one and stuffed it in my sports bra. That baby had to be safe. I also stuffed my bra with 2 of my homemade power bars (recipe for these nuggets of goodness to come as well… if I can convince my partner in the kitchen, Ken, to give up the recipe!). So now, instead of eating every 40 minutes, I was going to have to extend it to about every 1 hour and 10 minutes. Not ideal. After the big climb out of the lake, the ride went from Sugarbowl Ski Resort down to Cisco Grove, back up to Sugarbowl, back down to Cisco Grove and then back up to Sugarbowl and finally back down to the lake.  Total of 56 miles.  My first lap was actually pretty good. The downhills were super fun and the up hills were super challenging. But I was still in a good mood, so life was ok. The second loop,everything changed. The downhill seemed longer, the uphill seemed to never end. My mood went from jovial, talking to fellow racers, to pissed off asking myself why I would ever sign up for something like this, let alone pay good money to do it! Maybe it was because I had about 70% lung capacity, according to one of my doctors. Maybe it was because I hadn’t worked out in 60 days. Or maybe because it was simply a brutal course.  I don’t know why I hated this ride so much, but it doesn’t matter.  This ride was a bitch… and the last thing I wanted to do when I finally got off the bike after 3 hours and 50 minutes was go for a run… let alone a 13 mile run.  I’ll let you know how that half marathon went, tomorrow.

The week leading up to my first ever complete half Ironman (I did one last year in Sunriver, OR but they shortened the bike course to just 25 miles due to snow on Mt. Bachelor) was extremely stressful. But the morning of the race was glorious! My friends Amy, Heidi and I stayed at my Little Friend Lynn’s cabin at Donner. We woke up at 4:45, had a fabulous breakfast of Paleo “oatmeal” (recipe to come after I get through this damn “race report” and can start talking about important things like food!!) and headed down to the lake shore by 6:15. This is the fun time of race day. Everyone mingles around, shares war stories and swaps advice on everything from Gu to compression socks to peeing during a race. It’s almost for this one hour that I compete. I love people watching. I love the electricity in the air. I love the anticipation of a race about to begin.  At 7:45, my race did begin. And it began well… for about 300 yards. The water temperature was perfect, the lake was calm and my wave was manageable… not too many swimmers to make me claustrophobic. The swim course was one loop. We would first head for an orange booey that was so far away it looked about the size of a pencil eraser. We would turn left at that booey and head for a white booey on the other side of the lake where we would again turn left and head for shore.

When the horn sounded, we took off like a gaggle of geese trying to get enough speed to take flight. Only we would remain in the water for about 25 minutes… at least that was my goal time. I made it about 300 yards when it happened. My lungs went from feeling fine to feeling like they couldn’t get a deep breath. I first flipped on my back to get them under control but that didn’t help. I next looked for the orange booey and it was now the size of a small gumball… I still had a long way to go. And I freaked out. Was this what my doctor warned me of? Were my lungs going into a full asthmatic attack? I had no idea but I knew I had to get some help. I lifted my arm and headed straight for a safety kayak. I pulled up on her bow and started breathing deeply. This cute young girl said, “Are you ok?” I said I wasn’t sure. I just needed a minute to catch my breath. I then looked ahead and saw another safety kayak about 100 yards away. I decided to swim to that kayak and see how things were going. When I plunged back into the water, I was filled with fear that 6 months of hard core training had come to this; a 5 minute race I had to pull out of. I asked myself how disappointed I would be if I had to stop. I honestly answered “pretty damn disappointed” so I told myself to keep going to the next kayak and reevalute at that point. When I got there, surprisingly I felt a bit better. I decided to keep going to the booey, make the turn, and again reevaluate. When I got to the booey, a miracle happened. Someone called out my name! I lifted my head and saw Amy swimming toward me!! “What are you doing here? I thought you were way ahead of me.” “I can’t breathe,” she replied. “Oh good! Neither can I!! Let’s stick together and finish this thing.” And we did. We got to the white booey fairly easily, turned left, and headed back to the beach. Time? 38 minutes. I guess that’s what happens when you hang out on a kayak for 10 minutes! Next up? The bike. I’ll get to the leg tomorrow.