#oaklandtri

The 28 weeks of training I'd done were leading up to this event. I don't think I could have felt more ready even if I had gone out and done the entire course before the race. My parents had flown in from northern Washington, and my aunt and uncle were coming up from Hayward to cheer me on. I was looking forward to doing this race with almost 50 of my team mates.

My alarm went of at 4:00 am, at 4:09 am, and at 4:18 am I got up, pulled on my tri shorts and brand new Oakland Triathlon Club tri top, cooked up an egg and some egg whites, grabbed my new bike and bag-o-gear, and headed out the door.

I wanted to be on the road by 5:00 am, and I was ahead of schedule, which is somewhere I always like to be. I was thankful that this race was so close to home, I figured I'd be set up and ready to go before 6:00 am, and have over an hour to relax and get my mind unscrambled.

By 6:00 am I was racked and set up, taking some time to enjoy the fragrant dog pee smell right next to our team bike racks, and taking some deep breaths - visualizing breathing out the hot, black smoke of insecurity and fear, and breathing in the cool, blue air of calmness and peace (and dog pee). Our racks started filling up with yellow and green, and I was, dare I say it, starting to get excited about this race?

While the event announcer was telling the International sprint distances to start the walk towards the water start, I started the adventure of putting on my wetsuit. I caught up with Lulu and Ravi on the walk over, they were competing in the Duathlon but wanted to check out the swim start. Talking with them on the walk over was really relaxing, and got my head back into the present and away from all of the pot holes I was remembering on the bike course.

I found Priya, Monica, and Cindi at the swim start and nervously discussed something I don't even remember. Priya and I headed down to the dock to get into the water and start warming up. Before I knew it, our gun fired and we were off.

Photo by Ravi Rao

Swimming is the event I struggle with the most, and the event I put most of my focus into during training. My first triathlon I didn't get more than 50 feet in the water before I gave up. This time, though, this time I was determined to give it my all. I'm proud to say that I did. My last two triathlons I've breast stroked or doggy paddled most of the course, this time I was able to free style the entire way. I'd push myself to the next buoy and give myself a few breast strokes as a reward and a quick sighting, then right back into free style. Rounding the first big yellow buoy I heard, "MONIKA! MONIKA!" as I turned my head to breathe and saw my family jumping and cheering for me, I quickly waved and headed right back into my rhythm.

I wasn't too clustered in the swim, I found Priya near the middle and gave her a thumbs up. This was going good, we were ok, we've got this. I slapped someone hard on the chest as I went in for a pull and it ended up being Angie, and after a quick apology we ended up coming out of the water right behind each other.

The swim exit was kind of a cluster; people were yelling to keep horizontal as we approached the volunteers who'd be pulling us from the water, but people were falling and my hands kept touching slimy gross rocks and plant life and I really just wanted to be up and not touching gross things I couldn't see. It seemed like an eternity but I finally felt astroturf under my hands and started standing up. I headed up the gangway to the pedestrian path, caught sight of my family again, and headed towards... dun dun dun... the pedestrian bridge.

In my limited experience, the transition from swim to bike is a short run from the water to the bike racks - but Oakland likes to be different. Our run would include climbing up and over a set of Amtrak railroad lines on a pedestrian bridge. The stairs were narrow, and me and stairs just don't get along. I didn't trust myself wearing flip flops or slip-on shoes for the stairs, so I just went barefoot.

I jogged into transition, stripped off the rest of my wetsuit, got into my running shoes, grabbed my helmet and bike and took off for the ride. When I wake up in the mornings, I open up Spotify and shuffle my list of favorite tracks. This morning the magical sorting algorithm started playing Lou Reed's "Perfect Day".

Cruising up Broadway on my new Cannondale EVO 6, I started my rounds of singing the day's chosen song. "Oh it's a perfect day," weave around a manhole cover, "I'm glad I spent it with yooooou," dodge a pot hole, "Oh such a perfect day, you just keeeeeep me haaaaanging oooooon," try not to take that turn too sharp.

I noticed on the ride that the pros in their aero positions never call out "on your left!", while the regular riders do, and that OTC in general uses the warcry, "GO OTC!" to announce that they're coming up on you. It was a little battery recharge every time I heard it.

The ride was incredible, but I saw some scary stuff like a guy overtaking people by passing them on the right... in a right handed turn. It made me be more aware of my surroundings and who was around me.

Oh it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you.

Before I knew it, the bike was over and it was on to the run. I felt good, I jogged off my jello legs on the way to racking my bike. I'd heard rumors that the pedestrian bridge was coming back into play, but I'd read the web site and looked at the race map and we were't going back over that thing. I ran under the assumption that we were going up Oak St. to Lake Merritt and back, and felt good. I heard more "GO OTC!" out on the run course, and saw my friends Roxy and Niraj waiting for me near the lake to dish out high fives and cheers. It was so incredible to see them, I thought my heart would burst.

A man in a sharp tan suit, waiting for the bus on Oak St, asked if I felt good as I ran past him. "Yeah, I feel good!" I replied. "Good to hear baby girl - cause you look good too! Get it!" You just don't get that kind of cheering during races in vineyards.

It's such a perfect day.

Photo by Christina Sobul Grijalva

I walked for less than 3 minutes total during the run, I was sure to count to myself to make sure I didn't walk too much (like I did in my last tri). I felt like I had much more stamina, I was able to jog and recover, and speed back up once I caught my breath. It turned out that the rumors were true and we were headed back up over that pedestrian bridge. Through the parking lot at the Jack London Aquatic Center I paced with a 75 year old man who joked, "this wasn't on the travel brochure!" as we weaved through the cars. It felt like the finish line was a forever ways away, but the crowd kept cheering me on telling me I was so so close. I saw the finish, and I ran as hard as I could. On the other side was my family, hooting and hollering, OTC high fives, and cheers and a big CVL hug.

Just a perfect day, problems all left alone.

My family hung out for a bit, but they'd been up really early too, so after an hour or so they went back to Hayward for a nap. I stuck around for a team photo that was going to happen at some point, and while standing around drinking my free beer and eating my free burrito, I heard my name being called (or mispronounced). What? Why are they calling my name? Are they towing my car?

I placed 3rd in the Athena division for the Sprint race. I stood on the podium, gobsmacked. I don't think I even congratulated the other two winners on the podium with me.

What a day, what a day. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. The surprising thing was that this amazing experience wasn't even over.

The race announcer let us know that the last athlete was coming into the finish chute just now. En masse, everyone wearing an Oakland Triathlon Club jersey rushed to the finish line. We covered the railings, we cheered, clapped, cried, and congratulated the last athlete with her achievement. She did it, and she was wonderful.

You're going to reap just what you sow...

Things wrapped up and I walked back to transition with my team mates to pack up. I collapsed into my car and exhaled. Maybe it was from exhaustion and maybe it was just happiness, but I cried happy tears. I felt so alive, I felt so proud, I felt connected, and so... good. 

I crossed the finish line in 2:06:19

750m swim in 19:53 T1 in 10:27 - I hate stairs 40k (12.45mi in freedom units) bike ride in 52:34 T2 in 2:16 5k (3.1mi) run in 41:09

I trimmed 13 minutes off my previous overall race time (which didn't include a pedestrian bridge), 14 minutes off my previous 750m swim (some of that is thanks to a current behind us), maintained my previous bike time on a very technical and twisty course on a new bike, and maintained my regular 5k race pace after a swim and bike and back over that fucking pedestrian bridge.

I've fought with my body as long as I can remember. For the longest time I've felt like my head was a balloon that just floats over my body. I feel connected to it now, I'm delighted with what it can do, I'm amazed at how strong it feels. I feel so lucky to have had these coaches and team mates that cheer for me and support me, and help me reconnect with... me.

It was a perfect day, and I'm glad I spent it with you (all).