Mulligan, Please!

It was finally here..the morning of my first race as a pro. I've been anticipating for months now, and I've played it out in my head, hundreds of times. I knew the field was going to be stacked, I've had moments of fear and intimidation, knowing that I'm about to jump in with the sharks. But not today. I was calm, collected and ready to go!

I wake up on time, feeling well rested after a decent nights sleep. Eat breakfast, gather my gear and head out my hotel door and walk to the swim start. Just as I reach the race venue, the first person I see fidgeting around in a dark parking lot is my coach, Lesley Paterson. She too is racing today, and she will be a force to be reckoned with. We both dig our helmets out of one of the many bags we are carrying, strap it on and hop on the bikes to ride the rest of the way in to transition.

Upon arriving to my spot on the rack, I realize my bike is racked next to Les, directly across from Rinny (one of my all time faves and heros), and kitty corner from many other big names this sport knows. Right down to business, we all start prepping our bikes, loading our nutrition, etc. A little chatter, but not much. Next thing I know, Kevin from the Tri Lounge comes over and introduces me to two people and wants a few pictures. He interviewed me the day before. It's is not a normal occurrence for me pre-race, but I'm rolling with it. Done with that, I grab my iPod, throw on my running shoes and head out for a run warm up with my pump up songs and last chance potty stop. I'm feeling great!

I come back from the warm up, and I know it's time to get going. Wetsuit on, stuff the morning clothes bag and head to the water. I'm walking away with Rinny, goggles and cap in hand, and some good conversation. Another rookie pro, Adrienne, joins us, introduces herself, and out into the main isle of transition chaos we go.

The volunteer at the end of my bike rack points me to the right, saying "swim start this way." He pointed to the big balloon arch that's labeled Swim Start, so I trust him and go that way. Once I get there, I'm told I have to enter from the other end, and they turn us around. I'm still with Adrienne at this point, and we're dodging traffic left and right to get through. Almost at the other end of transition now, she veers right, and I see an opening slightly to the left. I make my way through, and I'm now leaving the north end of transition, where all the gates are opened and there are hundreds of athletes standing around. Hard right turn, and I'm on my way. I'm headed down the carpeted pathway, directly toward the swim start. Transition is to my right, the water to my left. I notice how nice the carpet feels on my feet, but never once does it occur to me I'm on the wrong path. I'm headed right down the nicely manicured section of carpeted dirt :).

I don't see Adrienne, I figure I made a good move and she's just behind me. I get all the way down to the end of the walkway, and they turn me back, AGAIN! Are you kidding me?? I throw a fit, starting to panic! They wouldn't let me hurdle over, so many athletes are following, and they wouldn't make any exceptions. I'm now sprinting in a panic, shouting at everyone to let me through. All the way back around and into transition again, I see the small chute I should have entered when I chose to dodge left and Adrienne went right. Sprinting, and I mean sprinting and shouting, I run down the chute. As I get closer, Mike Rielly sees me from the tower and says over the mic, "pink cap coming, female pro coming, let her through." As I run down the boat ramp, I enter the beautiful Pacific with what I'm sure was a very graceful dive, and just as my feet leave the ground, the cannon fires. My heart sank to the deepest part of the ocean. The race was under way, and I still had a 300-400 yard swim just to get to the deep water start line. I knew I'd have my work cut out for me today, but this was a whole new ball game!

Out in the Ocean all by myself was a whole new experience. I didn't see another human being the entire swim, except for the kayakers. Not being a strong swimmer, it gave me a whole new appreciation for the swimmers at the front of the pack. The only thing I could do was swim hard, do my best to pick a straight line, and reinforce positive thoughts into my head. It never occurred to me to turn back, I just kept telling myself that I could do this. It wasn't how I envisioned it, but it was what I had dealt myself, so figure it out Ali. I did my best to stay focused, and was out of the water in 32:08.

A long run through transition, and I pulled up to my bike on the rack, all by its lonesome. The volunteer right by my bike was my cute friend, Marison. Some good positive words from her made me smile. Quick change of gear and I'm outta there! Happy to be on my bike, where I'm much more comfortable. I knew it would be a long, lonely ride. But somewhere inside me I clung to the hope that I could ride some girls down. I knew it would take patience, but my strengths were still ahead of me. I tried to focus on what I could control..nutrition and my attitude.

Photo credit Michellie Jones, thanks MJ!

I caught the first female pro at mile eight, and it felt good. I had no idea how far up the next girl or girls were, I rode for miles and miles without a single person in sight. Just me, my bike and a lot of "Ali talkin' to Ali" :). Plugging along, somewhere around mile 20, I see several girls coming towards me, and I can tell who some of them are. Yay! Now I'm watching to see how far to the turn to see how far back I am. I'm thinking about a mile and a half. Come on Ali, you can get them!

The back half of the bike was much harder for me, both mentally and physically. The hills come out, which typically works to my advantage, and the wind kicked up a bit. Mile after mile I continue to battle, but my legs just aren't giving me what I had hoped for. I wasn't able to pass another girl until around mile 40. Over the last 15 or so miles, I did pass a few more girls, which really made me feel better mentally! I rolled into transition with a 2:40:00 bike split.

Coming into T2, thanks Kevin for the pic!

Just as I was entering T2, I heard my hubby and cute kids screaming like mad for me. I needed this, I was so happy to see them! They didn't yet know what the day had thrown my way, but they knew I was off a bit and wasn't having my typical day. They shouted every awesome thing you can think of, and ran along side me outside of transition.

I get into transition to find that my assigned spot on the rack has been taken. I'm clearly flustered, shouting that there is nowhere to put my bike. There's not a single inch anywhere. Romney tells me to try to slide the bikes down, so I lean my bike against the wheels of five bikes and attempt to slide one or two bikes. There is so much crap everywhere, they won't budge. As I dump all of my run stuff out of my bag and throw my shoes and socks on, a race volunteer comes over and tells me he'll take care of my bike. Thank you! In my flustered state, my socks were all wrinkled and the tongue of my shoes had some folds in it. I didn't realize it until I had started running, and I thought about stopping to fix things, but didn't. Note to self..if this ever happens again, FIX IT!!! They came back to haunt me later.

Just getting started...

Out onto the course, I can see two girls up ahead. My goal at this point is to get the first mile under my belt, and hopefully my run legs will show up. Again, like on the bike, I'm trying to worry about the things I can control and stay positive. I had some decent miles early on, before the problems with my shoes and socks became an issue. My legs just didn't have the spunk they needed to put out a great run split. I plugged along, trying to forget about the pain. I wanted to quit, and really, I could think of several reasons that seemed like good, justifiable causes for pulling out of the race. "Shut up Ali, that's not an option!" I have not yet DNF'd, and today wasn't going to be the day. I had my whole family there supporting me, and I needed to stick this thing out for them.

More pics courtesy of Kevin at Tri Lounge!

The run turned from bad to worse, and became a matter of mind over body. At mile 10, my feet hurt so bad from blisters and numbness, that I stopped and took my socks off! I've never done anything like this before, but I figured it couldn't get any worse, and what if it could possibly help? I was able to shuffle through the last three miles of the race without socks. I crossed the finish line in 1:34:42 and was almost lethargic. I think I was just beginning to process everything.

These kiddos kept me going today!

I've since had the chance to look back and reflect on the day. I woke up Sunday morning with a fever, sore throat and congestion, which has allowed me more time to think and dissect things. I have never been an excuse maker, and I'm not one now! They say hindsight is 20/20, and boy do I see things more clearly from this side of the race.

The good news is there are so many positive things I can take with me, and I will choose to do just that! I don't ever have to have that nightmare that so many of us have had before..missing the swim start. It became my reality Saturday, now I can check that off! There are some things I could have changed, and some I couldn't have changed in the days leading up to the race. I will focus on what I could have done differently. I learned invaluable lessons about myself, and not giving up. The list goes on... I am proud to have finished this race, regardless of my placing that day. Do I wish it all started and ended differently? Of course I do! But perhaps someday, as time takes the sting away, I will be able to look back and be grateful for the lessons learned. I look forward to fighting another fight, as we all know there are so many more battles ahead! St. George 70.3 will be my next chance.

I am overwhelmed with love and support from family, friends and sponsors! I truly couldn't be on this journey without them. Canyon Bicycles, Wasatch Running, Dr. Greg Freebairn, ISM Saddles, GU and Saucony, thank you!!!

Now, can I have my Mulligan, please?