Race report: My One Boston race at "Rage" Las Vegas

This wasn't the best race ever. I ended up riding on a flat for way too long, and then stopping to change it, so my bike time sucked. But the swim and the run were still fun and a chance to practice my racing strategy. I started out too fast in the swim, went hypoxic, and had to breast stroke for a while. It was a good reminder to myself that I don’t race that way. I tend to start slow and pick people off ahead of me one by one. But I got back into it and finished strong.

The run was uphill for 3.1 miles, and then back downhill, which made for a great feeling. I started slow-ish and just kept telling myself to keep it under control, and to really turn it on at the top, which I did. It was also the first race I have ever done with a group of friends. We got to look out for each other on the race course and get ready at the beginning. Then we went out to lunch afterward and pounded as many calories as we could, while deconstructing the race. I also got to hear a few of the stories from the people there. What brought us to triathlon, and what we took away from it.

Everyone has a story. Everyone has been on a journey. For one of us, this was the last triathlon race due to some pretty serious injuries. When this guy crossed the finish line and the announcer said, “You’re done,” it hit him like a hammer. Triathlon has become part of our lives and it is a hard thing to give up and to move on to another part of life. I suppose we’ll all have to give it up at some point, and there’s a temptation to look away from that pain.

I love the way that triathlon has taught me about the goodness of people. A woman stopped to ask me if she could help with my tire issue. I have unique tubes, so she couldn’t. She went on to say she would go ahead and see if she could find anyone else with tubes or the bike support van. This one woman reminded me of the goodness of the people of Boston and how they reacted so immediately to the disaster in their city by going to donate blood, running to help rather than running away, offering places to stay to runners and family, and actually paying attention to the city-wide lockdown.

At the hotel all day Friday the day before the race, we were watching the news for updates on the search for the Boston Marathon bombers. For me it was especially tense because my oldest daughter is at MIT. She was in lockdown and was physically safe, but also kept thinking about how easily she might have been in the way of the suspects since she walks home from the library right by the site of the killing.

When I was so frustrated with my bike and the fact that I hadn’t brought my own equipment to change my tire (a mistake I didn’t realize until the race), I was tempted to sit by the side of the road and throw in the towel. But I’ve been in enough situations that were similar that I chose to keep going. It’s not the only honorable choice, but I was proud of myself for thinking that now I had a chance to enjoy the scenery and to find out who I was. There are a lot of different challenges in life. The emotional challenge of dealing with the grief and anger of Boston was far more difficult than the challenge of racing, but the race itself helped me put aside other thoughts, at least for a while.

It wasn’t officially a One Boston race, but I think no one could have been at Rage without thinking about how easy it is to go to a sporting event and be a target. There was no extra security as far as I saw, but in one way, continuing on with our race as usual is a way to fight back, to show we will not be cowed, in the same way that the city of Boston did this last week.

Ultimately, triathlon is for me a little bit of life, the good and the bad. Time doesn’t matter in the end. It’s the experience itself that matters, and for me, putting aside my watch was a good reminder of why I really race. Not to win a medal, but to win at life.