The Country Mouse Goes to a Triathlon

I have always been tempted by the challenge of a triathlon. I love to run, enjoy swimming in the summer, and ride my bike sometimes, so why not give it a try?

Off I went one fine Saturday morning with my swim trunks, a pair of goggles the kids used to wear, my Mountain bike from Walmart, and a Food Lion bag with my tennis shoes and a towel inside.

I was feeling great until I approached the transition area to set-up and found a land where tri-suits and wetsuits abounded. Racer bikes with solid disc wheels, arm bars that extended out from the handlebars, and aerodynamic helmets made me wonder if I had any idea what I was getting into. I really did feel like someone had just let the country mouse slip into the Prom of racing.

Thankfully, my Edenton friends and veteran tri-athletes Brian Harvill, Rachel Johnson, Carlos Carrera, and Ted Haigler answered my questions and even helped me figure out how to put on the fancy swim cap that somebody handed me to wear while telling me that it was required.

We headed down to the water to swim 750 meters. Now on paper that did not sound as far as it actually was. Ten strokes in and the kids goggles were pushed up on my head after I quickly tired of the water leaking in and the feeling that my eyes were being pushed back into my brain. Twenty strokes in, I was questioning my sanity. I don't know if I have ever swam that far in my life and had not swam at all since last summer.

What was I doing? I seriously contemplated faking a cramp and calling it quits. But no, you cannot spend your life encouraging others to dream big and work hard and the give up before even reaching the first buoy. So, onward. Doggy-paddling, floating on my back, faking a backstroke, treading water, and the occasional real swim stroke became the go-to move.

I was fooling no-one. The Safety boats kept drifting over towards me with the Rescue Personnel giving that look of "yep, won't be long until we are pulling this one in." I had to laugh at how ridiculous I must have looked with my fancy swim cap on sideways and the kid goggles threatening to fall off of my head, doggy-paddling to beat the band.

Somehow, the country mouse made it around the course and came stumbling out of the water like I had just swam across the English Channel. Granted, I was dead last among the men and had been passed by most of the women who started a full five minutes after me, but I was on dry land and running up the hill to find my bike.

Shirt, sunglasses, shoes, socks, Walmart helmet on my head, and I was off. I was quickly taught by a friendly volunteer that you cannot get on your bike until you get to the "mounting area." Off the bike, a run to the "mounting area" and again I was off. I thought I was flying. Surely I would catch some of the guys ahead of me. That thought was dashed as I was passed by three more women, including my buddy Rachel who shouted encouragement as she streaked by me.

I can only guess that my lack of speed was because my Walmart cruiser didn't have the turbo gears those sleek racers must have. Either that, or not riding in a year is not a good way to prepare. 14 miles weren't too bad. I was mostly by myself; rolling down quiet roads with plenty of time to think about new hobbies I might want to pursue.

Back to the transition area with the howling of rusty brakes as I approached the "dismounting area." Off the bike I jumped to push it back to the holding area. That was the plan at least, until I realized that my legs had turned to jello and walking was a little more challenging than I anticipated.

As I left for the final challenge (a relatively flat 5K), my buddy and course volunteer Steve Biggs hollered out, "You're making it!" I joyfully replied, "I can do this part!" with more confidence than my jello legs should have allowed.

After a quarter-mile of jello-legging it, I finally found my stride and ran a great 5K to end the day. I was only slightly tempted to walk, but persevered and ran a Top 10 time for the 5K portion. Of course, that was only slight consolation for coming in dead-last among the men.

Last place is a hard pill to swallow when you are as competitive as I am, but the smile when the Finisher's Medal was draped around my neck was genuine. I had loved it and I had made it!

With my lightening quick pace in the triathlon, I was given a beautiful glass for earning third place in my age group. My friend Joy Harvill texted my beautiful wife Rene the good news to which René lovingly replied, "It's a good thing there were only three guys in his age group!" It is no secret that Rene's mission in life is to keep me humble and laughing!

Yes, the country mouse went to the Triathlon and yes, he will be going back! Now I just have to figure out if they sell those fancy bikes at the Walmart in the next town over!

This was originally posted on my Facebook page on the day of the big event, Saturday, June 10, 2017.