October 27, 2009
Karen L.

Triathlon is an individual sport. I can swim, bike, and run with others, but on race day my performance is all me. There’s tremendous comfort in the fact that others are out there working their butts off, too, but theoretically we are each in our own little pain bubble dealing with our own personal demons.

In the same way, diabetes is an individual disease. Most of the time I’m the only one in a particular group dealing with diabetes, and even if I weren’t, it’s up to me to take care of all of it solo. While people are sympathetic, most don’t get it (and to be fair, I don’t ‘get’ many of their challenges, either), and it makes for an isolating experience.

Sunday’s Longhorn 70.3 race was an amazing day for me in so many ways. The race was a huge personal challenge that I’ve been working on for months. But it was NOT a solo journey. First and foremost there was the big concept of team, and it was powerful and moving. Yes, we had to accomplish each physical feat in the race on our own, but in the same way that a wetsuit helps in the swim, we were buoyed by our amazing coaches and medical staff out there on the course. I kept seeing energizer bunny head coach Yoli on the run course, and surely she must’ve run a comparable distance to us so that she could spot each of us many times. Nicole was yelling from an SUV as she drove our videographer out to get good shots of us grinning through the pain. Celeste set an amazing and focused example as I spotted her coming in to complete her third loop of the run as I was heading out on my first. Marcey seemed to be head cheerleader from the tailgating tent in her pink “I (heart) carbs” t-shirt, yelling out nutrition and hydration tips as we turned to complete each loop. And Matt risked extreme sun exposure to see us twice on each loop, checking to see how our blood sugars were doing and how we were feeling.

Also, our support people. We had partners, parents, siblings, and friends of teammates out there rooting for all of us. Some of our loved ones sacrificed meals to get out on the course and take as many picture of the team as they could. We had Texas connections who helped out our team with race logistics and no doubt suffered cheering-related injuries such as bruised clapping hands and lost voices. Thank you, supporters.

Then there were the other racers. We’d been written up in the Athlete’s Guide that we picked up in our race packets a couple days before the race, so many people had read about us. Because we also had a booth at the race expo, people had seen the news about our team, or perhaps they’d been there when we had our team launch on Saturday. In any case, many, many times out on the course I was cheered on by other racers. “Go WILD!”, or “keep it up, Team WILD!”, I’d hear as I was pedaling hard into a brisk headwind or considering slowing to a walk on my trudging run. Yes, this was an individual event, but so many people were interested in seeing my individual effort become a success, and I loved loved loved that they were willing to take a small bit of the energy that they desperately needed for themselves in this race and spend it on my team. Thank you, racers.

And my teammates. Except for our swim coach Celeste, this was a first 70.3 for each of us, and we entered the race with a certain amount of trepidation. Everyone was so supportive and encouraging to each other, and helped out when there were malfunctioning meters and forgotten snacks to hide in the wetsuit just before the race started. We commiserated on each other’s highs and lows (blood sugars, that is), and when three of us ended up in the medical tent (temporarily!) after the race we had teammates there for support. Because of the way the run course was laid out, I saw most of my teammates at least a couple of times on the run, and it was wonderful to share high fives and status updates. Who couldn’t be spurred on by the infectious smile of JennyS, Ramona’s absolute bald glee, or Lyndsay’s focused determination? Diabetes may be a very individual disease, and triathlon may be an individual sport, but we, as a group, did this. We did it!

So how did the race go? Wonderfully. I was manhandled more than usual in the swim, didn’t like the condition of the roads at some points in the bike, and could’ve done without the 4 visits to the porta-potties (kept well hydrated!). On the other hand, I was grateful we could wear wetsuits, there were a ton of volunteers that made sure every turn was a success on the twisty bike route, and the cold wet towels to wrap around our necks on the run were a lifesaver. There were icky weeds in the lake, icky headwind on the ride, spectacularly slow transition times, and by the end of the race my whole body smelled like feet. And a great swim time for me, really nice weather that could’ve been much much worse, and of course a PR (personal record), as this was my first race at this distance. Not to mention all the fantastic support and encouragement detailed above. I had fun! 7:24:38 worth of fun!

Was it a success? Abso-freaking-lutely. Thank you, Mari, and rock on, Team WILD.