The magnitude of this decision, this goal, this undertaking is such that even by my standards of "nothing's too big, nothing's too improbable, nothing's impossible" I have been, at times, left thinking "what was I thinking?"
I challenged myself in two fronts. The first was a bit more rational. As I turn 65 this year, I wanted to tackle something big, something memorable, something that would leave a mark on my 65th. Something that I could look back to and say, "hell yeah, I did that!" The second was, as still is, the one that sometimes has me scratching my head.
Over the years, as a Triathlete, I found and enjoyed much improvement on my bike and even more on the run. I make no secret that the swim and I have not seen eye to eye. Ever. I learned to embrace this and accepted the fact that I would never be a good swimmer. I accepted the fact that every time I got in the water, there would be a fight; one between the water and myself. And although I never had any mishaps, thank goodness, the water always seems to get the better of me.
This attitude went against my grain. It went against everything I stand for. Everything I preach and everything I teach. Why was I accepting that I 'couldn't' do something? Why was I complacent with this attitude? This began to wear thin on me. This was something that I needed to address, something that needed to be put to rest. But how?
In comes the challenge.
In order to get comfortable in the water, I would need to improve my skills. In order to improve my skills I needed more time in the water. In order to get all this accomplished I needed help.
But asking for help without a proper goal, seemed a bit out of sorts to me, and going to a coach and just asking to help me get more comfortable seemed kind of silly.
Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon as been on my bucket list for many years. It has been on my list as one of those "I'd like to do but not really" items. Each year as the organizers start promoting the entry "lottery" I would say "Never. Not Ever. Would I do this."
Until last year.
After one of my "not ever, hell no, not ever" rants on facebook, a dear friend tempted me by telling me that I "could" and I "should" do this. She knows me, she knew that a little push would tip the scale. She was right. So I put my name in for the infamous "Alcatraz" lottery, if nothing else to accept her challenge.
In the back of my mind, I knew beyond any reasonable doubt that I would not get in. There are only 2,000 athletes allowed to race. Many have earned a spot by qualifying in other races. So how many spots are left for the random drawing is unknown. What I did know is that my chances of getting one of the coveted spots were slim to none. I also knew that at least I could claim that "I tried" but it just wasn't meant to be. Oh, well!
It was October 22, 2018. It was 11:33 AM when the email came in. The email came from IMG Worldwide and the first line of the email read "Congratulations!" My heart sunk and my stomach ached. The chills traveled up and down my spine. My face went pale and my smile go big. No, it got huge.
I was in. I had been picked to race "Alcatraz". And this was on the first round of selection. There are two rounds. Why, I'm not sure. I think that so many lottery picks go unclaimed that they do a second round to give more people a shot.
First call I made was to my daughter. She's usually my partner in crime as it relates to
"All Thing Crazy". She was silent for a moment. A very long moment. I can just imagine her thoughts. My only one was "how are we going to tell mom, and what is she going to say?"
I didn't waste any time and I claimed my spot. Never thought about it twice. There was no going back, there was no backing down, there was no ignoring the obvious. I was going to race "Alcatraz". My second message that day was to my friend, the one that is responsible for me doing this. Then I messaged two other close friends. I'm not sure if they thought I had gone completely bananas or if they were happy for me. I know them and they know me. I think it was a bit of both.
After a couple of days, reality set in, and it was time to write a plan. Not so much a plan to swim, bike, run, but a plan to address the swim. I called another friend, more an acquaintance at the time, but she's, not only my kick-ass swim coach, but now she's also my friend.
I told her I needed help. I told her what I had done. She agreed to see what she could do with me, or for me, without any promises nor commitment, she agreed to take a look to see where I was and what I needed to do to get better. After she watched me swim one lap of the pool, she said she could help me, but asked just one thing. She wanted to know if I was willing to make swimming my No.1 priority for at least six weeks. That meant I had to commit to get in the pool at least 5 times per week, 6 would be better, she told me. I agreed. She said that I could bike and run, but if something needed to give, it would not, it could not be the swim. I agreed again.
And here we are today. Less than a week from race day. The road has been long, but the progress has been huge. I raced Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga two weeks ago, and by any and all accounts it was my best swim ever. Not fair to say that it was my fastest time because the course was cut short and the river's current was strong. It was my best swim ever because I have never, ever, felt this comfortable in the water. I never broke stroke, I sighted better than ever, and I swam straighter that I had ever done. This was huge. A confidence builder. Alcatraz would be next. I felt ready.
The anticipation is now building with each passing moment. The excitement is also getting strong. And, as usual but bigger than ever, the nerves are ramped up.
My plan for the race is just to "Keep it Simple". Leading up to race day, I will not worry about things I cannot control, be it the infamous swim, the crazy bike or the monster run. The course is laid out, I cannot change that. The weather will happen regardless. Prepare for the worst, expect the best and race what's given me.
At 7:30 am, I will plunge from the San Francisco Belle into the ice cold waters adjacent to Alcatraz Island. All 2,000 of us will take to the water in less that 8 minutes, 5 is more like it, for the 1.5 mile swim to Marina Green.
After a successful transition, I will tackle the 18 mile bike course. It has been said the this course has 5 miles of inclines, 5 miles of descends and 8 miles of rollers. You're either climbing at 3-5 mph, or you're descending at 40 mph. There are no flat roads in San Francisco. Although I'm not afraid of hills for I train on some pretty hilly terrain, this course has to be navigated with good care and extreme caution. I don't want to be taken out by being overzealous and I don't want to use 'all' my legs, leaving nothing for the 8 mile run.
And the run. It covers any and all kinds of surface imaginable; asphalt, gravel, trail, sand and stairs. Huge stairs. Sand stairs with over 400 steps. I must save my legs. This shall be may mantra for the day.
I will then finish strong. I will finish with the same attitude I started. A huge smile on my face will tell you that yes, I tackled and I conquered, and more importantly, "I Escaped" Alcatraz.
