On the Sidelines – by Kay Klumpyan
To me the most dreaded part of a triathlon is getting out of my warmrncozy bed in the wee hours of the morning and plummeting in to a cold,rndark body of water. Even though I planned to partake in the San DiegornInternational Triathlon due to a small mishap which involves a pineconernand a sprained ankle I went as spectator to cheer on my friends. As arnspectator you still have to get up at the wee early hour, as yourrnfriends want you they’re with encouraging words, to carry their gear,rnor just to chat with them in line as they nervously wait for an openrnport-o-john. Then they are off racing and the spectator waits.rn
Camthi – Monica – Jeanne rn
Everyonernlooks the same in the water unless you are lucky enough to have arnfriend such as I do with a funky swim stoke and you can identify themrnby that alone. One can also identify the well-seasoned athletes fromrnthe newbie’s by observing the water exit. Those gasping for air orrnstruggling to get their wetsuits off are pinpointed as needing morerntraining verses those that ease out of the water and swiftly transitionrnunto land. After the girls made it to land, my only workout for the dayrnbegan as I attempted to dash over to the bike exit to catch them comingrnout of T1 and start their ride. Now that they are on their bikes, Irnhave time to kill.
Off to claim a spot on the bike route,rneat my muffin and finish my coffee I can leisurely watch the bikersrnpump up the last hill to T2. To my surprise I saw several Las Vegas Trirnsuits buzz by, I would let out a “go Las Vegas” as it is hard tornidentify people by name disguised in their helmets and sunglasses. As arnspectator you never really know how the athlete is doing out there, ifrnthey are having a good race, struggling or just taking a relaxedrnapproach. But, as I wait and anticipate times, Monica comes by with arnbig smile, her first triathlon and by that smile I see that she lovesrnthe race. Jeanne has blood dripping down her leg, I can safely assumernthat she took a spill somewhere along the way, and Camthi has a veryrnfocused look, the concentration is intense.
Time for the last leg asrna spectator, I am off to the finish line in the shuttle bus. Watchingrnthe athletes cross the finish line with mixed looks of both enthusiasmrnand exhaustion always gives me goose bumps. What an accomplishmentrnafter all that training, dedication and sometimes, self-deprivation ofrnall those other things we could be doing or eating if we weren’trntriathletes. I can finally regroup with the girls at the finish line,rnhearing the excitement in their voice as they chatter about their race,rntheir goals, their endless effort and when they wanted to back off. Irnalso had stories to tell as a spectator, all the quirky things you seernwhen the athletes are out conquering the course.
Irnam back on the shuttle bus to T1 and one never realizes how stinky onerngets after racing until you are on a bus full of athletes who just gavern110% and you are one of few that did not break a sweat. My last duty asrnthe only person with energy left is carrying all the excess gear backrnto the hotel as the girls peddle their bikes back. Now for the bestrnpart, beer and burgers, it still tastes great even as a spectator.
Irndedicate this article to all the families and friends that give usrnsupport and are out there cheering us on as we are conquering therncourse and becoming victorious with our goals.rn
