It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

OK, it was just a dark and quiet morning yesterday when I crept out of the house, placed my rented bike into the back of the truck, and drove over Transmountain to Biggs Air Force Base. I have always enjoyed solitude in the early hours of a day. The Franklin Mountains loomed darkly in front of me as I headed over the pass, and it was still pitch black as I pulled into the parking lot on the sunrise side of the mountain. I had determined a month ago that I wanted to participate in a duathlon sponsored by Ft. Bliss, just to see how I would do. A 15-mile bike ride sandwiched between two 5K runs didn’t seem very intimidating. I had donned my most comfortable running clothes and my perfectly-worn running shoes. I felt relaxed and ready to run, ready to meet some new people.
As I parked I got a pretty good look at the competition. (I place a lot of faith in first impressions.) This was a lean bunch. A very well-outfitted bunch. It became obvious to me that this was an experienced bunch. Friendly, yes. Serious, oh my, yes.
I signed in. I walked around a bit. I took my bike to the transition area. I noticed that everyone looked like they were connected with the military. Lots of GI Joe types. Lots of impressive muscles and tattoos. I reminded myself that I was doing this just to see how well I would do, not to beat anybody else, or even keep up with anybody else. I stayed pretty calm in spite of what I was observing.

We lined up at the start. I found myself next to a friendly, petite blonde named Dee. She asked me what my 5K time was. Ummmm, I’ve never run a 5K….but my 8K time was just less than 58 minutes, and that was down and then back up McKelligan Canyon. Of course I didn’t tell her that, but I did tell her this was my first duathalon and she wished me a sincere good luck. The starter gun was fired. Nothing happened. It was fired again. Nothing happened. Everyone laughed. Third time’s a charm, and off we went. The Elites were gone in a flash. The rest of us, only a handful, knew better than to try and keep up. I wanted to take the first 5K easy and reserve energy for the end, so I wasn’t too disappointed when I came in at about 30 minutes.

Onto the bike and back on the road again, ahead of two of the people who had stayed just ahead of me during the run. Oh, road bikes are smooth! I sailed! I didn’t brake around the corners! I shifted (almost) perfectly every time I needed to! I was grinning and pedaling hard and flying! Within the first 3 miles the two people I had left behind passed me, but that was OK because I wasn’t racing them (and I knew there were at least 6 people still behind me!). I came to the first water station – nah, didn’t need it. I continued, enjoying the early morning sky and the view of the mountains from the desert floor. Mile 9 I missed a turn, but quickly got back on track. Mile 12 I missed another one but just as quickly recovered. I had been reciting scripture mastery loudly and wasn’t paying attention. Mile 13 a man passed me. He looked like he was just cruising. He had magnificent calf muscles. Mile 15 and the transition area is a mile away. So maybe it’s a 16-mile bike route? Or maybe it’s marked for the beginning of the 15th mile? That was the mile I thought it would be a good idea to invest in some bike shorts if there’s a next time around. I arrive at the transition area right behind Mr. Calves. My time is 1:31:? (I only glanced at the clock – I wanted to transition as quickly as possible.) Off with the helmet. Didn’t have to change shoes – I’m not experienced enough to need bike shoes, right?  
Oh my, walking is weird. Mr. Calves says he didn’t expect to get such bad cramps in his calves. He’s limping and having a hard time getting into a run. After a little bit of stretching I start running. This is the part where I will use all my reserves and make up some time. Maybe I’ll catch up with Dee. But my legs are not cooperating. I take some Gatorade as I pass the start/finish line. All the Elites are standing around, relaxed and just waiting for the rest of us to get done so they can get their awards and get on with their day. I ease onto the 5K path. After the first mile I realize I am not going to regain enough of my legs to power through like I want. But I’m still running, and I’m still ahead of everyone I’ve been ahead of all along. I make the turn to come back, and this is when I get to see just who is behind me. Besides Mr. Calves I count 3 women and 4 men, and I know that I’m older than all of them (ha!). The last half mile I am feeling pretty lousy but I make it to the finish line. I think the time is 2:20:whatever. Someone asks me how old I am. I say 48. Oh, wait – I’m 58. I’m handed a laminated card. I look at it and it says, “50-59 – 2nd Place”. I think that’s pretty funny, and I’m also pretty sure that Dee is the one who earned the 1st Place card. The lady who hands it to me looks at me closely and asks me if I’m OK. I tell her sure, just bring me my cane and I’ll be fine (j/k). Then she makes me go give the card to someone at a table, and then I can get my banana and orange. I’m surprised that I feel as spent as I do – similar to when I ran the ½ with Ayrel last year – but the fruit helps immensely and immediately. I walk by a young runner sitting with his father and sister. They congratulate me. I see Mr. Calves crossing the finish and I congratulate him. They start giving out the awards. I look back to see one of the earlier finishers run up to a finishing runner, link her arm, and with encouraging words help her run the last 20 yards full out. Very touching, and yes, of course I cry. They have just announced the 30-39 female winners, and the lady who went out to help her friend had taken 2nd. They get to my age group, and just as I had thought, Dee takes 1st. (She says she had barely turned 50….) After all the awards and pictures she introduces me to GI Joe her husband. She tells me he is Mr. Triathlon/Biathlon/Duathlon/Marathon Man. I say I never would have guessed. She also invites me to participate in the triathlon that they will have in December. I just might do that….think I need to get a swimming coach first. And some bike shorts.
I walk back to get my bike and talk with a strong young man who had been one of the last to finish. I ask if he has ever done a duathlon. He says he hadn’t even planned on doing this one until the day before when his Sergeant Major had asked him if he was going to participate. He realized that the only appropriate answer was, “Yes, Sir!”

Definitely, this was a great way to spend a Saturday morning. My legs were tired for the rest of the day, and even a little bit today, but that’s all. I made at least one new friend. I felt comfortable in a completely different environment for me (I'm pretty sure that there was only one other participant who wasn't active duty or family of active duty military). I was surrounded by people who were capable, confident and caring. I did not encounter egos or exclusion. These are the people who are defending my country and my freedoms, and I have an increased appreciation for those who are willingly putting their lives on the line to do so, and for the sacrifices they and their families are making. Hurray for the USA! May God bless every soldier and every loved one of every soldier.