Epic.

It was the one-two punch that did this, I think:  the emotional wreckage of the epic disaster that was the Mooseman Half Ironman, followed by the failed carnage from a Century ride that I bailed on because my heart wasn't in it. 

I've barely been back on the bike since, and did one swim where I continued to have a panic attack.  In the water.  By myself.  Not in a race.  Not good.

So, despite it simply being a sprint race, my nervousness and anxiety levels for the Boston Triathlon were absolutely through the roof.  Standing on the shore of the harbor, sand between my toes, it was the same, tired scene.  Wetsuit and swim cap-clad, hoping my goggles wouldn't fog, feeling a deep, rotting, swelling knot of fear and uncertainty in my stomach. 

*horn blare*

Go.

My swim wave tore down the beach and into the water, legs and limbs flying and water splashing everywhere.  However, I walked, and as a result, was the last athlete in the water.  My goal for this race was plain and simple: don't panic in the water and embrace the bike.  I stayed very, very calm and told myself just to reeeelaxxxx.  I slowly started swimming, all other women in my wave already well ahead of me.  The harbor was calm, I focused on keeping my breathing steady and collected and found a rhythm.  Then I started working on putting my face in the water.  I remained calm which started to get me excited because this was going so well, but I refused to let myself feel anything except for whatever that unknown wave of calm was that I had found and latched on for dear life.  When I reached the beach, I stood up in the water and looked around for a moment.  I started dead last in my swim wave and finished the swim in the dead center.  I did the half mile swim in a little over 16 minutes which was a new swimming PR.  Finally something went well!

I jogged up the beach, mentally preparing myself to get on the bike and to embrace it as best I could.  My transition was slow due to losing track of where my bike was racked but I suppose worse things have happened.  I gingerly clipped into my pedals and was off.  After sipping on a bit of NUUN, something in me snapped and suddenly my bike odometer read 23mph.  I was strong and I was fast and I was sweating and breathing hard.  I biked the 10 miles at an average of 18.7mph (which includes slowing down to cruise around a few hairpin turns) and finished in the top 200 for the bike and I actually had fun doing it! 

Once back to transition, I threw on my running sneakers, grabbed my handheld water bottle and was off on the run.  I felt slow, but ran the 4 miler in a little over 30 minutes at a solid 7:51min/mile pace.  It certainly was not my best run, but considering the successes that were the swim and the bike, I was happy.  Then there was the finish!

Once reunited, I blinked when I saw the results on the big screen - I earned 5th place in my age group!

The rest of the day was spent being ridiculously indulgent and laughing with friends.  It was just a sprint, but I feel almost relieved knowing that I can still have good races.  Ironman may not happen this year, but I am feeling a little less lost.  My twenty-first marathon is coming up fast and furious in 4 weeks and I'm tremendously under prepared.  I'm hoping that the Rev3 Half Ironman in 14 days will maintain this nice theme of racing and running being a little kinder to my soul.