Lubbock, I kind of hate you.

I knew I was undertrained going in my race in Lubbock, Texas, the Buffalo Springs 70.3 triathlon. I knew it was going to be hot. I even accepted it would likely be windy. And I will admit I may have said something like, “I can probably fake my way through it” in my head. What happened in Lubbock, Texas on June 26, 2011 is something that I kept thinking I was going to wake up from in a cold sweat by safe in my bed.

When I left my car that morning it was 82degrees out and the wind was already blowing. When I returned to my car after the race it was 110degrees and the wind was blowing harder. I’ll spare you the play-by-play, but basically I got destroyed on the bike. Imagine someone in a row boat in the rough ocean while speed boats keep flying by. Well, that is basically how I felt on the bike. The wind pretty much took all the energy and self-respect that I had, threw it out the window, drove over it, then backed up to drive over it again, then spit on it, then vultures ate it. Yea, it went that well! By the time I got to the run, my legs were completely cooked. I won’t say much about the “run,” because I loose a part of my soul every time in think about it. To say the least, “running” the one mile between aid station seemed like a monumental expedition.

But, I finished. I say that not out of satisfaction or any sense of accomplishment. Rather that is the single last thread of dignity that this race let me keep. Fortunately, other people suffered as well; I was amazed to see how many people were getting I.V.’s after the race. It actually kind of looked like the fun/cool thing to do, but seeing some people shaking uncontrollably, I didn’t feel like I was worthy. But considering the speedboats that past my little dingy on the bike and run, there aren’t any excuses to be made.

I would like to say I will never return to Lubbock. But there is a competitive part of me that wants to come back and be the hammer to Lubbock instead of the wood (“The ‘wood’? You mean the ‘nail’?” No, I mean the thing getting a nail slowly driven into it). This was definitely an experience that, despite much effort, I will never forget. My nightmares will never be the same.