Yoda was right...
There is a scene in one of the early Star Wars movies (back when they were good!) when Luke tells his mentor Yoda that he will “try” to accomplish some task set before him (save the universe?). Anyway, in his infinite wisdom, Yoda responds, “Do or do not…there is no try.”
This triathlon endeavor revealed for me exactly what he meant…once I was in the water, it was time to do what I had set out to do…if something had prohibited me along the way I could say in retrospect that I had tried, but in the moment, I could only choose to sink or swim (literally), pedal or coast – in the moment it is indeed do or do not. It is the choice of action, and what a lot of action it was!
Let me start by saying that I underestimated the distance from my parent’s home in Sacramento to the race course at Rancho Seco. Somehow I remembered a 45 minute drive only being about 20 minutes and in the bustle of everything else, this minor item was overlooked!
We arrived with just enough time to find a remaining spot on the rails to hang my bike, with help from friends (Thank you Ouida & Bobby!!!) and lay out a towel with my socks, shoes, sunglasses, etc. Again, I have to admit, I hadn’t really thought this part through! I could see by the set-ups around me, that veteran triathletes have developed smooth systems for this thing called “transitioning” – moving from sport to sport…
Anyway, with not five minutes to spare, I was registered, given my white cap to mark my age group (29 and under) and standing thigh deep in the lake surrounded by a mass of women looking out at some very far away buoys which I was to keep on my right hand side as I swam the half circle out and back to land.
“Go!” “But what about the woman with long legs kicking right in front of me?!” That must have been my last cohesive thought. Then it was all legs, arms, water swooshing here and there. It is hard enough to walk in a crowd, what is this notion of dog-pile swimming?! I am joking, but really, I forgot how to swim. I was swallowing the water kicked up around me and all the tips about swimming form and pace went out the window. I was in survival mode! That’s the funny part – all my weeks of training could have been for naught if I had listened to the thoughts in my head that screamed: “I don’t know what to do! I can’t do this!” Without a pace to my stroke, nor a notion of how far I really had to go in this aquatic huddle, I began to panic. It took more mental strength to get through the swim than physical, but I just kept telling myself, “You can do this, you are strong enough, calm down and take it one stroke at a time.” I relaxed some and just kept going, breathing nearly every stroke (bad swimmer!). The pack thinned, I calmed down more and found strength, and before I knew it I was on the last leg headed to dry land.
I could have kissed the ground, but there is no time for that in a triathlon! I felt like a character in an old silent movie set in fast forward – I ran from the water, threw my cap and goggles at my mom, not knowing what else I was supposed to do with them, found my bike, and in a flurry managed to get my socks and shoes on. I was so dazed I forgot not only to pin my number to my shirt, but how to unhook my bike helmet! The whole thing was so funny, I kept laughing. With encouragement from my family and friends at the sidelines, I managed it all, jumped on my bike and was off.
The ride was beautiful – 8 miles out and back through dry California grass land, which was, thankfully, only mildly hilly. I paced myself, but kept a strong steady spin. All the other women were so great and supportive, yelling to me and each other, “Looking good. Keep it up.” When we had registered, our age was penned on the back of our right calf, along with our race number on both arms and thighs. I was amazed and inspired to watch tightly crouched women chiseled with strength, muscle smoothly past me and then read the numbers, “38, 47 or 52” on the back of their legs. Wow.
Besides the Harleys that honked as they passed, the bike was uneventful, and my only concerns were hydrating and pacing myself. Coming in again though, I wasn’t sure where my bike rack was, nor where to begin running once I parked it! Note to self, need to prepare for this transitioning thing! But, I was excited to be more than half way finished and onto the sport that comes most naturally to me – running. The path was hot and very dry, but because I run three miles regularly, I knew I could do it running strong. It was a bit hilly, but San Francisco is good preparation for any hills! I took it easy on the way out and gradually increased my speed for the last mile and a half in. I was so determined, tired and focused as I sprinted toward the finish line, I didn’t even hear my family and friends! That made for some good laughs later…but I did it. I finished.
I was exhausted and thrilled. It was such a life experience to which I can compare challenges that come my way. There might be some moments when I feel as though I’m drowning, but I can talk myself through, bring it back to the basics, keep my focus, laugh and know that dry land is within reach. I really realized how much believing you can do something impacts your ability to do it. And it was critical to know that people I loved were there for me too…and that all those people who have supported me through this were there in spirit.
Thanks to everyone for helping me to do this! I will definitely do another in the spring when the season opens. And I will carry all the memories and lessons learned into my work ~ the strength of believing, conviction, commitment, and perhaps most important, having a sense of humor!
-Maria Porter, YPW Deputy Director
Back to top
