This is going to be painful - Keystone Warrior Duathlon Recap

More for me than you, honestly.  As you know, I've been training for several months for the Keystone Warrior Duathlon.  This past Saturday was D-Day (huh, how ironic that the letters work...) for me.  My lovely friend Maryrose drove from NJ to come cheer me on and hubby (like always) was there as well.

When we got up Saturday morning, at the ungodly hour of 4 something in the morning (see, hubby was up at 4:00 a.m., but I wasn't up until 4:45 a.m.), it was raining.  Which was a little nerve wracking, since I didn't know what this would mean for the race itself.  On our way to the race (about an hour north of home), there was thunder and lightening.  This did not bode well. 

We arrived at the park and I got my stuff together from the car.  We walked over to the starting area, which was where packet pick-up from the night before was.  The path there was mud and standing water.  The storm was nasty up there and just messed with everything.  I got to the transition area and put my stuff down.  They did not have specific bike spots based on your bib number, you could put your bike and supplies anywhere you liked.  A nice gentleman who was doing his fourth triathlon helped me figure out what to do with my bike.  Then I headed over to get my tag and get written on.  LOL!  Yes, you have your number on your bib, but they also mark your number on your arm (and apparently, your age on your leg).  I'm not sure why for the du people, but whatever.

After that, we found out that the bike course was being changed.  The storm that blew through at 3:00 a.m. there caused massive flooding and debris on some of the roads designated for the race.  So, race officials pushed back the start from 7:00 a.m. to 7:30 a.m. in order to determine the new bike course.  Which was fine.  I wasn't really that nervous honestly, which surprised me.  I expected to be jumping out of my skin at this point.  But, I was fine. 

About 7:20 a.m. they called everyone together for some last minute instructions, a check presentation and the national anthem.  Oddly enough, there was no mention of how far the bike course would now be.  This would factor into things for me later.  The few duathlon people there went to the run starting line, while the tri people headed towards the water.  The horn went off and so did we.  The first part of the duathlon was a 3 mile run...which was a trail run.  I vaguely remembered this, but didn't think much of it.  Until I got on the course and it was muddy, slippery, and had several deep holes filled with water.  I was not prepared for that.  And then, the hills.  There were several steep hills that I didn't expect.  After running through mud and deep puddles, the hills were killer.  It was not a pleasant 3 miles and I told one of the race volunteers I was not looking forward to running this again at the end.  Little did I know what was to come...

I arrived back at the transition area about 43 minutes after I started.  A slow pace for me, but not my slowest.  Went to get my bike and there were people putting their bikes away and starting on the run portion.  This was totally deflating.  I did not expect that.  Mine was the only bike still there that was there because I hadn't started.  But, I grabbed my bike, headed out of the transition area and started riding.  I followed the people cheering because there wasn't much else for me to follow.  There were no markers and there were no volunteers until I hit the cross-street.  When I arrived at the major turn in the bike portion there was a volunteer and a cop directing those coming back in.  It took a moment for them to realize I was racing and I was just starting.  I finally am allowed through the intersection and head off.

And throughout the rest of my ride, there are no mile markers, no volunteers, no support.  I had no idea where I was going, whether I was on the right path, should I turn somewhere, or had I missed the turn around point.  At some point, a gentleman in a truck drove up next to me to say that when I came to a green cone, that was the turn around point.  It's a little less than a mile ahead.  He lied.  Not only was there no cone a little less than a mile away, there was no turn around point.  I rode a good 2-2.5 miles before hitting the turn around point in the race.  Now, how did I know where to turn around?  Well, because another gentleman in a truck rode up next to me to tell me I had passed the turn around point.  Yes, I missed the turn around point because there was no green cone and no volunteers.  I was left to my own devices as to know where to turn.  So, I check traffic, crossed the street, and headed back.  The gentleman in the truck kept ahead of me, making sure I was still coming, but not close enough for me to flag him down to call it quits. 

So, I rode.  And honestly, the ride back was easier than the ride out.  I guess it's that same feeling when you're going somewhere - it seems to take forever to get where you are going, but the return trips seems much faster.  And so I rode.  And kept riding until the same gentleman in the truck pulled up next to me to say I had missed the turn in point for the park.  The cop and volunteer from earlier when I set out?  They had left.  There was no indication as to where I was to turn to go back to the park.  I know I was the last rider, I know I'm slow, I know I didn't know what I was doing, but shouldn't someone have been waiting to direct the last person in?  Am I not just as important as the person who came in first?  I believe I paid the same amount of money to race that they did. 

At this point I was done.  I literally bowed my head over my handle bars and cried.  I was so stressed out and so upset that I knew I was not finishing this race.  I knew when I got back to the transition area I was taking my timing chip to the finish line and leaving.  This feeling only intensified as I rode my bike back to the transition area.  I was seeing people who finished leaving.  Spectators were clogging up the side of the road making it difficult to ride the bike where I was supposed to ride.  I had nothing left.

I took the bike to my spot, told hubby and Maryrose I was done, and headed off to hand in my timing chip.  All I wanted to do was sit down on the ground and cry.  Not only was I frustrated over what happened on the course, but this was the first time I would have not finished a race.  I have never done that.  I have done 5ks, an 8k, a marathon relay, and a half marathon.  I have finished them all.  But this, something I thought I could do (albeit slowly and in last place) brought me down.  I couldn't do it.  I physically did not have it in me to finish.  Maybe I could have walked the last 3 miles, maybe I could have run/walked it.  Maybe I should have.  But I didn't.  I felt let-down and defeated. 

And in all honesty, I still do.  I feel like I was let down by the race officials who didn't keep people on the course, even though they told me they knew I was out there.  I felt let down by myself for letting the bike portion effect the second run portion.  I feel let down by how badly I am letting this affect me.  I now question my ability to run.  I have a 5k coming up in 2 weeks and I question whether I can run it.  Will I finish?  Will I be able to reach the finish line or will I quit?  I've already paid for it (and the hotel is now booked), so I'll go.  I'll start the race and see what happens, but now there's doubt in my mind about being able to finish.  Others have told me to get back out there and do the duathlon I've been thinking about in July.  Is this a good idea?  I couldn't complete the one I just started, what makes me (or anyone else for that matter) think I can complete one at all?  I get it's the whole get back on the horse that threw you mentality, but what if the horse just really doesn't like me?  What if it really is me and not the horse?  I'm just not sure anymore...