Runner. Triathlete. Exercise Science Student/Advocate. Former Fat Kid.
I’ve been holding off on registering for the Philadelphia Marathon because of money, but the deadline for personalized race bibs was yesterday.
So I signed up! 3rd year in a row! I’ll be reluctant to spend any money between now and Friday, but it’s totally worth it for spectators to read your bib and cheer for you by name! Those final miles are so much easier that way!
Half Iron triathlons consist of a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and a 13.1 mile run. This was my second attempt at the distance, with the first one being almost exactly 2 months prior (you can read about that one here).
Fair warning: This recap’s a long one!
Like for any big race, I was up 3-4 hours prior to the race start in order to eat breakfast. This meant a 3:30 alarm. Ughhh (I will not miss those). I hopped up, made and inhaled my breakfast, showered, packed my tri bag (AT LEAST I THOUGHT I DID!), and threw the rest of my stuff into my bags so I could checkout of the hotel. The girls I went to the race with said I could leave some bags in their room so I could take a shower afterwards, so that put me into a different mindset, trying to figure out what to leave in the hotel and what to put in my car. I had 1 hour to do all of this. It was entirely too much to do.
I hit the road and got to the race venue fairly early. Transition wasn’t open yet so I decided to get my bike looked at by the bike mechanics setup outside of transition. They reassured me that I was good to go, after taking it for a ride, and wished me luck. By that time transition had opened so I made my way up there to get everything ready. I racked my bike, unpacked my bag, and started to lay everything into the proper areas on my transition mat. I got everything organized and felt like something was missing. I started to go through everything I needed and looked at my wrist… I FORGOT MY GARMIN AT THE HOTEL!!! At this point I started to freak out. How am I supposed to cover 70.3 miles without the watch?? I ran back to my car, thinking maybe it was there, to no avail. It was still sitting on the arm of the chair where “flat Chris” laid the night prior. I called the hotel and asked if they could retrieve it, but I knew there wasn’t enough time to get it and make the swim start, so I changed my race plan. There was nothing I could do, it’s race day, shit happens. It’s go time.