Sh#*! Happens

“In reality shit happens in every race”

                                                       Jaime Dispenza, Laughing Dog Tri Coach

There was very little room in the pool area so all of the assembling for the pool

portion of the sprint triathlon was done in the parking lot. I was doing my first

pool swim race in over a month. I was led from the parking lot into the pool area

with 11 other racers. We were told to pair up and that once our lane was clear

we could jump in and practice. Skip, a friend of mine, and I paired up and bided

our time as we waited for our lane to clear. One swimmer out, one continued on.

The minute hand clicked closer to our heat and still our lane did not clear. Skip

and I nervously chatted and kept an eye on the swimmer in our lane – now the

only swimmer left in the pool. Finally, with less than a minute left until our heat

began the swimmer struggled out of our lane. Skip and I quickly jumped into the

pool. For a second everything felt fine and then a feeling of alarm came over me.

My trisuit top was too big!

When Jaime and his wife Heather moved to Bend Jaime was kind enough to loan

me a Laughing Dog Tri singlet to wear when I raced. At that time I was quite a

bit heavier and so the singlet fit pretty tightly around my middle. I wore the

singlet under my wetsuit in a couple of races and it did just fine. However, I

hadn’t really taken the time to assess how the singlet would handle in a pool

setting. When I jumped into the pool I discover just how much weight and girth I

had lost in the last couple of months. My once snug singlet was now very loose

in the water. I could feel the fabric floating around my body and I panicked. I

needed to get the singlet off otherwise I’d be wearing something that would slow

down my swim. However, before I could begin to remove the singlet my heat

began. I swam the race wearing a nice drag singlet that felt like I was pulling a

parachute down the lane.

The first hundred yards of the race I went through several emotions. I was

panicked about having the singlet on, then I was pissed at myself for not

swimming in the singlet in the pool prior to the race, and then I was depressed

because I knew that this would slow my overall race time. After that first 100 I

finally got myself settled down and swam a decent, though slow 400. I emerged

from the pool and told myself, “well that portion of the race is done, you’ve got

two more races to finish, let’s go!” I went out and finished the rest of the rest. My

swim time sucked but on the bike and run portions I had personal bests. I didn’t

podium, but I wasn’t last, and in the end I got a burrito, a beer, and a teenage girl

said I looked cute in ‘my doggie top’ – what couldn’t be better?

When I ran through the race with Jaime he made the comment about shit

happening in every race. As I thought about it, he was right. I’m not sure that

anyone can say they’ve run an absolutely perfect race. Maybe a piece of

clothing didn’t go on right. Maybe a piece of equipment failed. Maybe there was

a delay in coming out of the transition area. Maybe a wrong turn was made.

Maybe an unexpected cramp occurred. At the end of the race I chatted with a

couple of friends who participated in the race and each had experienced their

‘shit happens’ moment. Neal related that he came out of pool and tried to put his

singlet top on but couldn’t get it unbunched over his chest so he rode the entire

portion of the race looking like he was wearing a bikini top, albeit one exposing

his nipples. John chuckled as he described how he fell on his bike as he came

into the transition area when it went from asphalt to grass. Aaron described

taking a wrong turn in the park and running toward the finish line with a volunteer

quick on his heels yelling at him to turn around. We all had our shit happens

moments during the race.

I realized after talking to Jaime that the trick in all of this is to determine how

you’re going to respond when your ‘shit happens’ moment occurs. I could have

easily just ‘mailed in’ the race after my swimming debacle. Instead I told myself

that what was done was done. It had happened, there was nothing I could do

about it, and I needed to move forward, and finish the two portions of the race I

had left. I ended up having a pretty good race and it was fun to laugh with

friends afterwards about our mistakes, pitfalls, and pratfalls. After that race

Jaime loaned me a one-piece trisuit for my next race. I made sure I wore it for

one of my practice sessions. I jumped in the water and swam a couple of laps. It

fit like a glove. I knew I’d have another ‘shit happens’ moment in my next race,

but at least this time when I swam I wouldn’t feel like I was wearing a parachute

in a wind tunnel.

The next race I did great on the swim. However I missed a turn on my bike when

a volunteer wasn’t paying attention and I blew through a roundabout. As I turned

around and got myself back on the course I smiled and thought to myself, shit

happens in every race.