I Did It!!!!!!

I am a triathlete.

I swam 500 meters, then bicycled 10 miles, then ran 3.1 miles.

Here's how it went down, blow by blow.

Friday night, I went out to Garozzo's with Jami and Lori and enjoyed all the pasta and bread I wanted. Then I went home, went to bed by 8:30 and fell asleep by 9 p.m. I was determined that I would still get a good night's sleep, even if I was getting up at 4:30 a.m.

I slept fairly well, but I woke up in the early morning hours and thought "I've got to get back to sleep - I need all the sleep I can get." I was awake enough to remember that it was the day of my triathlon, though, so I was too excited to drop back into REM. Luckily, my alarm went off five minutes later. It might be the first time I've ever been glad to hear the alarm go off.

I got out all three of my triathlon books and laid them open to the packing checklists. I got everything they told me to put into my bag, and cross-referenced all three books.

My nerves were so on edge, I would occasionally just squeal as I packed.

I tried to pump my bike tires up, but succeeded only in letting the air out of my front tire. I decided not to panic, because I knew the people from Epic Bike would be there.

Jami arrived promptly at 5:15 a.m., and we loaded our gear and bikes into (and onto) my car. Right on time, we set off at 5:30 a.m.

We noted that the weather was a little chilly in the early morning hours, which supported the exciting forecast of pleasant weather for the day. Considering that last weekend was unbearably hot, this was great news.

Unfortunately for Jami, I continued to let the occasional squeal of anxiety. Fortunately for me, she was very reassuring.

We watched the sun come up as we drove up 169, through Smithville and to the race site. We were early enough to get a great parking spot - Jami said she'd had to ride her bike in from some far-flung spot last year.

We stopped at the bike tent, and I told the lady I had flattened my tire. I realized I could have chosen my words better when she went into her van, rooted around for a minute and emerged with a new inner tube. I explained that I had in fact just let the air out of my tire because I haven't gotten the hang of my bike pump. She reassured me that this was common as she inflated my tires to a nice, firm pressure.

Next stop, body marking. The volunteer marked "389" on my arms, my hands and my legs with a black permanent marker. It made the whole thing seem more real, and I had to suppress another squeal.

Then we went into the transition area to rack our bikes and set up our gear on the ground next to our bikes. I saw lots of women from the Tri 101 training clinic I've been attending on Monday nights, and the friendly faces were such a welcome sight as my nerves started working themselves up to a pitch.

Then it was time to get down to my swim suit and don the official yellow swim cap. As I gathered with my friends at the pre-race meeting, my stomach was knotting and I was convinced that I had gotten myself in over my head. All these women around me were going to leave me in their dust and I'd be out on the course in a heap somewhere, unable to finish.

My friends could tell I was starting to freak myself out and tried to calm me.

They put us in numerical order in preparation for the swim. The line of 391 women of all shapes and sizes, all in yellow swim caps, snaked up from the water's edge, with the fast swimmers at the head of the line, the slower swimmers toward the middle, and those of us who had no earthly idea how fast we would be toward the back.

I started chatting with the women around me in line. The chatter got me through to the front of the line, and before I had time to get worked up again, I was pulling my goggles on and getting a friendly push across the chip reader and toward the water.

I slogged forward into the water, with the lake mud slippery enough under my feet that I decided to go ahead and start swimming to avoid falling into the water.

As recommended, I stayed to the outside of the pack, and I found that if I kept other swimmers' yellow swim caps in my sight as I came up to breathe on my right, I could stay on course fairly well.

I alternated between the freestyle and the back strokes, and I reminded myself to relax. It helped to take an honest assessment of how I was feeling and to realize that I was not over-exerting or gasping for breath. I just needed to be calm and keep going. As I rounded the first corner of the U-shaped course, I saw one of the 21 lifeguards sitting there on a kayak, and I thought to myself, "I am allowed to grab on to his boat and rest, but I don't think I need to!"

Whenever I started to get a little out of breath, I would turn over and do the back stroke again. I was following another yellow swim cap when I realized that we were going to miss one of the buoys marking the course, which would mean a penalty. I changed course just in time to back-track and make it around the proper side of the buoy.

In the final stretch back to the shore, I found that I was warmed up enough that I didn't need to do the back stroke. I concentrated on my form and on not swimming over the tops of other women.

As soon as I saw someone stand up, I stood up and started slogging my way toward the shore.

They helped me up over the slippery ridge to the chip reader and I started jogging up the hill to the transition area. My legs felt wobbly, and as I arrived at my bike, I plopped down on my bottom to put on my bike shoes and throw on my shorts and shirt. Possibly one of the slowest transition times anyone had all day, but I needed to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything.

I chugged up to the bike exit of the transition area, where people were shouting encouragement. I mounted my bike and took off, with people yelling "way to go!" and "great job" as I went.

As I rounded onto the main road for the bike course, I saw Judith, then Alex, then Lukas, then Dad, all holding "Go Nicole!" and "Go Auntie Nicole!" signs and yelling for me. I had this big grin on my face that never left me through the entire bike leg. Volunteers would shout "way to smile!" as I passed them on the course.

The course was not nearly as hilly as the Longview Lake course we trained on for Tri 101, so I felt pretty confident the whole way. The sky was overcast, so it was no big deal that I forgot my sunglasses at the transition area, and the course was a lovely, scenic route through the countryside around Smithville Lake.

The road was nice and smooth, except for these regular seams in the road that started to take their toll on my backside and my wrists. It was like, "oh the lovely rolling fields . . . KATHUNK . . . what a nice volunteer encouraging me . . . KATHUNK . . . check me out passing someone . . . KATHUNK . . . this hill is not bad at all . . . KATHUNK."

I came rolling back to the transition area to lots of cheers and encouragement - it was like I had just come in from the Tour de France or something. As I dismounted, I discovered that all the people who said my legs would feel like rubber after the bike were absolutely right.

I wobbled back to my spot, re-racked my bike, changed into my running shoes and slapped my hat on.

Then I was off. Like a turtle. But at least I was running!

As I started up the running path, there was my family again, waving signs and cheering for me. I high-fived them all as I passed.

The path was a lovely, wooded area that had encouraging messages chalked on the asphalt every few hundred feet: "U R GR8" and "Go Mom Go" and "Be strong" and "Dad is still asleep" and my personal favorite, "water station ahead."

Other than finishing, my only goal for the day was to be able to run the whole run. I knew if it came down to it, I could walk, but I wanted to be able to say that I ran the whole thing.

At first, I wondered whether I would be able to run the whole way. But after about a mile, I realized I was warmed up and I knew I would be fine. You might think that after swimming 500 meters and biking 10 miles, I might be warmed up, but I guess you really have to warm up the specific muscles you are using.

The run was definitely harder work than the swim or the bike, and I thought as I ran that I could probably use a new pair of running shoes, because my feet were starting to really feel the impact.

Since the run was an out-and-back route like the bike, I passed lots of my Tri 101 friends who were on their way back as I headed out. It was very encouraging to see their friendly faces along the path, and it was a welcome distraction.

On my way back from the turn-around point, I found that I was passing less and less people who were still on their way out, so I realized that I was definitely near the back of the pack.

The chalk markings on the road served as landmarks, because I knew roughly how far along each one was.

As I neared the end, I could hear the crowd cheering through the trees. I kept chugging ahead.

A volunteer pointed me up the final stretch to the finish line, and the announcer trumpeted my name: "Nicole Kirby from Kansas City, Missouri. Way to go, Nicole Kirby!"

A blonde woman came out of nowhere and started to pass me at the last minute.

I looked up and saw the excited faces of my nephews and I thought, "I don't THINK so, lady," and a reserve of energy from I-don't-know-where allowed me to kick it up and sprint past her to the finish, high-fiving Jami and Lukas and Alex and Dad and Judith on my way across the line.

Afterward, there were lots of hugs and photos and smiles and congratulations. I even won a big door prize - just what I needed: a gift certificate for new running shoes!!

My time hadn't been posted by the time we left, but it was OK, because it was posted online by the afternoon. I didn't do all that well, but really, that doesn't matter. I finished the race and I ran the run. I'll work on my time in the next triathlon.

And yes, there will be a next triathlon.

I'll post pictures as soon as they're available!