Triathlon empowers Daily Herald reporter

I did it!

After four months of training, it came down to about two hours, probably the most exhilarating and challenging two hours of my life.

I arrived at Centennial Beach around 6 a.m. on Sunday for the Naperville leg of the U.S. Women's Triathlon Series. A few rain showers delayed the event's start by an hour, though that didn't bother me much.

In fact, it wasn't until about 10 seconds before the horn blew for my group to start the half-mile swim -- around 9:40 a.m. -- that my heart began pounding.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and said a quick prayer. And then I dove in.

At first, it was a chaotic mess of legs and arms. A swimmer accidentally hit my goggles, causing water to rush in. But the group eventually spread out, I got into a rhythm and I was able to use the divider lines as a marking guide. The first few pool lengths flew by, no doubt fueled by adrenaline. I never got too out of breath; alternating strokes, as I had done in the pool, really helped. I finished around the middle of my wave, doing better and enjoying it more than I thought.

The next portion, the 14-mile bike ride, gave me a chance to calm down. Spectators lined the roads to cheer us on, which was a huge rush. When I saw a few bikers with mechanical problems, I prayed my bike would stay intact. It did. I remember switching gears a lot, so thankful for taking the time to practice with them.

But I was tired by the time the ride was over, and I knew the run wouldn't be easy. Though I've done three 5K races over the past few months with minimal to no walking, I knew immediately this would be different. My thighs were burning from the ride, and as soon as I hit the pavement, they felt like lead.

Immediately, I got stomach cramps and slowed to a walk. I had to do a mix of walking and running for the first two miles, before forcing myself to run to the end, despite the pain. By then, I was so exhausted, I couldn't even speed up to cross the finish line.

When it was done, relief poured over me. A woman gave me a finisher's medal, but all I could think about was how hard it was to just breathe.

But I was done! As I finished my Gatorade and banana, it started to sink in. And then relief gave way to pride.

Four months ago, I decided to tackle an event that seemed near-impossible for me. I wasn't aiming for a stellar time; I simply hoped to finish. (I won't find out my final time for a few days.)

And despite the challenges along the way -- injury and all -- I accomplished that goal on Sunday. No event in my life has ever left me feeling so physically and mentally drained, or so strong, so empowered and so absolutely proud of myself.

So I guess that leaves just one question: What's next?