Triathlon triumph

Back in February, I set what seemed to be a miracle goal of completing a triathlon.

After all, it had been at least a decade since I last rode a bike outside or swam, and I had never before run more than a mile without having to stop.

But after writing about a Naperville sprint triathlon, which is now part of the U.S. Women's Triathlon Series, I became determined to do the event at some point in my life - if for no other reason than to prove that I could.

Even then, I knew I wasn't going to be the fastest or most competitive athlete. I was never going to be a natural, the kind of person for whom working out comes easily.

I was even resistant to the idea that I'd actually enjoy doing a physical activity other than, well, eating. And to the idea that doing this would change me in some bigger way or mean much more than checking off a box on my life to-do list.

I was wrong. Not about being the fastest - and I have the 1-hour, 50-minute finish time to prove that, thanks very much. But about the rest. There's no doubt in my mind this triathlon has changed me.

My goal was to finish, and I did. I'd hoped to finish in under two hours, and I did that, too. I didn't want to be last, and I wasn't. (In fact, more than 600 women out of almost 2,000 finished after me.)

Beyond that, I learned a heck of a lot - about health and nutrition, my body and what it's capable of, and facing my anxieties and doubts. Here's some of what I learned in the last four months:

About the training process:

My 16 weeks of training definitely had its highs and lows. First, the good: I don't regret spending the money on a personal gym trainer, because he taught me a ton of new exercises I know I'll do forever. And strength training really did become an integral part of my workouts. That said, I'd be quite content if I never did a squat or lunge again.

In terms of preparation, I'm so glad I practiced my bike gears and attended beginner's clinics. I'm also thankful I did a few 5Ks, as having the race experience was invaluable.

What really helped me get through training was approaching the process with a "baby steps" mentality. As in, "I can't do 3.1 miles, but I can do a half-mile, which is good enough for today. Tomorrow, I'll add another tenth-of-a-mile."

Now, the what-I-could-have-done-differently: More bike-to-run workouts, for sure. The run was my weakest spot on race day, and I spent most of it alternating between hating myself for doing this and looking to see if an ambulance was around in case I collapsed. I also have some regrets on not focusing more on speed during training, even though it wasn't my main goal. Lessons learned for next time.

About eating healthy:

I learned that eating well and working out go together like Oreos and milk or peanut butter and jelly. Each makes the other better. And doing both isn't something that can just stop once training is over. I really hope to maintain my current weight and fitness level even after the triathlon, so this has to be an entire lifestyle change. With some pizza and ice cream thrown in every now and then.

About control:

I can control some things, like practicing bike gears and drinking lots of water. But there's a lot I can't control, like the rain that delayed the event by an hour or the race route or the actions of the other competitors. I can be hard on myself for not running the full 5K, or I can accept that because of the cramps I got immediately when the run started, I did the best I could, and that's plenty good enough. At least for a first time.

About living in the now:

I'm a worrier by nature. My mind often is filled with pointless, unproductive thoughts that cause unnecessary anxiety and stress. But during the triathlon, I wasn't thinking about the catastrophe that may happen at work or the rude comment someone made a year ago. I was thinking about how I was breathing, how badly I wanted water, how I was riding faster than cars were moving, even how cool it was for volunteers to get up at 6 a.m. on a Sunday to cheer us on.

Working out forces me to focus on the now. Mentally, I slow down to notice things like the birds chirping, the breeze rustling the trees and the way my body feels at that exact second. Often, I think about how grateful I am for all that's good in my life.

About challenges and obstacles:

I learned frustration can be the best motivation. At times during training, I'd get upset because I couldn't see my friends and family as much as I wanted. I often struggled to find a balance between that and working out, and I resented that I couldn't just go out and drink a few beers whenever I wanted.

But I used that frustration to fuel workouts. If I was going to miss big parties or festivals, at least it would be for a darn good reason. I'd make it worth it. I learned to accept that at least for a little while, my priorities had changed.

I also felt frustrated toward the end of training; I was burned out and ready for this to be over. Hard as it was, I tried to put those feelings into perspective - and see them as part of the overall experience. After all, who has ever loved every minute of training?

My injury, of course, probably was my biggest challenge. Straining a thigh muscle showed me that despite having a plan, life happens. It taught me a key lesson in flexibility and adjustment. Overall, I also learned fear and failure are a big part of success. I have no doubt these obstacles helped make the reward mean so much more.

About having fun:

Working out can be fun even when there's no music to listen to or gossip magazines to read. Who'd have guessed? I felt euphoric after many workouts. Simply put, knowing I was doing something good for my body brought me happiness and fulfillment. And it became super addictive, to the point where I'd feel lazy if I missed a session.

Strangely enough, I learned there's something exhilarating about dripping sweat, struggling to catch your breath and feeling like your legs are on fire.

About having support:

Though I trained for this event by myself, I never really felt like I was alone. Whether it was encouragement from friends or family, or the readers of my column, I knew people were rooting for me.

On race day, this was even more visible. Triathletes and the event volunteers are a special breed, for sure. I know I finished partly because of the spectators, from the two teenage girls doing cheers along the bike route, to the older couple in lawn chairs warning of an upcoming turn. The competitors themselves never hesitated to yell, "You're doing great!" just when I needed it.

Mostly, I'm thankful for the friends and family who came to see me on race day. Their presence was priceless, even though I'm positive a few had no idea exactly what I was doing out there.

About being competitive:

Sounds funny, but as an overachiever, I'm not used to not being among the best at something I try. Or, if I discover I'm bad at it, I usually just stop doing it. Athletics has always been a weaker area for me. But doing this race taught me I do have a competitive streak in sports after all, and that I care enough about continuing to work hard at it, even though I didn't come close to being the best.

At this point, I'm not sure exactly what event I'll do next, but I know with certainty I'm not done with racing.

I still have other goals, like doing a triathlon in which I run the entire portion, finishing in the top half of participants, finishing in a better time. I know I can do better. So I will. As a writer, I'm constantly searching, questioning, learning, trying to do whatever it is - collect information, get the interview, write the story - better. As an athlete, I'm on that same journey.

About setting goals:

The best part about this triathlon is the confidence that has come from feeling I can achieve whatever I set my mind to. Within reason, of course.

I can safely say completing an Ironman triathlon - a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike and a 26.2-mile run, is not going to happen in my lifetime. But I could see attempting an Olympic distance: a 1-mile swim, 24-mile bike and 6.2-mile run. I wouldn't even rule out doing a half-Ironman: a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike and 13.1-mile run.

Before this, I often was scared of change, of trying new things, of fearing I'd fail or let people down. I know some of that has gone away.

For me, this was never about being the best or the fastest or the most dedicated. It was actually about much more. Setting a goal and making a plan to reach it. Facing insecurity and doubt. Pushing and challenging myself. Overcoming the lows and relishing the highs. Going way, way beyond what I thought was possible for me.

No matter the outcome, there's something inherently beautiful about that.