My Second Tri

By April Capil

To say I had found myself in unfamiliar waters was an understatement. I was getting smacked down by two-foot swells in a lake. A lake. There aren't supposed to be swells in lakes!

It was only my second triathlon, and already I was wondering if I was really cut out for this level of athleticism.

It was less than a year ago that a coworker had mentioned that she was training for an Ironman.

"An Ironman? Isn't that like, a mile swim followed by a marathon?"

"Actually, it's 2.2 miles, then a 112-mile bike, then a marathon - 26.2 miles."

I was training for my first marathon at the time and, as impressed as I was with myself for running 10 miles the previous weekend, the thought of doing them after a swim and a bike ride was inconceivable. She shrugged at my dropped jaw.

"Triathlons are not that hard. You could do one. If you can workout for two hours, you can do a triathlon."

"I can't swim."

"Swim breastroke."

"But.."

"Come on, anyone can swim breastroke."

Persistence, I would learn, is a requirement for endurance athletes. For every excuse I had, Nicole had a solution. The next day she brought me a registration form for a local triathlon, only six weeks away. A 700-yard swim, followed by a 19-mile bike, then a 4-mile run.

Much to my own amazement, I sent it in, and six weeks later, I finished my first triathlon! I couldn't believe it. Filled with pride, I set another goal - the Napa Tri, the following May.

And here I was, drowning in Lake Berryessa!

I went into my second triathlon thinking it would be just like the first, only longer. I had been working out, I had been in the pool a couple of times. I did one; I could do another one.

It was just like riding a bike, right? Wrong.

I totally underestimated the training I'd need to complete the swim. 700 yards in a shallow pond is nothing compared to 1200 yards in a choppy lake.

100 yards in, I had swallowed at least a pint of water, stopped to catch my breath two or three times, and totally given up on maintaining any kind of stroke rhythm.

At this point, I was just trying to stay alive. In a bike, you can stop and get off. In a run, you can walk or sit down. But in a swim, you stop swimming and you drown.

I looked to the rescue kayaks, about 25 yards away. The first buoy was about 100 yards away. My heart was beating a mile a minute; every time I raised my arm to swim, I got smacked by another swell.

I was taking a beating and all I could think was, "God, get me through this! Don't let me drown in this lake!" Struggling to get my bearings, I decided to stop swimming and tread water until I could refocus.

I concentrated on my breathing, stopped fighting the swells and took my mind off the clock. "This is only 1200 yards," I told myself, "I can do this!"

I made up my mind to concentrate on one thing: if I could get to that first buoy, I'd be okay. I started paddling again, and the more I swam, the closer I got.

As I neared the buoy, I started to feel less scared. When I finally touched it, I looked around and realized there were two other people hanging on to it. I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud. "I must have been crazy to think I could do this!"

The other athletes laughed with me and shook their heads. I laughed again, took a deep breath, and saw another swimmer, paddling toward the buoy. She stopped to catch her breath and we found ourselves looking at the three remaining buoys on the course. I smiled at my companions.

"So.you think we can make it to that next buoy?"

One guy shrugged, bobbing in the water.
"It's worth a shot, right?"

We took off together for the second buoy.

Four buoys and several mouthfuls of water later, I had finally gotten the rhythm of the swells - climbing up over the crests, riding them down, breathing shallowly but evenly. A hundred yards after letting go of the fourth buoy, I could feel pebbles under my feet. A minute later, I was walking up the boat ramp in disbelief.

One of the other swimmers looked at me, shaking her head.
"What's your name?"

"April."

"April, I'm Christine. We did it!"

She gave me a high five and we headed up toward our bikes.

Course photographers took my picture halfway through the bike ride, and in it, I'm grinning from ear to ear. When people say I look like I'm actually having a good time, I laugh because an hour earlier I was ready to call it quits.

Where would I be, I wonder, had I packed it in after those first few strokes?

The keys to any challenge, I've discovered, are persistence and faith - knowing that you really do have a power within you that you can draw upon when you need it, and if you just hang in there and take things one step at a time, you can do anything!

Most of us go through life never realizing the things we are capable of. I always thought, "I am not one of those people who can do that," imagining that certain things (like finishing a triathlon) are beyond my reach.

From the moment my feet hit that boat ramp, my life was different. Now, when faced with something that is daunting, I remember what it felt like when I touched that first buoy, and I realize nothing is so far away that I cannot reach it, little by little, with persistence and faith.