This was the WORST race ever. I would not like to talk about it…which as fate had it, my mother wrote a blog of her own while I was doing the race! Its destiny I tell you! I never wanted to talk about this race again, and she wrote a post for me…its like she can read my mind or something(we have a very special mother daughter bond)! So here it is, a triathlon from a mother’s perspective, or sherpa. Its your choice =]
Enjoy!
Olympic tri. A mothers view.
10 minutes before start. Katrina and I do our pre-race “Shake and Bake!” I hug her, ” good luck. You’ll do awesome.” She says, “remember to count the girls out of the water before me.” I say, “it will be hard to count to ZERO!” She laughs and gets into the the lake. I take pics as she stretches and does a few strokes. Do I want to video the start or start the timer? I decide its more important to get the stopwatch going since I really can’t see her in a group of 50 swimmers. Note to self: bring binoculars. One minute to race . Who else is wearing a wet suit like hers. No one. Like I’ll be able to see her anyways. Still, it’s good to know if someone is drowning I want to be sure I don’t panic if its someone with just wearing the same wetsuit. I hope she’ll be ok. 5,4,3,2,1. The horn goes off. ” Go beast!” Lots of splashing and arms going. Crap, lost her already. 4 minutes. A swimmer is way off course. Hope it’s not her, though she has told me she has gone off track a couple of times. Man, 10 minutes into the race. I see a pack in the front and am confident she is one of them. My baby rocks at the swim. Darn, i have to pee. Is there enough time? of course there is, she said like 20 some minutes for the swim. Ugh, i hate porta potties. Ok, done with that. About half way through the swim now. sweat bees keep landing on my legs. I am all about nature but don’t they know I’m trying to see my daughter ? Note to self: bring bug spray. We are at 19 minutes and I see a few swimmers on the last straight away. Could she be one of them? Wait, men and women started in the same wave. She’s probably in the next group. They are about 50 feet from the swim in. I see the third swimmer bobbing up getting their bearings. Looks like her! The First swimmer out is a woman! Girl power! Next a guy. Now I see Trina! The third swimmer was her! Holy crap! I can’t believe it
“Yea Trina! Awesome swim! Are you ok?” She says “yea”. She looks wiped. ” Do you need to throw up?”, I ask. She says”I wish.” She isn’t a good vomiter. She moans and says “holy s&@#.” I tell her, “triathletes don’t cry!” “Go Trina! Way to run into transition!” She flips me off. A spectator sees her and looks surprised. I say”she is really very sweet.” I love my daughter. I know she really means “I’m #1I”. My enthusiasm isn’t dampened . “Go Trina! way to take off your wet suit! Put on those socks! Alright! Whoo!” She shoots me a look. One of those looks that could kill you dead. I jump up and down and cheer even more. That will teach her. “Way to put your shoes on!” Finally, a smile. She cant be irritated with me for long. I know she loves me.
She was worried about the bike mount. She forgot her tri clips, even though I told her to double and triple check her stuff. She has been at her apartment in dekalb for college so her Sherpa (me) wasn’t there to check her bag. She was worried for nothing and her bike mount was smooth. She takes off and I scream, “Go Beast!” Then wonder, what will I do for an hour and ten minutes? Worry is what I’ll do. It’s hot and humid today. Will she drink enough Gatorade and water? Will she get lost? Or the worst thought a mother could have, will she wipe out or get hit by a car? Ok, I need to stop that. She will be fine. I find a place to sit in the shade and write this blog. Will Katrina think its good enough to post? I hope so. I check the time. It’s been about an hour. So about half an hour until she comes in. Ill find someone’s dog to pet or kids to talk to. Anything is better than thinking.
1:28. She should be coming in shortly.
1:40 Where is she? A sag wagon comes in with an injured rider. Is it her? No, thank goodness.
Waiting…waiting…wait, is that her? Black darthette helmet, black compression leg sleeves..yep. It’s her. “Yeah Trina!” Your doing great!”
I run after her. She is moaning. She ran out of Gatorade and water. There are no refill stations on a 40k course. She looks like she’s going to fall over. Im thinking Come on Trina. Almost done. Just the crappy 6 mile run to do. Please don’t pass out on me. Quit if you need to. Don’t dehydrate on me!! But I don’t say any of that to her. She once ran barefoot on gravel just to finish a race. She doesn’t quit. She will moan and cry, but refuses to have a DNF or even worse, DFL! So I just rub her back and say ,”you can do it.” A guy hands her a bottle of HEED, I hand her a GU and she yells at me to stop helping or she’ll get disqualified. She grabs water from the water station and dumps it on her head. She starts walking. I see her drinking the HEED. She is still walking when I catch my last glimpse of her. Shiitake mushrooms. Will she be ok? The run is her weak area. After 2 years and lots of $, she has finally recovered from shin splints. Her run is improving but this heat is not helping any. It’s 86 but feels like 95. It seems to be taking its toll on many athletes since almost all of them are starting the run with a walk. Katrina planned for a 50-55 minute run. I am crossing my fingers. More waiting and worrying.
To pass the time, I duck out of the heat and sit in the car with the air on. I text mark ( Trina’s daddy) to give an update. He is also concerned about heat exhaustion. Great. Now I worry more. We figured 55 minutes for the run. With about 25 minutes left, I decide to wait at the finish. When I get there, a race participant is filling a kiddie pool with ice and water bottles. There are no volunteers at the finish so I help with the water. Runners start coming in. I hand out water and start taking the race chips off. I guess I am the volunteer. That’s ok because it’s a good distraction. I keep checking the time. I keep cheering for the finishers. She should be coming in now. Did she pass out? We’re they trying to find me while I was in the car? Maybe I should get in the car and try to find her. I see a girl. Hallelujah, it’s her. I am ready for her to cross the finish then pass out. But she is smiling as I cheer, “You did it!” I hand her a water bottle and take the timing chip off of her ankle. She takes off her shoes and peels off her sweaty socks and hands them to me. Yuck! But I am the Sherpa. It’s what I do. Then I ask, “are you jumping in the lake?” Yep.
Copyright Katrina Mascarella and Annelee Mascarella 9/13/13
katrinathebeast 
Aw, I feel like I was there! Best family ever! I wish I had a Sherpa . . .