She-Wolf Comes out of Closet

It was a long awaited event. The “She-Wolf” finally gathered up the courage to debut in her first triathlon. Her fear ravaged her in the weeks preceeding the Kokopelli. We didn’t think she had the guts, and maybe, just maybe, telling her such a thing proved motivational for her. She showed up ready to prove that wolves have guts just like goats.

It was a beautiful and peaceful morning when we arrived at Sandhollow Reservoir. The sun had not yet risen, but its glow began to grace the water. There was something magical about to occur, or so we thought. We set up our transition and pulled on our wet suits. We giggled our way down to the water where She-Wolf began to howl, “WE ARE GOING TO WIN!” Of course we both laughed more than we were before, knowing this was far from the truth. But then again, what is the definition of winning when you accomplish something you were so afraid of you didn’t think you possibly could? Winning is fulfilling a dream, an accomplishment, and in this case crossing the finish line alive.

The swim began, and of course the She-Wolf described it as mating season of carp floundering in the water, over crowded and quite slippery. Each buoy smiled upon us as evidence that we were indeed moving forward inspite of the lack of turbulance. Steady and slow we paced until we arrived at the boat ramp excited to see our flip flops were waiting for us. We slipped them on and headed up to the bike transition.

She-Wolf thought bike transition was a place for primping, and I had to remind her that we needed to put down the make up and get going. No, really, she didn’t bring make up, but it sounded good. We crossed the transition mat into the bike portion and began the ride. The first small incline the She-Wolf asked, “Is this the big hill?” Of course she knew it wasn’t, but we both laughed. We made it to the big hill, crossed the cattle guard and climbed without incident. All was well. We made it to the turn around and headed back down the hill.

“Kaboooooooom……….squeak……shoosh…..” was all we heard, and we came to a quick stop. I was afraid it was her tire at first, thinking she would be traumatized for life. Then I realized it was my back tire. I flipped my bike over and changed out the flat, got it aired back up and thought we were ready to go again. That’s when we saw the tube bulging out a pea sized hole in my tire. Not only had my tube exploded, but my tire was shredding. At that point I realized there was nothing else I could do to get my tire fixed. The second tube quickly exploded through the hole in the tire. I looked at She-Wolf and told her she would have to go on without me. Her sad wolf eyes looked as if they would cry at any moment. “You can do it. Go ahead, and I will meet you at the run portion.” Off she went down the hill, and I knew her self motivation would pick up in honor of the “idea” we had for this day all the while hating the shredded bike tire that ended the race for me.

There were a couple of volunteers at the cattle guard, and one was really sweet . He tried to get me picked up since walking all the way back in my bike shoes and cleats was not an option. He could tell I was totally disappointed, and he kept offering up entertainment to make things easier. I have to admit, it was a bit comical all the while disappointing. The cattle guard back flip was pretty cool, but the stink bug experiment was not on my list of favorites. The emergency truck said they could not pick me up for a half hour. I was quite annoyed with that news since that truck was going up and down the course the entire time we were riding before. It was blowing diesel exhaust in our faces the entire time, and we were complaining to each other about it. It was even on the cattle guard when we went up the hill, and we had to cross the cattle guard next to it. Then when I needed a ride to transition with my shredded tire, the truck couldn’t come get me for half hour. I was sad.

They finally came and got me, and by then I knew it was too late to do anything else. I just wanted to go home at that point. To make matters worse, the guy said, “Give me your timing chip. You are disqualified because I gave you a ride.” Duh. I already knew I was done, but did he have to say it like that? The Goat snapped a picture of me getting my bike out of the back of the truck, and he didn’t realize what I’d just been through when he recommended for me to go finish the run. The race was basically over, and my motivation was gone so I declined.

We headed down to the finish to cheer on the She-Wolf. Every single woman wearing blue regardless of size, shape, or color that the Goat saw, he automatically thought it was her! In fact, her ran up to the podium and told them to make a big deal of her when she crossed the finish line. I kept yelling to him that it wasn’t her, and he couldn’t hear me. So when the lady in blue came up the announcer kept yelling at her and calling her She-Wolf, and it most certainly was not the She-Wolf!!! Later the She-Wolf said she could hear the announcer from down on the trail in the desert and was wondering if he could see her all the way out there. When she came running in, she looked like she could do a repeat of the entire race. She was smiling and did not appear to be suffering at all. The Goat ran to the podium again and said, “This is the real She-Wolf!” And it was.

The She-Wolf accomplished something she was very afraid of for a long time. She was so excited to prove to herself that she could actually do a triathlon. She kissed her medal, and said she could do another one but not that day.

It was pedicures and massages after that. Then the lil sista arrived. That Goat became a professional “Nanny Goat” for the evening, and it was good.