Email 2: Karen Gurvis finished the Triathlon
SUCCESS!
********************************************
2004 FORD NEW YORK CITY TRIATHLON – 27 JUNE
FEMALE AGE GROUP: 30 - 34
Place Name Age City State Swim Trans Bike Trans Run Finish
83 Karen Gurvis 32 New York NY 31:32 9:12 1:45:38 3:18 73:45 3:43:23
I placed 83 out of 94 women in my age group. I placed 13 out of 14 women in the Athena 39 & Under category.
*********************************************
I turned the corner at the 72nd Street Transverse in Central Park and just heard the New York City Police Band amidst the roar of cheers from the crowd I was approaching. I couldn’t see anything except my coach Scott in his bright orange shirt holding out his arms to me. I sprinted my hardest and faster ever. Scott grabbed my hand and squeezed strongly and said “good girl, you can do it, run hard” and he let go, with 100 yards to go. I couldn’t stop smiling at the same time as gritting my teeth with intensity as I made those last turns through the corrals. With my arms stretched over my head in victory, I stepped onto the timing mat just as a photographer took my photo. I was breathing hard as the emotion overwhelmed me and I was sort of crying with joy. I did it! I turned around and screamed as Shira came in only seconds later.
An early morning
The day felt like three. After five hours of sleep, I awoke at 3:30am, made myself breakie (two eggs on toast) and showered. I finished packing my bag and went over my list again. I had everything I needed, and more. My roommate, Ilona and her brother Michael and I caught a cab in the dark at 4.30am and got to the transition area – a hive of excited and nervous athletes and triathletes-to-be, just like the two of us. I unpacked my bag in a tiny space under the wheel of my bike which was hanging by the seat over a pole. The ground was covered in a black carpet but was damp from the overnight dew. The temperature was cool and pleasant. I grabbed my special plastic bag, pre-named and numbered, that I had received from orientation the day before and put in my wetsuit, lubricant, goggles, nose clip, white official race swim cap and a honey sandwich. I put on my $2 sandals from Chinatown and we trekked the mile – single file on a dirt path alongside the highway to the start of the swim.
I felt prepared. As prepared as I ever could be for my first race. There was one thing going through my mind – a comment that our coaches had reiterated over and over during our training season – “nothing new on race day”. Well, I had my new $2 sandals from Chinatown, a new computer on my bike, a new pump on my bike, and my newly decorated race singlet with my name painted on and race number pinned on. Oh dear. Why did I have to have all this new stuff! It was the $2 sandals from Chinatown that were so uncomfortable – but thankfully not such a big problem and they are now in the rubbish bin.
As the sun rose, 1600+ athletes (including actor David Duchovny from the X-Files) lined up for our scoring chip (recording our times), line up for the port-a-loos (toilets), and more than half put on wetsuits and body-lubricant. We had different colored swim caps related to our ‘age-group-wave’. We were body-marked with our race number and also our age on our calf (no hiding it!). Photos were snapped and hugs were shared as we watched the ‘waves’ before us jump in the water and start swimming. Walking over the metal bridge onto the barge felt like I was ‘walking the plank’ on a pirate ship. I moved to the far outside section of the barge where the slower swimmers were recommended to start. Climbed the ladder down the barge on to a green carpeted pontoon, from where we jumped into the water. There was no room for me to make a little jump, so I jumped far and high and re-tasted all my Gatorade as I came back up to the surface to grab the rope. My coach Scott was there on the pontoon reassuring all us newbies. I yelled out to him that I forgot how to swim! Everyone laughed! And the announcer said “GO!”
Swim
Thirty one minutes and thirty two seconds later I emerged from the water. I was a bit disappointed that I found it so hard. All through the water, I kept reminding myself to pace; that I’ve done this before; that it’s just like being in the pool. I said hello to Sully, the kayaker who I’d met two weeks prior in the Hudson River swim race I swam. As my fellow wave-mates swam on beautifully ahead of me, I took a good look around me to see where I was and who was watching. I spotted another swimmer heading to New Jersey and felt the need to point her out to a kayaker. Silly thing must have swum an extra half mile with her poor sense of direction. The water was filled with rubbish, which was also somewhat disappointing. We were only about 10 to 20 yards off from the shore and hence the garbage had collected there. I kept swimming and kept swimming and the dark blue caps came and passed me. Then the green caps passed me. Then the light blue caps, and then the yellow caps. Oh dear. I was really being passed by a lot of people. I got kicked in the head twice. The first time dislodged my goggles and nose clip, but I remained calm and was not to be stressed. Suddenly – there was the finish line and the exit ramp. But alas, there was no one there the pull me up out of the water and beach me on the deck like I had expected. I crawled out, got my land-legs and smiled as I de-robed from my wetsuit and jogged barefoot on the bitumen path the nine blocks to the transition entrance.
Wow and thank god that was over. Now for transition: remove wetsuit without falling over (check); remove cap, goggles and nose clip (check); dry feet; drink; put on race singlet; put a power bar in my pocket; socks; shoes; sunglasses, helmet and gloves (check, check, check etc). Do I have everything? Oops. My bike (okay check).
Bike
The bike part was great. I loved it. I was singing and talking to myself and to everyone along the way. I yelled “Go Team” to every Team in Training person I passed, or who passed me. I knew I had some catching up to do because the swim took me so long. The sun shone and the wind blew in my face and I was so happy. I had my race number pinned to my shirt, stuck onto my helmet, written on my arm and leg as well as tied to my bike (which kept hitting against the wheel and making an annoying noise which I ignored). It was hard to avoid being noticed as #608.
And then came the hills. Oh dear. I said to myself that I cannot allow my speed to drop below 5 miles/hour. But alas (again), the long, long hills were just so challenging and as many cyclists passed me, I regretted to see that I was going at the roaring speed of 4.5 miles/hour. So many experienced triathletes and cyclists called my name as they passed me with encouraging words like “good job Karen”, “keep it up, you’re doing great Karen” etc. And there were some spectators alongside the highway cheering us all on too. It all helped tremendously, but best of all was when I looked over to my left shoulder where my dad promised to be sitting and there he was, spurring me on.
Of course, with all the uphills, come the downhills. Yay! I live for the downhills. Maximum speed 34.5 miles/hour. I couldn’t even pedal fast enough because I didn’t have enough gears. I was singing ‘Greatest American Hero’, you know that song… about “flying along with a wing and a prayer” (or something like that) “who could it be…believe it or not it’s just me”. Yep it was me, flying down the Henry Hudson Highway, taking in the beautiful views of New Jersey and New York, and the not so beautiful views of construction sites and the Department of Sanitation sites. I passed many riders with dislodged chains or flat tires. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to stop. I did my Yonkers u-turn and before I knew it, I was at the West 57th Street, Manhattan u-turn and there was my coach Lauren. She had a cow bell (I think). I told her I was having so much fun and was loving it and she laughed at me. Coming back into transition was great and felt so easy. I knew I’d worked really hard and my muscles were tight. I used caution dismounting so I would be able to tackle the run. Total bike time was 1 hour 45 minutes and 38 seconds. Fantastic!
Transition again meant remembering to take off my helmet. I debated if I should use the toilet before starting the run. I’d drunk a bottle of Gatorade and half a bottle of water on the bike and I’d eaten most of my power bar. Nahh! Couldn’t be bothered undoing my one-piece tri-suit and having to zip it up again. I’d already taken advantage of the Hudson River toilet three times during the swim (I know, that sounds a lot for half an hour, but it was an unusual day).
Run
I began the ridiculous ascent up a massive hill to get out of Riverside Park and onto West 72nd Street. As I’d learnt, I was taking very small (almost tiny) steps. Like a shuffle really. My hamstrings were so tight. I was concerned about injury if I sped up too soon after biking. I was slow, but I was comfortable and breathing well. They stopped the traffic at West End Avenue and that was fun. But when they stopped Broadway for me – well – did I get excited. Can you imagine. “They stopped Broadway for Karen Gurvis.” I know it sounds silly, but all kinds of weird psychology was going on in my head. Just before crossing Broadway I saw my first set of friends and then at Amsterdam Avenue I saw our new guy from work who ran with me to the park entrance when the police stopped him. At the West 72nd Street entrance to the park there were two more groups screaming and cheering for me (one of which I didn’t see, but I believe they were there!).
I was in a zone, focused and intent. Here I was, entering the park – Central Park – in New York City – where I now live, and this is the park where I’ve spent the past five months training. This was MY park. Pretty soon I came across my lovely swim coach Earl, who ran with me for a few minutes and gave me some encouraging words that I can’t remember now. I had a hill to tackle and it came and it went and really wasn’t that bad at all. Finally at 102nd Street my hamstrings loosened and I could speed up. Then I found Ross, one of our tougher but certainly fantastic coaches, who told me my form was good and my breathing sounded normal but was getting close to being too hard. He told me to keep my head up and look towards the runners in front of me as if they are magnets. “Keep your head up Karen” was my mantra from then on. I saw a friend on her bike (or I should say, she saw me first) and she rode alongside me for a while having a chat. That was great. This was so much fun.
On the Harlem Hills I caught up with some racers walking and encouraged them to run with me for a bit. It always helps to run with someone and they needed a bit of help right then. And then I saw Shira ahead of me and thought how nice it would be to run with her because we ran together so often in our training. So I put in the extra effort and spent the next ten minutes or so chasing her and desperately trying to catch her. We ran together for the last two and something miles. We got up those hills and controlled our downhills. We were both so amazed that we felt so good. I had totally expected to be running like a dead woman (?) and feeling really crappy, but I felt fantastic. I saw two more sets of friends on the east side of the park which was terrific.
Having supporters out there meant so much to me. I especially want to thank those friends of mine who made the effort to come out early on a Sunday morning to cheer me on. I know many more of you wished you could be there and I promise you that I felt your spirit. And all those strangers who yelled out my name and cheered for me; thank you. And to the announcer who called my name over the loud speaker as I crossed the finish line – thank you too! And thanks also to those of you who found me at the finish and hugged me and congratulated me.
But the race wasn’t over till the last Team-in-Training teammate crossed that line and an hour later we still had two buddies out there. So some of us went back to the 72nd Street turn on the east side and waited for them. Twice, as a group, we ran with both of them to the finish line. It was amazing.
It is hard to explain in words the feeling of elation. Like a drug, the adrenaline and endorphins were so powerful. Yesterday, I completed an Olympic distance Triathlon. I did it with a fantastic team. I did it for two really important causes – (1) cancer research; and (2) me. And at the end of it all, I was still standing and standing strong.
On the final straight, Shira told me to make sure I remember crossing the line. I’ll never ever forget crossing that finish line.
********************************************
2004 FORD NEW YORK CITY TRIATHLON – 27 JUNE
FEMALE AGE GROUP: 30 - 34
Place Name Age City State Swim Trans Bike Trans Run Finish
83 Karen Gurvis 32 New York NY 31:32 9:12 1:45:38 3:18 73:45 3:43:23
I placed 83 out of 94 women in my age group. I placed 13 out of 14 women in the Athena 39 & Under category.
*********************************************
I turned the corner at the 72nd Street Transverse in Central Park and just heard the New York City Police Band amidst the roar of cheers from the crowd I was approaching. I couldn’t see anything except my coach Scott in his bright orange shirt holding out his arms to me. I sprinted my hardest and faster ever. Scott grabbed my hand and squeezed strongly and said “good girl, you can do it, run hard” and he let go, with 100 yards to go. I couldn’t stop smiling at the same time as gritting my teeth with intensity as I made those last turns through the corrals. With my arms stretched over my head in victory, I stepped onto the timing mat just as a photographer took my photo. I was breathing hard as the emotion overwhelmed me and I was sort of crying with joy. I did it! I turned around and screamed as Shira came in only seconds later.
An early morning
The day felt like three. After five hours of sleep, I awoke at 3:30am, made myself breakie (two eggs on toast) and showered. I finished packing my bag and went over my list again. I had everything I needed, and more. My roommate, Ilona and her brother Michael and I caught a cab in the dark at 4.30am and got to the transition area – a hive of excited and nervous athletes and triathletes-to-be, just like the two of us. I unpacked my bag in a tiny space under the wheel of my bike which was hanging by the seat over a pole. The ground was covered in a black carpet but was damp from the overnight dew. The temperature was cool and pleasant. I grabbed my special plastic bag, pre-named and numbered, that I had received from orientation the day before and put in my wetsuit, lubricant, goggles, nose clip, white official race swim cap and a honey sandwich. I put on my $2 sandals from Chinatown and we trekked the mile – single file on a dirt path alongside the highway to the start of the swim.
I felt prepared. As prepared as I ever could be for my first race. There was one thing going through my mind – a comment that our coaches had reiterated over and over during our training season – “nothing new on race day”. Well, I had my new $2 sandals from Chinatown, a new computer on my bike, a new pump on my bike, and my newly decorated race singlet with my name painted on and race number pinned on. Oh dear. Why did I have to have all this new stuff! It was the $2 sandals from Chinatown that were so uncomfortable – but thankfully not such a big problem and they are now in the rubbish bin.
As the sun rose, 1600+ athletes (including actor David Duchovny from the X-Files) lined up for our scoring chip (recording our times), line up for the port-a-loos (toilets), and more than half put on wetsuits and body-lubricant. We had different colored swim caps related to our ‘age-group-wave’. We were body-marked with our race number and also our age on our calf (no hiding it!). Photos were snapped and hugs were shared as we watched the ‘waves’ before us jump in the water and start swimming. Walking over the metal bridge onto the barge felt like I was ‘walking the plank’ on a pirate ship. I moved to the far outside section of the barge where the slower swimmers were recommended to start. Climbed the ladder down the barge on to a green carpeted pontoon, from where we jumped into the water. There was no room for me to make a little jump, so I jumped far and high and re-tasted all my Gatorade as I came back up to the surface to grab the rope. My coach Scott was there on the pontoon reassuring all us newbies. I yelled out to him that I forgot how to swim! Everyone laughed! And the announcer said “GO!”
Swim
Thirty one minutes and thirty two seconds later I emerged from the water. I was a bit disappointed that I found it so hard. All through the water, I kept reminding myself to pace; that I’ve done this before; that it’s just like being in the pool. I said hello to Sully, the kayaker who I’d met two weeks prior in the Hudson River swim race I swam. As my fellow wave-mates swam on beautifully ahead of me, I took a good look around me to see where I was and who was watching. I spotted another swimmer heading to New Jersey and felt the need to point her out to a kayaker. Silly thing must have swum an extra half mile with her poor sense of direction. The water was filled with rubbish, which was also somewhat disappointing. We were only about 10 to 20 yards off from the shore and hence the garbage had collected there. I kept swimming and kept swimming and the dark blue caps came and passed me. Then the green caps passed me. Then the light blue caps, and then the yellow caps. Oh dear. I was really being passed by a lot of people. I got kicked in the head twice. The first time dislodged my goggles and nose clip, but I remained calm and was not to be stressed. Suddenly – there was the finish line and the exit ramp. But alas, there was no one there the pull me up out of the water and beach me on the deck like I had expected. I crawled out, got my land-legs and smiled as I de-robed from my wetsuit and jogged barefoot on the bitumen path the nine blocks to the transition entrance.
Wow and thank god that was over. Now for transition: remove wetsuit without falling over (check); remove cap, goggles and nose clip (check); dry feet; drink; put on race singlet; put a power bar in my pocket; socks; shoes; sunglasses, helmet and gloves (check, check, check etc). Do I have everything? Oops. My bike (okay check).
Bike
The bike part was great. I loved it. I was singing and talking to myself and to everyone along the way. I yelled “Go Team” to every Team in Training person I passed, or who passed me. I knew I had some catching up to do because the swim took me so long. The sun shone and the wind blew in my face and I was so happy. I had my race number pinned to my shirt, stuck onto my helmet, written on my arm and leg as well as tied to my bike (which kept hitting against the wheel and making an annoying noise which I ignored). It was hard to avoid being noticed as #608.
And then came the hills. Oh dear. I said to myself that I cannot allow my speed to drop below 5 miles/hour. But alas (again), the long, long hills were just so challenging and as many cyclists passed me, I regretted to see that I was going at the roaring speed of 4.5 miles/hour. So many experienced triathletes and cyclists called my name as they passed me with encouraging words like “good job Karen”, “keep it up, you’re doing great Karen” etc. And there were some spectators alongside the highway cheering us all on too. It all helped tremendously, but best of all was when I looked over to my left shoulder where my dad promised to be sitting and there he was, spurring me on.
Of course, with all the uphills, come the downhills. Yay! I live for the downhills. Maximum speed 34.5 miles/hour. I couldn’t even pedal fast enough because I didn’t have enough gears. I was singing ‘Greatest American Hero’, you know that song… about “flying along with a wing and a prayer” (or something like that) “who could it be…believe it or not it’s just me”. Yep it was me, flying down the Henry Hudson Highway, taking in the beautiful views of New Jersey and New York, and the not so beautiful views of construction sites and the Department of Sanitation sites. I passed many riders with dislodged chains or flat tires. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to stop. I did my Yonkers u-turn and before I knew it, I was at the West 57th Street, Manhattan u-turn and there was my coach Lauren. She had a cow bell (I think). I told her I was having so much fun and was loving it and she laughed at me. Coming back into transition was great and felt so easy. I knew I’d worked really hard and my muscles were tight. I used caution dismounting so I would be able to tackle the run. Total bike time was 1 hour 45 minutes and 38 seconds. Fantastic!
Transition again meant remembering to take off my helmet. I debated if I should use the toilet before starting the run. I’d drunk a bottle of Gatorade and half a bottle of water on the bike and I’d eaten most of my power bar. Nahh! Couldn’t be bothered undoing my one-piece tri-suit and having to zip it up again. I’d already taken advantage of the Hudson River toilet three times during the swim (I know, that sounds a lot for half an hour, but it was an unusual day).
Run
I began the ridiculous ascent up a massive hill to get out of Riverside Park and onto West 72nd Street. As I’d learnt, I was taking very small (almost tiny) steps. Like a shuffle really. My hamstrings were so tight. I was concerned about injury if I sped up too soon after biking. I was slow, but I was comfortable and breathing well. They stopped the traffic at West End Avenue and that was fun. But when they stopped Broadway for me – well – did I get excited. Can you imagine. “They stopped Broadway for Karen Gurvis.” I know it sounds silly, but all kinds of weird psychology was going on in my head. Just before crossing Broadway I saw my first set of friends and then at Amsterdam Avenue I saw our new guy from work who ran with me to the park entrance when the police stopped him. At the West 72nd Street entrance to the park there were two more groups screaming and cheering for me (one of which I didn’t see, but I believe they were there!).
I was in a zone, focused and intent. Here I was, entering the park – Central Park – in New York City – where I now live, and this is the park where I’ve spent the past five months training. This was MY park. Pretty soon I came across my lovely swim coach Earl, who ran with me for a few minutes and gave me some encouraging words that I can’t remember now. I had a hill to tackle and it came and it went and really wasn’t that bad at all. Finally at 102nd Street my hamstrings loosened and I could speed up. Then I found Ross, one of our tougher but certainly fantastic coaches, who told me my form was good and my breathing sounded normal but was getting close to being too hard. He told me to keep my head up and look towards the runners in front of me as if they are magnets. “Keep your head up Karen” was my mantra from then on. I saw a friend on her bike (or I should say, she saw me first) and she rode alongside me for a while having a chat. That was great. This was so much fun.
On the Harlem Hills I caught up with some racers walking and encouraged them to run with me for a bit. It always helps to run with someone and they needed a bit of help right then. And then I saw Shira ahead of me and thought how nice it would be to run with her because we ran together so often in our training. So I put in the extra effort and spent the next ten minutes or so chasing her and desperately trying to catch her. We ran together for the last two and something miles. We got up those hills and controlled our downhills. We were both so amazed that we felt so good. I had totally expected to be running like a dead woman (?) and feeling really crappy, but I felt fantastic. I saw two more sets of friends on the east side of the park which was terrific.
Having supporters out there meant so much to me. I especially want to thank those friends of mine who made the effort to come out early on a Sunday morning to cheer me on. I know many more of you wished you could be there and I promise you that I felt your spirit. And all those strangers who yelled out my name and cheered for me; thank you. And to the announcer who called my name over the loud speaker as I crossed the finish line – thank you too! And thanks also to those of you who found me at the finish and hugged me and congratulated me.
But the race wasn’t over till the last Team-in-Training teammate crossed that line and an hour later we still had two buddies out there. So some of us went back to the 72nd Street turn on the east side and waited for them. Twice, as a group, we ran with both of them to the finish line. It was amazing.
It is hard to explain in words the feeling of elation. Like a drug, the adrenaline and endorphins were so powerful. Yesterday, I completed an Olympic distance Triathlon. I did it with a fantastic team. I did it for two really important causes – (1) cancer research; and (2) me. And at the end of it all, I was still standing and standing strong.
On the final straight, Shira told me to make sure I remember crossing the line. I’ll never ever forget crossing that finish line.
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