Check-in on Friday went smoothly, I got my packet picked up, my bike racked, my bags checked and best of all I got to meet some of my Coeur Sports Teammates! I could not be happier with the team I’ve been blessed with this year or prouder to represent such a wonderful brand! I saw so many badass Coeur kits on the course on Saturday! If you were wearing one and I mumbled something to you, it was probably a compliment on your kit!
Friday night, I had In-n-Out for dinner, not the best choice I’m sure. I didn’t feel like doing a sit down dinner so obviously, the typical California girl that I am, I went straight to In-n-Out. I had spotted it earlier that day. We have a radar for these sorts of things, it’s built in at birth. One cheeseburger (animal style of course), one fries with extra salt (pre-load) and half a milkshake later, I was back in my motel.
Getting back to the motel I noticed that my room smelled of pot and my neighbors were super noisy. Weed is legal here in Cali and I’m sure they were smoking it on the landing. I shrugged it off thinking things would quiet down by bedtime. The motel was fully booked, so I couldn’t move even if I had wanted to. The entire town was packed with the influx of athletes and their friends and families.
Well our wall-mates did not quiet down. In fact, they got louder and because the walls were so paper thin, I could hear every minute detail going on in that room. Guess what, that wasn’t an ordinary motel guest (or maybe it was…?), it was a prostitute with her pimp. I know what you’re going to say, “Lindsey, what did you expect from a Motel?” And all I can say is, I just didn’t think about it. I knew it wouldn’t be nice, but hey I just wanted a place to sleep right? Learn from me, lol. Never stay in a motel for a race, or for that matter, any reason.
I couldn’t believe it. Is this real life? Yes, yes it was. I heard everything, EVERYTHING and was fuming. I deal with anxiety often, even during non-race settings, but this just sent me through the roof. We couldn’t move because the motel was fully booked and I didn’t want to cause some sort of scene and have to deal with police or god knows what else (crazy pimp, gun?), so I endured. That’s what this weekend was about right? My race just started early, lol. We turned the TV up and tried to let the sounds of the Matrix drown it out. She had many “visitors” that night and I finally succumbed to sleep at about 2:30, only to wake up at 3:45.
I got my butt ready and jammed out of there as fast as possible to get down to the buses, eager to shrug off the slime of that motel with a nice cold refreshing dip in Lake Sonoma. I boarded the school bus (haha I know right!) and headed up to Lake Sonoma with a few thousand athletes. I ate my breakfast on the bus, one Hawaiian Roll and a quarter of a croissant, not ideal, but that’s all I could stomach.
The ride took about an hour before we finally arrived at T1. It was a twilight and the flood lights were on, excitement and nerves hung heavy in the air, as hurried athletes, spectators and volunteers rushed to and fro. The lines to the bathroom were probably 20 persons long for each stall, but I had noticed a huge line of stalls down at the water’s edge that had no lines, so I ran my butt down the hill (warm-up!) and took care of business.
T1 was ablaze with athletes, some already donned their seal-like gear, others were still shoving themselves into their wetsuits and looked like half-stuffed sausages. There really is no elegant way to get into a wetsuit. If you’re a self-conscious person, tri isn’t for you. I got T1 set-up, sausaged up and looked for my teammates. It’s really hard to tell people apart in a wetsuit. We all kinda look the same with the cap, goggles and suits on. All equals, getting ready to start a long, hard day, each with their own hurdles to overcome. I finally found a teammate, we checked our morning bags, with our flip flops inside (BIG MISTAKE) and headed down to the water to line up.