If you're planning to do a triathlon, don't forget your tennis shoes.

I swam/biked/ran in my first triathlon last Sunday morning, but it almost didn't happen.

Why, you ask? Well. I suppose it all begins on the Saturday night before the big race. I gathered up all the things I needed, diligently checking them off my checklist. The list of necessities for a triathlon is very long; it included sunscreen, two water bottles, flip flops and tennis shoes and cycling shoes for those who have them (I don't), bike helmet with race # sticker attached, race # and race belt, permanent marker to mark arms and legs with race # and age, packages of "gu," this stuff you're supposed to suck down for energy during the bike and/or run, sunglasses, a towel and several other things that I've already forgotten. (Note that a bike is NOT on the checklist because I had already dropped it off at the race location the day before.)

So I gathered these things and diligently checked them off my checklist, and went to sleep at the early hour of 10pm so that I would be able to rise at 4 in the morning to go to my friends' house. That "4 in the morning" part is key, because when I got to their house, I brought my stuff - a backpack full of everything listed above and a pair of shoes with socks rolled up in them - inside, ate some apple and banana slices with peanut butter, and got into the car to go, bringing my backpack but COMPLETELY FORGETTING my tennis shoes.

It was still extremely dark at 5:10 am when we arrived at the Expo Center (NE of Austin) where the Danskin Women's Triathlon was to be held. Nonetheless, we boarded the school bus-shuttle, entered the transition area, found our bikes and started setting up our gear. That is when I realized it: no shoes for me. : ( I panicked a bit, then called my mom and dad, who were getting ready to drive out to cheer for me. Luckily, they were able to find my old running shoes and a pair of socks and bring them to me in the nick of time, just before the transition area closed for good. I ran in and put my shoes next to my bike, then snuck out so stealthily that no one even warned me about it being 5-10 minutes passed the time the transition area was really supposed to shut down. Whew.

Next, I went down to the boat dock where all the athletes were gathering for the 1/2 mile swim in Decker Lake. After waiting for over an hour and watching wave after wave of women in their brightly colored swim caps dash into the water, it was finally my turn. My friend Alice and I stood together, waiting for the signal to begin. Suddenly we were off, making our way through the swarm of pawing arms and kicking feet.

The little cloud of bobbing swim caps that looked so picturesque from the shore was actually a violent melee. We found our barings and swam, swam, swam, even passing some of the people in waves before us! (We could tell because they had different colored caps.) Swimming is my strongest event by a longshot, and I did very well except that I couldn't tell where I was going, which caused me to zigzag a bit. I think I may have added an extra 100 yards or so, just veering one way then the other.

After the swim, I came out of the water and had to regain my land legs (as opposed to sea legs). Then I went and found my bike, put on those TENNIS SHOES, and headed for the road. The biking segment was the hardest; I've ridden on hills in my neighborhood, but none so long and steep as the ones on the roads out there. The best parts were the long, gently sloping sections surrounded by gorgeous Texas landscapes - green fields, leafy trees, red dirt and wild flowers.

After 12.9 miles (breathtaking in more than one way), I made it back to the transition area to hop off my bike and hit the trail. I ran more slowly than usuall, but by now the endorphins were pumping and it didn't feel all that bad. It was all worth it when I got to the finish line. Now I want to do another! Next time, though, I'm going to remember my shoes.