Triathlon strengthened bodies, minds and a community

But it also rendered the columnist immobile for days afterward

Two days after My First Triathlon and the black ink of my racing numbers is slowly fading from my arm and from my calf. The thing is, I don't really want it to.

Looking at those numbers this weekend has reminded me of what I did, that I pushed my body and my will farther than I ever have and I made it through. I don't want to forget that.

Of course, early in the race I questioned whether that would happen.

Around 60 of us jumped in the water at Heron Park Saturday morning to swim a quarter mile, bike 12 miles and run 3 miles. There was such excitement from the crowd during the countdown that there was a palpable energy that powered me.

That lasted about 30 seconds.

Then I looked ahead and saw the dock we were all swimming toward and noticed it wasn't getting any closer. I had to dismiss my theory that a strong current was pushing us all back when I saw all of the neon heads of the other participants pulling away from me. Was I swimming backward?

I know I have the upper body strength of an underdeveloped toddler, but after five minutes of swimming, I expected to be closer than I was.

As I fell into a thrashing dog paddle, I apologized to a young lady I accidentally kicked as she blew past me. I apologized to an old lady I intentionally grabbed in the hopes that she would pull me along. I thanked the two Search and Rescue officers for waiting for me as I remained the very last competitor to emerge from the lake. I wasn't in the race to win it, but now I wasn't sure I could even finish it.

As I finally hit the shore, I was encouraged by a tow-headed little kid who told me, "C'mon, you're not that far behind."

Land was kinder to me. Although the road was bumpy on my bike, a bruised butt was easier to handle than those lungs full of the lake.

When I switched to the run, I felt like I had elephant legs. But I paced behind racer #10, who kept me from exhausting myself. The cheers of supporters rallied me on, I even caught a couple of fans doing the wave as we ran by.

I finished the race in the middle of the pack, but to cross the line felt like winning. I'm sure everyone else felt the same way.

Thank you to all of the volunteers who answered my stupid questions and handed out water to those of us dumb enough to spend the night before the race at the bar.

Thank you to the police officers who kept us from being run over.

And a huge thank you goes to Deb Miller, the woman who brought the idea and to World Endurance Sport, the company that brought the nuts and bolts.

You all should be very proud — you've created an amazing community event, one I hope becomes a tradition. As for me, I doubt My First Triathlon will be My Last.