My Journey from Couch Potato to Triathlete

Fit Milwaukee welcomes Sherry Wilde and she shares her first triathlon experience. You can find her on Twitter as @sherrywilde.

If you would have asked me four years ago to go for a run, I would have chuckled, grabbed my book, and taken a seat while you went for your run. I was not a runner, or much of anything that involved exercise. I might throw in a work out DVD once in a while or go for a walk around the neighborhood on a nice day. But given the choice, I would prefer to do anything but exercise.

Then my husband and I became close friends with our neighbor who was on a mission to lose weight. The guys started running together, which evolved into training for a marathon together, which involved joining a gym. Inspired by the guys, I joined the gym as well. For the first time in my life I started working out on a regular basis. The routine was generally the same: elliptical, treadmill (walking pace, of course) or bike for thirty minutes to an hour followed by some weight lifting (thank you very much to the trainer I met with for the free consultation). I followed this routine on and off for about two years.

At one point I entered the gym’s tri competition: 10 minute swim, 20 minute bike, 15 minute run. When the results were posted, I learned that I actually beat someone. This was a huge first for me. I never won anything athletic in my life. And this is what beating one person felt like – winning! As a kid in gym class I was always the last chosen for a team and I hated every minute of whatever ridiculous game we had to play – even Red Rover (tagged out AGAIN!). I could not wait until it was time for art class. Or free reading.

So this notion that I was actually better than someone at an athletic activity rolled around my brain. I continued going to the gym and attempted to run outside a few times (and oh, my, that is way harder than on a treadmill). Around this time a close friend of mine signed up to do the Danskin Women’s Sprint Tri. She had a great race and spoke very highly of the whole experience. I was intrigued, but not yet committed. I could not even run for 30 minutes straight or lap swim without taking breaks at each end of the pool. But maybe someday…

Fast forward to May 2008. I underwent a surgery which went horribly wrong, and I ended up in the hospital for three weeks. During that time I had three additional surgeries to repair the damage done in the initial surgery, both lungs filled with fluid and were subsequently drained (that hurt even on a morphine drip), went a little crazy on Benadryl, had a blood transfusion, and arrived home with a gapping hole in my abdomen and a colostomy bag. (Sounds fun, right?) I spent that summer healing and gaining my strength back. In November of that same year my colostomy was reversed and I returned home from the hospital to heal once more; this time with just a few scars.

In January 2009 I went back to the gym, committed to getting back to full strength. In February, inspired by my friend and the fact that I was alive to do so, I signed up for the Danskin. I started to run, for minutes at a time, for the first time in my life. I followed a training program which involved more walking than running at first, gradually increasing the amount of running time, until I was running for 30 minutes straight.

In May 2009 I ran my first race ever, Sarah’s Stride in Wauwatosa. I finished in about 36 minutes and I got the race t-shirt, which means a lot to someone who never got one before. I spent the summer of 2009 training for the Danskin: swim, bike, run, repeat, further and further everyday. I studied up how to do transitions (from water to bike, then bike to run). I did a few lake swims & practiced the transitions. I loved every minute of it. (It should be noted that my husband, @dwilde, trained with me. He was all set to compete in his own tri, but alas, the Danskin is only for women. However, @dwilde was thinking about organizing the Manskin. Find him on Twitter for more details.)

The weekend of the race arrived. I was a little nervous and plenty excited. I hemmed and hawed over purchasing a sweatshirt with the Danskin logo on the front. In the end, I didn’t buy it. I was so caught up in the day. I felt so honored to be at the Expo. Most of the women there were athletes, and I was one of them!

The morning of race day arrived. I set up my transition area, tried to remember where my bike was (the balloon I tied to the bike rack offered little in the way of assistance due to a slight wind), and headed over to the starting line. With some help I wiggled into my wetsuit and put on my bright pink Danskin swim cap. There were athletes and their supporters everywhere. The music was blaring and the announcer began calling groups forward. The first group to start the race was the breast cancer survivors. Melissa Etheridge’s “I Run for Life” started to play. I looked over at at my friend who had come to support me. Her eyes were filled with tears, as were mine. Those women about to race had surpassed insurmountable odds. I felt like I had as well. This race was to be my personal celebration of my life, of being saved a year and a half earlier. I had made it.

My age group was called. We got into the water up to our ankles. We were all giddy. Smiling. Laughing nervously. I looked over at my husband, my friend, and my parents who had all come to cheer me on. I smiled & waved. And then it was go time.

The swim was by far the hardest part of the race for me. I was very thankful that I had on a wetsuit that kept me afloat when a) a stronger swimmer swam over me b) when getting kicked in the face by a swimmer in front of me, and c) when I got tired – which was soon after starting the race. After what seemed like a lifetime (but was really only 22 minutes) I made it to shore. I heard my husband yelling and looked to my right.

There he was all smiles and cheers, which helped me talk myself into hurrying up my first transition. The bike ride was my favorite, and strongest, part of the race. Those 52 minutes flew by. Near the end of the bike, I took a gel. Then I was running on legs that felt like cement blocks. 34 minutes later I crossed the finish line high-fiving spectators and pumping my fists in the air. I got my medal, my picture taken, and found my family. I was so freaking excited. Earlier that morning I was not a triathlete. 2 hours and 8 seconds later, I was.

This year, I will for sure be buying that sweatshirt.