Hey! I've been remiss on my posting so to get started, check this out. It's actually an assignment I did for one of my classes but it's basically why I love the tri. It's also a bit wordy so I'll save more info about me for a later post.

“Nothing but strength,” I hear in my head. It’s my spin teacher’s voice, and he is louder than just about anyone else I know. He doesn’t even use the microphone in the room, but he is just a couple decibels below deafening. “Too easy!” he yells, terrifying and encouraging at the same time. But this time I’m not in the crowded classroom with a techno version of Mortal Kombat on the stereo. This time it’s real.
It’s nearing 7:30 on a Sunday morning in late September and it’s hot outside. My hair is dry already. Supposed to hit 109 degrees by mid-afternoon and it’s one of those days I have to think long and hard about why I moved here from Portland. It’s one of those days when I think about boots and jeans and a wool sweater, a hot pumpkin spice latte and an umbrella. But instead of drinking the cozy coffee I pedal just a little faster, push pull push pull. It’s a damn good thing I love this.
“This” is my triathlon fever. This keeps me sane. This lets me eat a cookie without feeling guilty. This gives me a reason to swim outside and keep my tan, slathered in sunscreen, of course. This gives me time to think, to draft papers in my head, to ponder UCC Article 2-207 without accidentally highlighting my hand. This is my productive procrastination.
The headwind hits me hard as I come around the corner. Three riders fly past me.
“Nothing but strength, nothing but strength.”
And I see the end of the course, so I settle into my drop bars and pull up with my hamstrings because next is the run. “Save the quads,” I tell myself. “Now go. Go. GO!” Off the bike, through transition and out the other side in my beloved Asics.
The three riders who passed me aren’t too far ahead now. It’s only a 5k so I have to pick up the pace to pass them. I give them a name – the Lizards, because of their green and black Landis Tri Club suits – and decide that by the next water station I’ll be ahead again. And I am. I love passing people.
“Suzanne Trujillo!” I pour on the last smidge of speed I have left and sprint the final 100 yards to the finish line as the announcer yells out my name. One thing I love about this place: people can pronounce my last name.
I grew up in a swimming pool. I started lessons at age two, swim team at six and by high school was swimming for both a club and the high school team. My club coach made us swim for our high schools even though no one wanted to. But it was that or the threat of thousands of pushups, so we dutifully anchored the relays and cheered for our fellow Gophers, Bruins, Raiders, Eagles. I was in a pool close to 30 hours a week, and I loved it. It gave me time to put my head down and go, to think, to write my papers, and to feel at home among my chlorine-soaked friends.
After knee surgery my junior year, burnout started to set in. Most of my friends graduated and went away, and it just wasn’t fun anymore. I was good, but not full-ride-to-a-Division-1-school good. After I quit swimming my senior year, I didn’t get back into a pool for anything but floating for nearly six years. So crew at University of Oregon took the place of swimming, and our coach made us run. A lot. Even the second surgery to the same knee didn’t stop me. In Track Town USA, I ran and ran and ran. Just like swimming, it was my time to think, to write my papers, to be part of a group. Kept the beer calories in check as an added bonus.
On the first day of law school when I was terrified of the decision I made to be here, when I wanted to just go home to normal temperatures, and when my classmates were complaining of Contracts nightmares, I ran. I was two of four months into my marathon training. Law school helped me remember the power of mind-numbing monotonous workouts; one foot in front of the other is a great stress outlet, a tool for time management, an escape from the library and the contagious anxiety.
“If I can run, then I can sleep. If I can sleep, then I can study. And if I can study, then I can be a lawyer. A good lawyer. So run.”
My first triathlon was second semester of 1L year. I didn’t even have my own bike, and the pre-race nerves were the same as the pre-final exam nerves. But for me, they’re a sign I’m ready. I’ve prepared enough to know what I’m in for. So I swam. I jumped on my borrowed and ill-fitting bike and flew, partly to beat people and partly because the bike was so uncomfortable. Then the run. Like a final exam, it requires strategy, time management, even proper nutrition – too much coffee right before is a mistake, but not enough is just as bad.
“Suzanne Trujillo!” yelled the announcer as I flew over the finish line. And I was hooked. Even though I was so nervous I nearly got sick, I loved it. I also resolved to buy a bike.
My decision to become a lawyer is as close to set in stone as things can ever be. Triathlon does not reinforce or threaten that decision. It enables the decision. It helps me manage the stress of classes, of exams, of the job search. It continually makes me more efficient, more conscientious, and it usually makes me hungry. It gives me purpose at the gym – I want that Ironman tattoo, probably on my shoulder. And it doesn’t hurt to know that if all else fails, I could go pro.