To the finish line

 2 November

So the thing is that I did it! I crossed the finish line, as a matter of fact. It was incredibly hard to understand what had just happened. We did not have a regular race, nor regular conditions that preceded it. And it was obvious from then on that it that whatever I hoped to achieve this race, was going to be close to impossible. 

FINISH: Who - how - why not, if not?

Ever since I completed this race... I have read various race recaps and heard various stories about it, be it the pros or the average athlete, like me, who managed to make it here. 

Case studies: how come they did not finish? what if your bag does not make it? 

There were some both among the women and men, who had accidents. Two men were hit on Saturday, 29 October by an intoxicated woman (drugged or drunken? investigation still ongoing). As a result, Mark (one of them) had two cervival, two lumbar vertebraes fractured, nose broken and road rash on one of his legs. I could not believe that something like this could happen at an event with roads closed.

Among the women, there was one, who woke up in the hospital with a broken collarbone. When she fell, she did not know what happened due to loss of conscience. She went on to the WC Facebook Group and started asking other women what had happened. How sad, I feel truly sorry for her. 

Did your bike make it? Rejoice! Since there were again some people whose bike did not. And in some other cases, the bike got in but with some pieces missing or broken. Another male competitor just recently posted that his bike did not make it. Lucky him, he knew x, y and z, who could lend him a bike, a helmet, a neoprene and could finally therefore participate in the race. 

What about me?

I did not get a flat (yes-yes-yes!!).
I did not fall. 
My bike arrived.
I did not destroy it OR myself in my fall one week before the race. My wound managed to heal just well enough so that I could go down on the aerobars during the race.
My hip did not flare up during the race, let alone that but that pain I usually get never surfaced, at all! Not when I was going uphill, or when I was pushing it hard on a flat section. Not a second, or a minute! That's how I finish this season of races. Incredible. I still felt it in Podersdorf in the last race before the world championship about 2 months ago. 

And of course, I could list another thousand things, like that I did not lose the chip on race morning, had the zipper come apart on my neoprene on race day morning, not find my sunglasses broken in my T1 bag, find my stuff all wet (like in Alcatraz) or that I did not forget to put socks into my biking shoes.

On top of that, there is a bunch of could'ves on the list, too. Like that I could have brought the arm warmers with me, my gloves, wind jacket or shoe covers - I just don't have enough race routine and I trusted the weather forecast: 28C/82F. By no chance was I prepared to have the temperature drop by 10 Celsius degrees a week before the race and to be standing around in 2-3C on the morning of race day, shivering with my teeth chattering, being scared shitless two hours before the race of not even being able to stand on the startline.

What if

Obviously, I could have added a thousand things on this list, too. Both positive and negative. Like why did I not drag my mom and András, her partner with me to show them EVERYTHING: where the finish line was to at least make sure that they would be waiting for me and cheering me on as I was running down the last couple of hundred meters?
I could pose another hundred questions like this, or make statements, to which looking back, it would be easy or just as difficult to come up with a viable solution. I will definitely do things differently next time. I gained. I came, I failed and learned from some of my huge mistakes. And some... for some I guess, like Tamár Torma said, you just gotta face them... face the unexpected and then make the right choice.

Let go! I am trying but I cannot, not just yet...

Post race, I had to be strong. I had one or two sleepless nights until I could fully let some painful stuff go. Why?
Just because.
It happened anyway.
AND despite that I managed to stay strong. 

Line up to the startline.
Feeling overjoyed, with sparkling eyes and singing along to the song blaring from the speakers: Levitating along with all the other age groupers 35-39 jumping around with me. I can still hear the song and us chiming in, some of us even dancing a little bit:

"moonlight,
you're my starlight
I need you all night,
 come on, dance with me
I'm levitating"

What a memory!! And all of a sudden, they are here. We, I mean WE get to see them coming out of the water. Who is making it out first? We are all guessing among ourselves who the top 3 will be: Lucy, Taylor Knibb and Flora Duffy. We all agree that Lucy will come first and yes, she is the first to appear but within a split second some Dutch(?) pro gets ahead of her and Flora comes out as 4th! What a huge experience to see them compete in person - a few meters away from us! See them come out with the same weary faces from the swim as they run up towards their bikes and start tearing off the neoprene!

Water

And finally, we get to go! Beep-beep-beep-beeeeeep: we can finally enter the water every 4-5 seconds maybe 5-6 of us at the same time. The lake temperature is really nice. It's about 55-60F, 18C, which gradually warms up every frozen inch of my body, and my toes, in particular. 
As always, I encountered some cross-swimmers and a really strong smell of gasoline lingered in the air that I found particularly unpleasant.

Bike

And I'm on the bike, let's get started! Should I have worn an additional layer.
No.
Yes.
No. Geri was right. Shit! I am stupid. I could have put it on. It's okay, I'll be warm soon. Until then, I'm just going to stay cold the same way. I mean it's not that bad after all, it's my fingers mainly. Let's shift gears. I can't, fuck. My fingers slip down from it, let's try again! Failed again. Shit, I can't believe this. Should I stop and ask somebody cheering on the side of the street to do it for me? No, you might get a DSQ for doing that!! Don't talk to anybody! Let's see - and I looked down only to find, Goodness gracious!! I don't need to shift... I have already, that's why I can't shift! Good heavens! How stupid can you possibly be? 
What a landscape, my God! To compete in this, is so amazing!! So either way.... I am here. On the race course. At the ... World Championship!! 
What a feeling!!

50km mark - the first girl with a flat. Oh no! There we go, it's beginning! It doesn't mean that you'll get one, calm down!
Snow Canyon - finally, 60something km mark. I did dress according to weather. Now it's better. I've started to feel my toes and fingers coming back to life. I only needed about 50km to get here, never mind! 
And she stops, she takes it off and changes, another flat!! And another one. Phew, calm-the-fuck-down. If you get one, you'll deal with it! Somehow. You have the ultra superfast exploding cartridge to pump air in the spare tyre if you need to, or somebody else will help you make good use of it. But everything's okay for now!!

Screw Snow Canyon, my - good - lord!! This is actually tough now. Kate was right along with the dude who told me so. I met him two days ago when I tested this section of the race course. I biked it naked... I mean without all the biking parts before it. Then it did not hurt at all, but now with all the elevation behind me, my legs are not yearning for this extra.

Watch out there will be a naked man. - there was a guy with a cardboard and this sign on the left side of the road, I didn't know how to make sense of. Americans are obviously very funny. But soon I understood. When I caught sight of a naked man on the right side of the road. 
"Don't stop, don't slow down or I'll take it off!" - he held another cardboard with this text on the side wearing nothing. I mean: NOTHING. Except for a cardboard weaved together Tarzan style to cover his butt and dickiejones. As I was slowly struggling my way up, I thought we earned to have some fun, as well, so I shouted over to him: But I want you to take it off! - well he probably did not hear me or ignored me on purpose, etiher way, he did not take it off. Well, that's for that! Even though, I was definitely not a speedy G on my way up.  

Considering that he picked a spot in the upper half of the section, where the challenge of the constant climb was beginning to get everybody’s better half, it was a true miracle that he never took the Tarzandress off.

Running

I wonder if they made it back? Their plan was to go home and come back down for the end of the bike. It would be great to see them. I mean: really great to see them. You have no idea how much it means to have somebody on the side of the course cheering for you in person. Quick change, heading to the loo. Loo, yes, the loo. First race of my life where I needed to use it after the bike. I drank a lot but to be honest, still not enough: did not hit the quantity I was aiming for, but it was enough to make me go to the bathroom. Which was a huge relief. Not when I noticed that one of my biking gloves was still on me together with both arm warmers. So as I dashed out of the mobile toilet, I tore these off and ran back to the volunteer I handed my bag down to and handed these over whilst asking:

"Can you put these into my bag?"
"Yes, of course. What’s your number?"
"It’s 586. Okay, 586-586!", she repeated to memorize it and as I ran away, she turned back to the volunteers handling the bags handing my stuff over and asking: Can you put these into the bag of 586?
How efficient!

Unlike me as I start running on the course uphill.
I’m weak. Powerless.
I did not overdo the bike portion. But then where did I go wrong?
Little sleep, 2 hours of shivering. But that should not be an issue. Not now.
Is this what I came here for? To fail? During the run?
It was one of my main goals to be able to enjoy this and end the race feeling like a human being. Not a trash. A monster. So what now?
All in the meantime, fellow triathletes keep passing me. And me? I passed some every now and then. This alone would not be an issue. I know I am not the fastest one out there. BUT knowing that I was going way below my capabilities, was killing me inside. I suddenly recall (Betty's) Peter's comment under my Facebook thread before the race as a last tip on his side “I hope you have a race that will leave you feeling satisfied." Well the thing is, that I might not end that way.
But that’s all there is.

Okay, so scratch that! I can't let this drag me down, I need everything towards the upper corner to get me to the finish line.

Let’s start over! No expectations. I wanted something, I wanted to run a certain time but I won’t be able to – the root cause, the would've, should've, could'ves do not even matter anymore.

What’s left?

Faith in myself.
And the fact that I can still run.
What's more... let's take it one more level down:
I will walk it, if I must. I'll still make it within 8 hours 30minutes.
Ground zero.

But I can still run, no walking necessary. It’ll just be a slow run.
Can I accept it? That I will have a much slower half marathon than what I was hoping for?
It's not easy and I'm not happy but I can. 

Let 
    everything
                     go.

I am here afterall!! Even though, it doesn’t feel nice to run, I still can. A moment to live for!
And, I mean... common for Chrissake: you’re going uphill, do not forget that and underestimate its significance. A short straight section after the first uphill, until another one surged – that is what the first 5-6km of the run looked like. Right after I started out, a side stitch developed, due to bad breathing technique, I reckon. Walking usually helps but I didn't want to switch. I’m not exactly galloping anyway, so with this speed, it’ll eventually pass, I knew from previous experience. And so it did. Not so long after the golf course, it slowly started to fade.
And I started to add a little speed going downhill, but going gently. “Just let me get halfway!” I prayed deep down. “This is great," I think to myself as I catch my first pace downhill on my watch: 4:44min/km. Good to know! No more looking at the watch! Just a huge relief, my running legs are coming back to life and I start to get a sense of my toes as they are warming up slowly. Awesome! 

I can suddenly see the faces of so many of my family and friends. For a second, I’m sure they are checking my numbers live through the app and they are happy to see me coming back to life, speeding up. They might not know that I am going downhill but it does not really matter anyway. They are probably happy for me that it’s not so bad after all. – Of course, I had no idea at this point in time that the majority of my cheering fans already fell asleep during the bike portion.

All of you out there cheering for me … I could see your faces for a minute

I could see how Attila is saying: yes, yes, yes!! Go for it, girl!!
As coach Csabi is encouraging me: I'm sure it doesn’t feel nice to have to eat again, but this gel is what you need now, it's the right thing to do! – I hear him say as I fumble into my back pocket to reach for a gel… SIS, later a Sponser ultra, then another SIS, half a banana times two. I keep sipping ISO from my soft flask and as I reach for a cup of Coke at an aid station, I recall Tata, my second race in 2019 and Szandi’s advice: 1 sip of water, 1 sip of coke, 1 sip of water.
I can see my family: Lili, Andrew and Julia looking at the app cheering for me, see how my sister, Lilla and her husband, Gergő are trying to put Zelda back to sleep: she woke up and is crying again, at the same time they are tracking me in the app and cheer along; see how Kitti and Lawrence are following that little dot on the app moving faster and faster: Not much left, keep going!

I can see several of my tritrend team mates also happy for the obvious speed I’m gaining: That’s it Nusi! You’re a stallion!, Attila, Metzner and Zoli might be following me, too. Let alone Kat, who was here last year. I thought a lot about her throughout the course! I can see our swim coach, Geri encouraging me like he did in Podersdorf during the run: Nice form, keep it up!
My high school friends: Andi, Zita and Reka are also there, I can almost see them standing on the side of the run course: That’s it!! You CAN DO THIS!!!
Like I can see Sanyi looking somewhat startled at the numbers as I am speeding up: Yes, this is it! She will do it again! She’s speeding up!, he says keeping his fingers crossed as he follows the ever faster miles. Maybe my colleague, Bodzsó is also checking the app here and there, Zsolt and Kati, too, maybe? And well, even if they do not, they are all with me deep down.

What’s pushing my toes?

What’s this? It’s still hurting my toes. What on earth Is this? Oh, might be the salt tablets I threw into my shoes…. OR the Algopyrin (headache pill) I wrapped up in aluminium foil. It must be that since I put the salt tablets into my biking shoes and found them later at home lying around on the ground. So that means one thing: it is the algopyrin, which - thank God - I did not need. It’s bothering me a little bit, my left toes bump into as it moves around downhill - should I stop and take it out? No-no! If need be, it can push me during the entire run. I am not going to stop! Noway! I'll live.

And here we are, where I got off the bike. Halfway point soon, I guess?
Soon my ass!
Another painful 2-3km ahead. Damn it! Should have studied the course better to know it.
Good lord, I mean, is this really neverending?! I can’t believe it.
At last…. "And here comes Anna Nagyházi-Sooky from Hungary!" The announcer says and I get a sense of 15-seconds' fame, even though, it faints fast, it felt great to hear my name in the loudspeakers like that.
And I'm out.
SECOND lap and it’s over.

O V E R

This whole thing is going to come to an end. No more running after that.
That’ll be it. The finish.
After reaching halfway, I put myself back together so much so that I managed to speed up even on the uphill sections. Later nicely contradicted by the numbers I saw on Garmin but the feeling was the opposite and felt promising and nice.
It was beyond nice:
Priceless! 

I might even be able to get a half marathon with an average of 5:30min/km. I started passing competitors as more and more of them arrived to the course. Every single person, who walked or whom I saw switch from run to walk, I patted on their shoulders and encouraged them: “Come on, keep going! You're doing a great job!!”
The second lap went pretty well – all in all. I ran, I ran faster and encouraged people to stay strong and I think I could even get close to enjoying it. Csabi, who accompanied me to Alcatraz and Lahti, as well, was basically standing there on the side of the run course: Common, common, that’s it!!! Just one more lap left!!!!

I still looked and hoped to find my mom and András in the crowd on the side of the course but in vain. They were nowhere to be seen. Tried to keep my head up. I’m sure they are out there somewhere cheering, hoping I would be able to do this: to finish!
"I’m sure everything is okay, they just cannot find me and what can I do after all? Something must have gone wrong. But this is it," it dawned on me. 

And as I make the last 2km and within that the loops around the park, then start to come back up, I know that I have less than a mile left. To get more local support, I shouted over to a volunteer: "it's my last mile!"
"Oh wow, it's her last mile, here you go, straight to the finish line!! You can do this!!" Her words are pushing me forward even faster than before until there is not much left...

the last turn is coming up… I'll turn left, and in about 200 meters, I'll cross the finish line. And then it’ll all be over. As I am making that turn, my eyes fill up with tears as I bite my lips, struggling with my emotions.