There was no swim. The river tested high for bacteria two days prior. So they had us run a tiny sprint instead--they said was a quarter of a mile, but I'm not quite convinced it was that long. I was really disappointed not to get to use my wetsuit in a race.
My time was 1:02.

No wetsuit or goggles, tri top was already on--though I refused to run in my helmet as some people did :) I was second to last into T1 and dead last out.

I would take the time to put on my biking gloves. On a really hot day like today with a ride just long enough, my hands got really sweaty and things got a little slicker than I was completely comfortable with.

It was uphill out of transition and up to the loop course. I was last of my AG and it wasn't too long before the international men started passing us (3 minutes between waves). Up the sizable hill and around several corners but then came to the underpass, which we'd been warned about before the race and sure enough--officials were everywhere. About four of them beforehand shouting, "Single file, sharp right turn". I slowed but there was no one ahead of or beside me to worry about. As I did the righthand turn, I realized it was sharper than I'd expected so I swung a bit wider than I'd intended. And some aero-helmeted disc-wheeled jackass actually cut INSIDE and passed me on the right without so much as a shout. Of course, I was cutting back to the right where I knew I should be and he was pulling towards the left, so his rear wheel clipped my front wheel and I shouted "Oh shit" as I went off the road. To his credit, he turned to see if I went down (I didn't--luckily there were no rocks in the small ditch beside the road and I pulled back on), then shook his head like he was irritated at ME! I was pissed. I had to keep reminding myself that everything was fine and just to keep racing--it happened in front of at least three officials and since I'd shouted, I couldn't imagine how they'd have missed it anyway. But it wound me up. The second two laps were uneventful and I knew I was going at least my goal pace of 17mph. I still didn't pass anyone in my AG, though. And though I was drinking Heed, I don't think I drank enough to make up for the fact that I didn't eat anything. I was paranoid about losing control of the bike by letting go even with one hand after the near crash.

Slow down more coming up to blind turns. I should have backed off my pace too.

I actually turned in at the wrong rack and had to pick up and spin my bike and get to the next row. Chucked Sports Beans in my back pocket and switched into my cap, one last chug of plain water and I was off.

Look at the numbers at the end of the row--I didn't realize how many spaces there were, so my math was off which resulted in my wrong turn.

This was where things really went south. I started out alright and kept pace to the halfway point, though I was really getting miserable by then. The clouds had completely burned off and it was sunny and steamy and I was breathing harder than I wanted to. I tried to eat my sports beans before the first aid station so I could wash them down. I ate about 3. Drank. Next aid station, I didn't even get them out, I couldn't eat them. Drank Gatorade and dumped water on my head. Next one, two waters--one for my head, one to drink. At the halfway point, I thought it was going to be ok now--downhill, right? I kept slogging. But there were just enough flat/slight uphill that it never felt like the relief I'd been counting on. I was flagging badly. I asked a volunteer between aid stations where I was at (confusion was due to a posted 6.51 mile run on the website, but 7.4 and 7.2 mile signs at various places at the actual site!) and she said about two more miles. I said, "Oh shit." The wheels fell off and I started walking. I let myself go a little way, then tried jogging again. Got a little further, then walked again. I tried jogging once more after that. Then I just walked. It was miserable and I was embarrassed whenever I passed a volunteer or official and all I could think was, "I'm going to do Pumpkinman?! I'm going to do IMFL? I can't even do THIS!" And I tried to shut that voice down as fast as I could because there was clearly no help to be had there, but I couldn't make myself run again. I knew I was coming to the end and I saw the photographer getting the last on-course shot and I saw him looking at me and not snapping and I figured he thought I would run at least a little bit to make it look good for the picture. I thought, "Fuck it" and gave him a smile and kept walking. He snapped when I smiled and said in a very sympathetic voice that it was just around the corner and down the hill. I said that was when I'd start running again. At the top of the tiny hill where I could see a few spectators left at the finish line, I jogged again and I jogged across the line and tried to smile for the finish line photographer. They took my chip and I stumbled out of the chute to the water bottles.

Start way slower--I vastly underestimated the effect of the heat and uphills. Take a gel instead of something solid so that perhaps I could get it down.

I walked with my husband for a little bit, but when I bent to get another water bottle, I tilted and decided I'd do best to sit for a little while, so I did. I didn't really stretch, just walked when I felt I could.


Overcooked the bike, didn't fuel, hit the beginning too hard.


I overheard that they'd had to cancel the swim 3 of the last five years--which leads me to think that some alternate decisions need to be made. But people were very nice and helpful and the race officials were a very active presence.