That was one of the least enjoyable swims I've ever had. I started out okay, standing in the water talking with other women. I even met the woman who had been in front of me at I Love the Tavern and jumped over the snake in the path. What a coinky-dink! Anyway, I got water in my suit, felt good with the temperature (about the same as my parents' pool), and was ready to go. All started out well until hair slipped out of my swim caps and got caught in the velcro of my suit. Now, I haven't been swimming in my wetsuit in a year and four or five months, so it was taking some getting used to. I forgot about the hair and that I needed to either braid it or clip it up. In any case, I pulled it free, and that action made me realize how suffocating the suit is. My friend likened it to wearing a giant condom. I suppose the comparison fits, though I've never worn a condom, being female and all. That moment brought a crushing wave of panic and the feeling of choking. Breathing became incredibly difficult. I wanted to stop and rip the suit off! I probably would have done better without it, anyway. I just kept swimming and breathing, trying to find my rhythm. It wasn't until I hit the current going along the base that I found it, sort of. I did much better, relaxed more, and quit focusing on the wetsuit. And then I had to fight the current to come back in and I lost it a little. The bigger problem was my foggy goggles and the wide-spreadness of the pack. The current was really washing people down, so I had to stop, lift my goggles, and think about where I was going. Then I had to go there. Once there, I was so excited to be able to walk and loosen the zipper on my suit. Happiest moment all day!

Practice in my wetsuit more, put my hair in braids, not panic, swim without the wetsuit...

Not the best T1 for me. I had lots of grass to get off before pulling on two pairs of socks, which are a must for a 10k run. I took it slow coming in, knowing I had a long race (or I thought I did) and should walk and calm down while I could. After the swim, I was a little stressed out.

Run coming in, get the wetsuit off faster, not worry about the grass...

My portion of the bike race didn't last long. I came out and had a great start. I was feeling very comfortable on the bike. I was a little concerned about some of the hills, but sure I would finish the bike. The swim was over, and that was the hardest part. Right?

Well, maybe. Maybe not. I made it up the first big hill, which was awful. I probably averaged only 7 or 8 mph on that sucker. I huffed and I puffed and I made it. I started asking myself, "How many more of those do I have to go?" I figured I would end up walking one or two, though I hoped the downhills before the ups would help me out a lot. Not that I'd ever get a chance to find out.

Four and a half miles in, I begin to hear a very loud, persistant, and rythmic *pssst* *pssst* *pssst*. I knew it was my tire, and I kind of knew right then that my race was over. I pulled over and hoped off the survey the damage. My worst fear was confirmed... it was my rear tire. I am clueless about the back tire. I don't know how to take it off and get it back on, despite the fact I have been shown many times now. It's like Algebra... it doesn't add up in my head. As I looked at the tire, I realized that it didn't just have a single hole in it, but many. Some big, some not so big, but way more than one. I wondered if it was even worth my trying to fix it, or if the holes would pinch a new tube and pop that one, too. No harm in trying, though, right? If it didn't work, my race was over. If I didn't try, my race was over. And if it worked, I'd be slow, but I'd do it. I really really wanted to do this race, to beat this course.

I tried. It took forever to get the back wheel off, but I got it. Then it took even longer to get the tire off and the tube out. I was careful with the new tube, took my time putting it in and triple-checked it to make sure it was all in the tire, trying my best to keep it from pinching when I inflated it. It looked good. So I used the CO2 cartridge to pump it up until it felt like it was full. Success! I was excited, thinking I might still have a chance with this race. I might not be last, either, as the last biker had yet to pass. I started trying to get the wheel back on, but that was a real challenge. I couldn't do it. I couldn't even get it into place, much less get the chain back on. I struggled onward and then I thought I was saved. The SAG support arrived! The guy got out of the car to help me put the wheel back on. He answered his phone and was told he had to pick up another cyclist with a flat. He said he's be there after he helped me. Just before he hung up, *POP* went the tire, and my dreams. After half an hour of hard and frustrating work, all my work came to nothing.

Best I can figure is that it was over-inflated. I never even got it back on. I just looked at the guy and started crying. One Olympic distance gone because of Hanna and the lack of a swim, and now this one because of a flat tire. I had no more spares. The disappointment was crushing. We loaded my bike in the truck and drove off.

I'll hand it to the guy; he didn't let me sit there and pout. He got me talking about things and made me work for him. It was my job to ask people walking their bikes if they needed help. We stopped for one stranded cyclist (another flat), but someone else was coming to get her. We stopped for two more, but they were almost done fixing and then got on their way. We picked up the other guy and headed to Food Lion for ice. From the store, it was back to transition, after stopping to ask about another 4 flats. Yes, there were that many people suffering as I was.

Once back at transition, the other guy and I unloaded our bikes, reassembled them (mine had neither wheel by this point), and headed off. He was done, but I was determined to do the run. I didn't get up at 4 in the morning to swim and go for a very short ride. I came to race, and even though it wouldn't be the race I wanted or planned on, or even one I could officially win, it was a race I was going to finish.

Not get a flat tire, d'uh. And while I'm at it, I wouldn't have had the second one, either. Now that it is established that I don't know what I'm doing, maybe next time I'll just wait for SAG support.

I didn't really have a T2. I never crossed the mat coming from the bike to T2. I just walked in, put the bike back in place, took a drink of water, grabbed some Guu (by this time I was hungry), and bolted out of transition.

I started out with an awesome pace! Since I wasn't tired from the bike, I was blowing by people. I forced myself to slow it down some, knowing I had plenty of time. Glad I did, too. Mile one was great, mile two was a nice steady, slightly slower, pace. Around mile three, I had a side stitch and it took a mile to work that out by walking, calm breathing, massaging, and stretching. Once I was free, I slipped right into my nice, easy stride and enjoyed the run. I was everybody's cheerleader, saying something good and encouraging to everybody I passed, whether we were running in the same direction or not. Once I got passed the side stitch, I didn't walk anymore and kept chugging on.

During the last mile, I could see this woman in pink in front of me. I decided my goal was to catch her. I hit the turnaround and started on my last half mile. She was maybe 50-75 yards ahead of me. I quickened my pace and started gaining. It was like a game: could I do it? As we got close to the line, I was about to start my sprint, and I knew I had her. She was still 10 yards ahead of me, and was kicking it up a notch, too, but I was ready to let loose. I also had the advantage of not having the bike ride. Then her two little boys came out to run with her for a few strides and give her high fives. They were both 4-6 years old and it was quite cute. I hesitated, thinking, "Should I do this in front of her boys, or no? WOuld it be rude?" And then I decided to go for it. They were watching me, knew I was gaining on their mom, and encouraging her onward. It wasn't like my coming in before her would hurt her in any way: I wasn't really racing officially anymore and we were in different age groups. So I took off. In a few strides I pulled even with her and then passed her, gobbling up the ground with my feet. People started cheering like crazy, yelling for both of us to go. She picked up, but I was steaming onward. And then there was the finish line, just around the turn. And I took the wrong turn. Seriously. I ended up going behind a tent and getting stuck behind a fence. In the seconds it took me to backtrack and get out, the woman in pink passed me and made it to the line before me.

Karma.

I ran into the woman in line for the bathroom a few minutes later. I was only going in to wash the bike grease off my hands. I told her I debated hanging back since her boys were watching, but she said the speed and ability I had, plus the timing, to do that was amazing. She really enjoyed it, and her boys were screaming and enjoying it, too. I told her I felt bad, and also informed her that I had DNF on the bike, so I wasn't as tired. She assured me that I shouldn't feel bad, that it was a race. And fun. Then we laughed about my wrong turn that let her catch me. Apparently several people made the same mistake I did, so I don't feel so dumb.

Not make a wrong turn at the end. Other than that, not much. I clapped, I cheered, I smiled, I ran, I finished... what more could you ask for after your race is already royally screwed.

Walked around, sat on my butt and talked to people. Nothing very exciting. Watched the awards ceremony.


Oh, gee, that's a tough one. Two flat tires on the bike! Oh, and a wetsuit that was determined to choke me to death.


Well, since I didn't get to see the whole course, I can't judge everything, but I liked what I saw. Very good race and certainly one I would consider doing again, if only to say I did the whole thing! It was fun, despite the unfortunate turn of events for me. No regrets.