While standing in line, a fellow competitor was nice enough to inform us that pool swims were much more messy than open water. While seemingly counter intuitive, it proved understandable as my start time approached. Because I registered this morning, my start time was not based on any estimated swim time. Instead, I was lumped in with all the other race day registrations, many of whom proved to be rather agressive swimmers. At one point, two of these sharks passed me at the same time, around one of the turns.

Those bastards.

Felt bad for nice lady in front of me - I'm not sure she made it.

In all seriousness, for having no real swim training to speak of, I can't complain. Good thing I recently found a great pool.

Hmm, maybe . .. I don't know . . . SWIM a bit more???

The swim knocked the crap out of me - wasn't sure how the race was going to go at this point.

Thanks to whomever (actually think it was Artemis) that recommended rolling socks off before while setting things up. They went on real easy.

For the benefit of the cynical folks on this site, I silently mocked the bucket brigaders.

Practice.

Now, I'm still not fast, but 17.7 mph is nearly 1.5 mph better than I have ever averaged on a similar length ride. Holy cow!!

Probably due to several factors:
1. Race day adrenaline
2. Nice pace booty early in the race, and bike lust that made me want to keep up with the "pros".
3. Closed course
4. Hmmmmm, maybe it was the fact that I asked to borrow a gentleman's pump that contained an actual guage! Found out that my typical "push down on the seat" method of checking tire pressure had resulted in both tires being rather under-pressurized. Funny, right? Fixing this couldn't have made that big a difference, right?

Can I tell you something rather immature? In the first couple miles, I got passed by what any red-blooded male, married or otherwise, would have considered "hot pace booty" (#1 above). However, she was going so fast there was no way I was going to keep pace for very long. Instead I concentrated on "racing my race" and as I've said it turned out rather well. I was passed by many, but I also passed several people. I was feeling better the farther I was into the course, and was faster coming in than out (and that was with an uphill return profile). Anyway, who should I spy at about mile 12 or 13, but cute little pace booty!

Hey, I know there's a whole "shouldn't feel good about passing a girl" thing if you're a guy. But again, I'm not that mature. Passing that pace booty felt good.

Finished strong . . . but probably put too much effort into the bike. Oh well - 'm not complaining.


well, you know, more training and what not.

Didn't feel too great getting off the bike, but otherwise things went fine.

Ha, maybe untie my shoes before I lay them out???

Okay, so this proved to be a bigger mental test than I anticipated. I tried desperately to convince myself not to breakdown into a walk.

But it's amazing what a motivator the thought of a supporting wife and kids can be.

I wasn't fast, by any means - but I never stopped. I wanted to be able to tell them that I had RACED the whole race.

I was a lot slower than I would have like - but I think that was balanced by how much faster than normal I was on the bike. Can't complain.

Walked around, had some water and bananas. The bagel nearly made me puke.


Ha - body weight per chance? Lack of training? Take your pick.


A great little race. It was well organized, and I could see myself doing it again.