what to say about this, which set the tone for the entire race. The swim to the first buoy was gravy - I mean I was flying with good navigation. Rounded the first turn tight and was right in the middle of the pack. I was feeling good, so good that I decided to "navigate" every 15-20 strokes as opposed to every 5 - bad, bad idea. The next time I pop my head up I am about 50meters off course with the surf board dude telling me I am going the wrong direction. Thanks. I am sure its a lot easier to navigate when you are aboard a freaking surf board - dude. So I try to spot the next buoy down and swim to it. Stroke, stroke, stroke, navigate...WTF? I am now at least 75meters off course. Put the head down and swim "directly" at the yellow buoy. This time navigation was a little better, made it to the buoy and rounded it, not nearly as tight as the last time. Stroke, stroke, stroke, navigate...WTF? I am a least 75meters off course again! I curse to myself under the water and try to catch the madness that is the wave after me; stroke, stroke, stroke, navigate...uh oh. I look up and have no idea where I am. My goggles are fogged, and all I see is a orange buoy about 100m away. Was this the one I just rounded? Was this the next buoy? I panicked; not being good at treading water (or doing anything in water except showering), I start to panic. I looked around and saw nobody, I had to shout for help. I felt like I was lost in open sea (like the movie). Just then, like a beacon, a man wearing a big floppy hat in a canoe comes over and shouts to me "grab the end!" I reach up, feeling a wave of relief rush over me. "You're almost done, look!" He points to the east, and I see salvation. Dammit, I came this far, I am not letting a little panic attack keep me from getting to the bike, the only damn thing I can do with any competence in this god forsaken sport. I let go, tell the man in the floppy hat (more like begged him) "stay with me!" And with that, off I went again. Stroke, stroke, stroke, navigate...I look up and find that another guy in a canoe is moving his boat to the north to keep me from swimming in that direction. I swear without those boats I probably would have swam to the bridge and marina that we ran by on the run course. I try to correct myself; the only thing I see is a big yellow penske truck, and I make a bee line for it. As I approach it I realize that I have about 200meters that I have to swim to the south just to make it out of the water. The spectators must have been thinking, what the hell is this guy doing? I swim towards the stairs that would save me, and end this terrible odyssey. Disoriented I reach the stair case where wonderful volunteers helped me up. I was dizzy, could barely balance, but I made it.

Learn how to navigate. It is hard to complete your goal time if you swim an additional 500meters, swallow a gallon of sea water and have a panic attack.

Still dizzy I manage to find my bike amongst the myriad of other rides. Getting the suit off was fine. I gave my feet a squirt with some water and slipped on my shoes. With my helmet on I took another gel and out of transition I went. Once on the bike, still a little dizzy, I had trouble clipping into the pedals. Once I was in I took it easy up until past the cobbles, where I clicked the shoe straps to tighten up for the effort ahead.

Swim better so I am not so confused when I arrive in transition

Not having my PT, I had to do some good intrinsic pacing. I knew that in my 53x15-16 I would be around my FTP. So shifted to the said cogs and off I went. Passed EVERYBODY; except 4 guys who were not only in sweet steeds, but clearly had excellent bike fits. Riding the C'dale may actually have worked out nice in course with so many corners. I took all corners at excellent speed, rarely dropped below 20. Some cars caused me to slam on the brakes, but overall I felt great, especially considering the swim.

Have a true TT rig; and swim better. Do some riding with the tri shorts.

Here is where I really screwed myself. Knowing that I didn't take in enough nutrition, before heading out I took one last gel...that sat in my stomach like the proverbial time bomb.

Get some of those yankz things, eat more on the bike.

Well, that time bomb just sat there ticking. I had never felt cramps in my stomach that bad, and on top of that I had to use the restroom (no, I cannot let fly the golden shower whilst on the bike, or on myself). I planned a run 4 walk 1 system that usually gives me about an 8:30 mile. But the cramps were so bad. And even better, my rear felt like someone had just shoved an electric caddle prod up my whoopsie. I made it to the first port o let...ah, relief. My first mile ticked by in over 15minutes (including said break). I was able to pick up the pace most of the rest of the way in, but that time bomb just sat there, waiting to go off. Had to stifle the urge to hurl several times, but tried to push through it. As I made that final turn, I felt so relieved it was almost over. Down the finishing chute I must have looked like death. But it was over, and I had finished my first triathlon. Thank God.

Eat more on the bike. No, I would still use the port-o-john (just hope next time there is no line). Not take a gel right before the run. Get a more padded seat for triathlons.

Got some water and the oh so wonderful iced blue towels. Made my way towards the transition zone to collect my stuff and get changed. Then waited for Lisa to finish...saw Sue and Lucy make their way down the finish line then headed for some grub.


The swim set everything up. Had the swim gone according to plan (and I felt like I was flying, I think a sub 30 was very possible) I feel everything else would have fell into place better. Had I felt fresher off the swim I probably could have lopped another minute off the bike, and with better nutrition I should be able to run much closer to my true ablilities. But these are all excuses, and excuses are like, well you know the saying. St. Anthony's, you won this time, next time, I am making you my bitch.


They really need something better than papa j's za in the post race tent. I a mean, seriously.