I am not sufficiently inspirational, fast, poetic, or funny to write a report that could rival those that have swelled my inbox this week, so thanks to all for the great stories. That said, those who know me well were definitely amused by the fact that I was able to survive swimming through goose poop, and biking and running through hill and dale, only to get hurt falling off the stupid curb after the race. It was reassuring to know that the EMT’s continue to respond with lightening speed even when the race is over, though they were easily assured that the only reason I lay on the ground so long was because I was laughing too hard to get up. Whatever wisps of pride were left after parading this body around in form-fitting neoprene and bright yellow lycra were certainly smushed by my butt as it hit the pavement.
Up to - and even including - that point, it was a great race for me. Any time I cross a finish line vertical & moving and don’t leave by ambulance, it’s a good race. I’ve also learned that at my place in the food chain of triathlons, I have the most fun when I forget all the things I meant to do and wished I could do, and just relax and enjoy the day, though for me my most important goal is to be out there representing Team Fight, so that made it a win and an A+ race for me. I was happy that I was healthy enough to run some of it this year since I couldn’t run last year at all, with a 12-minute drop in my time to boot, though I was admittedly bummed to realize how much less I’d improved than I’d thought at first, forgetting that my Garmin stopped each time I paused for an elimination break. And yes, I really needed to stop... I don’t do THAT in my shorts, though I did wish it on the guy who yelled to me to “catch a ride” as I was slowly wending my way up one of the first rollers. I also have an increased understanding as to why folks tend not to recommend buying a new bike a week before a race, but it sure felt good, and I've gotta break it in sometime anyway....
I may live far away in distant MoCo, but racing out of Centennial Park feels like home turf to me, and I’m so grateful for the support of so many before, during, and after, not least of which was my angel-of-the-hour, Loretta, who ran me home and left me truly inspired.
Swim: 31:27. About 2 minutes slower than last year. I really hate crowds. And neoprene.
T1: 6:25. I had to pee. Slowly.
Bike: 1:47:02. Weaving takes time (Sorry, Moe). So does learning how to shift, apparently.
T2: 2:06. Pretty good for me.
SlogJog: 1:25:22. Just grateful for stocked portapotties on the course... and still faster than last year.