I always start in front, swimming is my strongest portion and I find that kicking people in the face is a great stress reliever. This was the first time I'd done roundhousing in a wetsuit though. I should have listened to myself and gone without but everyone was wearing one and I wanted to be buoyant like the cool kids. The restricted feeling of my arms and chest made me feel like I was racing in an outfit comparable to this:
|At least she's wearin some sweet shades. Elmo bitches.|
I was super excited about this, I had just gotten my front derailleur *finally* and couldn't wait for the ability to change gears on some Florida mountains. What I hadn't considered was that hill #1 was going to be 0.3 seconds outside of T1... Helmet, check. Body glide, check. Anal lube - damn it. There began Clermonts rape of my ego. I couldn't figure out whether to go hard or conserve energy. Hill #1 hard. Hill 2, hold back... eek gad I'm getting passed by beer gut guy, GO GO GO! Wait, conserve energy, no whammy, no whammy. Oh pretty blue suit girl looks strong, I'll follow her - she looks good in her trisuit, I wonder what she weighs...wait did I forget breakfast - damn. And so it went for 25 neurotic miles. Fast forward to T2....
This is when things got real bad. I'm a slow runner to begin with but never in my wildest did I see 5 stops during a 10k happening. Not only was I now energy deprived but my feet were tightening up like rocks. Another very flattering race pic:
After the race I got a lot of good jobs and "it was a learning experience" which makes me feel like I rode the short bus to the race. Where'd I put that helmet again? But as much as my pride was hurt, I did indeed learn. My take away lessons were to practice better nutrition, test my equipment BEFORE races, find a solid pace on the bike and get some flippin insoles. At least I got some free pizza and bling. Count down begins to St. Anthonys.