The swim was great, if a little chilly. The first transition was somewhat slow, but I'm not too worried about it. I managed to get everything done and on the bike without falling over (a big deal for me). Off I go, heading directly into the wind and am thankful. This means that the wind will be ninety degrees in both of the long leg directions. This short stretch is the only headwind I’ll have. I ride and ride, and lots of people pass. I have pig ears and a curly-que tail attached to my helmet, so this entertains me, and apparently a lot of other people too, judging from their comments. Almost everybody that passes says something positive: “Good job!” “Keep it up you’re doing great!” “Love your ears!” “I need that helmet!”.
I look around and enjoy the scenery, I’ve never been that far down the island before. I try to remember to thank everybody along the way; the volunteers are tremendous. At some point I drop my bottle and have to stop and go back to get it. Penalties can be assigned for dropping stuff. Despite that, I come across enough spare inner tubes to start a resale shop. I am tempted to pick them up, but resist the urge. I look for Tab, knowing that he must be on the other side of the road and eventually find him and wave. He is easy to spot in his bright yellow Army jersey. He is happy to see me and yells something that sounds a lot like “EAT!” So I pull out my sandwich and have my own little bike picnic. At the first aid station, my bladder and I suddenly decide we need to make a strategic pit stop. When I come out, I accept the gel thingy that someone is passing out. It says it’s peach-banana. Okay, so maybe I’ll try it. I get about two thirds of it down, and force down more Gatorade. I actually pass someone!
Finally I make the turn and am on my way back. I finish my sandwich, get another gel from the second aide station. This says something about java – how bad can that be? I force that one down too, despite it tasting like hundred-year-old hotel coffee. More water required.
At the seawall, I pick up a tag along. Some guy out for his beach bike ride decides he needs to ride along and chat. I finally have to tell him that he will get me disqualified if the judges think he is riding with me. I idley wonder if that's his M.O. for picking up dates -
Near the transition, I spy Linda Sue and Reed. She’s got a bike horn that she is honking and they are holding up signs. I’m so happy to see them!
I re-rack my bike, toss my helmet, reach into my cooler for my bag of fruit, stuff it in my now empty back pocket, and head back out. About two miles into the run, I realize that I’ve forgotten my race number belt. I can’t do much at this point, but I know I’ll pass it again and maybe I can get it. I run and walk and run and walk. The aid stations are wonderful. They are handing out water and Gatorade, pretzels and de-fizzed coke (yuck). I grab some water and dump it on my head. Some of the volunteers dump more on my head. Luckily this is an aid station I pass twice so they do it again! Later there are wet sponge stops. I take those and tuck them into the shoulders of my jersey, giving them up for fresh ones at the next stop. Lots of aid stations means lots of water on my head and Gatorade in my mouth.
I catch up with a girl who has just told someone she lost seven pounds training up for this event. I have to ask her how. As she tells me about her coach and nutrition plan, I pull out my bag of food. I’m hungry. I offer her some and she takes a few pieces of melon. After we chat a while, she picks back up to her pace and I stay at mine. I think that second turnaround is never going to appear, but it does with cheering volunteers all the way. I’m almost done now. I feel pretty good and I keep running and walking and running. I try to time it right so that I can run all the way past the transition to the finish line. It’s a little further than I thought, but I keep running, and, finally, I hear them announce my name at the finish line. I’m so excited! I’ve done it!
Age, I’ve decided, is relative. I’m relatively old. But I’m also relatively fit and healthy. The age war will continue, but for now, I have the upper hand. I also have my first war medal. And, most importantly, braggin’ rights!
Right now, however, what I'm really focused on is... you guessed it... A Cheeseburger!
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