Pain Day 1

It was brought to my attention that all this eating would need an outsource to burn all these calories. This year's chosen method...triathlon. Last fall was a rude awakening as to just how out of shape I had let myself slip. Additionally, in the rash decision to complete my first triathlon last fall, a couple stress factured shins hindered the exercising further. Finally, the new year, a pair freshly healed shins, and the loss of ~50 pounds helped to start the "tri" season off for 2009. The first of the year was the Copper Creek Tri (http://www.coppercreektri.com). A friend from work, Mr. Daniel Sheldon, also decided to participate, this being his first ever. Race day was preceeded by Grimes Funtastic Days, which wrapped up the saturday night before with...fireworks. Typically, fun and enjoyable for everyone, unless you have to wake up at 5am the next morning and compete in a test of manly exertion, pushing yourself to the limit. Woohoo for fireworks!  I finally fell asleep somewhere around 1am only to have race day arrive on June 14, 2009 in a pea soup fashion fog that reduced visibility to a couple of yards.  Then on the drive to the race location, while in a sleepy stuper, I drove passed the exit. Murmuring profanities and cursing the blasted fog, I may have exceeded the speed limit in order to make it in time. After making it one piece and setting up the transition with my gear, it was time to get suited up for the event. Not wanting to spend an additional couple of hundred dollars on a tri-wetsuit, I recycled an old SCUBA diving wetsuit. However, in the many years since my last dive, I had apparently out grew the suit. So I customized it, cut off the arms and legs. Stylish. Remember the fog? Well, it ended up delaying the start of the event by 45 minutes. But in the meantime, the pre-race meeting and safety talk was wrapped up and the event was kicked off with...FIREWORKS!!! YIPPY!!! The race finally started when the fog lifted enough to see the safety kayaks in the water, and Dan and I tread water to the starting line. I make it through the swim, 750 meters, in roughly 13 minutes. But, while in the transition going into the bike leg, Mr. Sheldon saunters in A LOT faster than anticipated (sand bagger) and completly puts me into a fluster. So much so that I forgot the ever important cushioned bike gloves and sun shades. Additionally, out of the gate on the bike I start to pedal, pedal, pedal...metal on metal crunching sound. Not good. I look down and somehow I managed to derail the gear chain AROUND a pedal and almost break the chain. In the midst of fixing the mangled mess, my thumb was introduced to the gear sprocket. Apparently, my thumb managed to insult said gear sprocket, because the next thing I know said sprocket is IN said thumb. Pain..and blood. Awesome. All of this takes place in about a minute and I manage to get the bike operational and moving again. So let's recap. No gloves, no sun shades, and now I have a bleeding thumb. More importantly, Dan just gained an entire minute on me. The race took place in a Des Moines suburb called Pleasant Hill. Apparently, the naming father of the town never experienced his "Pleasant" hills on a bike, really, they're not pleasant. The bike course was 12.5 miles and consisted of three painfully steep hills. Dan caught and passed me on the first major uphill portion of the bike, about 4 miles into the ride. After the turnaround and about 2 miles from the end of the bike is the worst of said painfully steep hills. You (meaning I) cruise on the bike on a pretty flat stretch for about two miles and are able to maintain about 20 miles per hour. But when you get to the morale breaker, you're (meaning I)immediatly reduced to 7 mph. At this point, Dan has extended his lead to about a half mile, but is still advancing as I attempt to advance up hamburger hill and my legs are reduced to lean chuck. I make it to the transition and the heckle team, Mr. Peterson and Mr. "Yogurt" inform me I'm approximately 3 minutes behind Dan. Lovely, nothing better than playing catch up on the last leg with a throbbing bloody, greasy thumb. Luckily, I spotted a bright red bike shirt about a half mile ahead...let the chase begin. The run is a 5k (3.1 mile) jaunt through a moderately hilly neighborhood with quite a few bends and turns that break line of sight. Half mile, no sight of the shirt and my calves are tightier than rubber bands.  One mile, still no sign, starting to feel not so good about my chances of beating Mr. Sheldon. One and half miles, BINGO, I see the competition walking and I've gained some ground to within 1/4 mile. I catch the hare at about two miles who has been reduced to running and then walking short stints. We run together about a quarter mile, before he had to walk again. However, pride kept me from walking (HISTORY NOTE: During last year's first-ever triathlon I was reduced to walking the entire run and was subsequently beat...bad...by the current member, Mr. Peterson, of the heckle team) and I finished the run, by running. Dan ran across the finish approximately 45 secs later. All in all it was a good second attempt on my part, and set a new personal best. Even more so, because I was able to run without any signs or hints of shin damage. Excellent.