Swim Bike Run

As I promised yesterday, here are some of the pictures husband-dear took during the triathlon. Not all of them are very flattering, in fact, I might as well warn all of you now that very few of them, well, none of them actually, make me look good. I'm sweaty, red-faced, and wearing shorts and a bathing suit. I can think of better premises for a nice photograph, but I guess you won't find those at a triathlon. In spite of this, the pictures do give a good idea of what a triathlon is like. So enjoy (or shudder - take your pick!)

The three musketeers. At this point we were all chipped, bodymarked, "racked"(meaning your bikes are in position) and ready to go. Well sort of anyway. I mean, you can only be so ready at 6:45 in the morning















Inside the TA, or the Transition Area. I was doing some last minute check-ups ("are the valves really tight enough?") and making sure all of my things were lined up in the proper order for the transition. And no, that is not being neurotic, honestly. I practiced transitioning in the backyard earlier this week (and this can possibly be classified as neurotic) and discovered that if things weren't in a certain order, I would seriously put my shoes on before my shorts, and we all know that that does not work. The people behind me are all wearing wetsuits, but as it turned out, the water temperature was, fortunately for me, far from cold.








On the beach, at the start chute. The color of your cap denotes the class you're in. The caps were so tight, I threw mine away right after the race. At this point, we pretty much realized there was no turning back now.










Forty seconds away from start time, and a last-second check of where those yellow triangular buoys are at.












And we're off. I was really worried I was going to be kicked or hit, but it really wasn't too bad. The three of us stayed back a little bit, where there was more room. Once people started to spread out, there was enough space to swim to the front of the pack without getting clobbered. So for those of you considering a triathlon, but worry about the swimming; it really is not as bad as it looks.





It's the monster of Loch Ness! It's AquaWoman! It's the Little Mermaid! No, it's just me, trying to get out of the water without tripping on the mud and landing on my face.











The swim does not officially end until you have run up the beach and a small hill into the transition area. Running through that sand was probably the hardest part of the entire race, and I was almost happy to get on my bike. The strap around my ankle is the chip they use for timing purposes.








The last leg of the bike course. Husband-dear and
I had ridden the bike course a week before, and so I knew what to expect. All I can say is thank heavens for smart husbands, because those hills would have had me quivering in my sneakers. And also a great big thank you to the local fire station, where all the fire fighters on duty stood on the curb and whistled and catcalled at all the female participants. We all know we don't look our best out there, but it sure made us feel like we were smoking!




Although you feel as though you've deserved a break after swimming and biking, you still have to run a 5k. It doesn't sound like a lot, and it's not, but when I started running, all I could do was tell myself it would be over soon.















The finish line. Nuff said.













We may not look our best, but we're all officially triathletes now, and very excited about it.













So I've started shopping around for my next triathlon. There is one in October, at St. Simons Island, but there are also a couple of good ones in South Carolina and Virginia. What do you think?