This is a somewhat crowded little sprint, as it is the USAT "Best of the US" event for New Mexico. It's a lot of fun. It's hot, and windy, but they give you free ice creme from Schwanns at the end, and lots of cold drinks.
I've course, I was fully carb-loaded having had as I did
my dinner, which Baboo ordered without asking me and here it was, are you ready for it?
PASTA in a BREAD BOWL.
How perfect is that for the carb-loading racing individual? I ask you. It can't be more perfect than:
PASTA in a BREAD BOWL.
That's right. a Bowl made of Bread. or more precisely, Pizza dough. Fully of pasta and primavera sauce and--as Baboo discovered--icky vegetables. With melted cheese on top, of course. Otherwise, what would be the point?
It was much better than it sounds. Or as good, depending on what you expect. Delivered to our hotel room, from Dominos. Umm. Like a lot of simple carbs, it was very, very good. Then, I took a Benedryl, which if you save it for special occasions makes a very effective sleep aid. LIGHTS. OUT. I slept like a stone in one position all night.
So, the morning of the sprint, I had a couple of Electrolyte caps, some G2, and a couple of nutrigrain blueberry bars. Yum.
THE SWIM: The lake was 72 degrees, so I eschewed a wetsuit. The lake didn't taste as bad as I remember. Why is it that swims seem to take SOOOOO LONG? I think my swim was only about 12 minutes, but it seemed to take 6 HOURS. I felt pretty good toward the end, though. Stroke, stroke, turn and breathe. Stroke, stroke, turn and breathe. SIGHT. Stroke, stroke, turn and breathe. Stroke, stroke, turn and breathe....
I T1, I glanced at my socks, and decided against it.
THE BIKE: I was hauling ass, relatively speaking, trying to stay ahead of Sarah, who has been closing in on me this year. I beat her by 35 seconds at Jay Benson. I used to beat her pretty easily, but then she went and lost about 25 pounds, dammit, and now I have to WORK harder. CRAP!! Not long after the turnaround, I saw her close behind me. I sipped Heed from my aerobottle whenever I could remember to do it.
You know, each year I'm surprised afresh at the roads. I've formed the opinion that kindergartenders must be given trowels and buckets of blacktop when it's time to pave. They are THAT sloppy.
In T2, I thought about my socks again. And again, decided to skip them.
THE RUN: I grabbed my bottle of HEED, my hat, my racing flats with elastic laces and slid them onto my feet and took off. The run felt better, though. It felt easier. Not faster, but not as labored. Just as hot, though. I realized about 1/2 mile in that I'd forgotten my race belt with my number on it, and spent the rest of the run practicing a lie that nobody ever asked me to tell about why I wasn't wearing my race number. They seemed to be pretty satisfied with the number as it was written on both my arms and the fronts of both my legs.
It was in the upper 90s when I finished, and Sarah finished 8 seconds behind me,
which I figure is about how long it would have taken me to put on my socks.
Total time, about 1:42. Not the fastest I've done it. But not the slowest, either. I was 3rd in 2006, and 1st last year.
The first place awards were pitchers
that stands about 6 inches high.
Meanwhile, Sweet Baboo took first Master's Clydesdale.
Then we headed back to Albuquerque listening to loud 80s music.
video killed the radio star, video killed the radio star...
Soooooo, now we have four of these pitchers in the house. One of them is already in charge of holding all the splenda, and another one sits next to the sink and holds the hand blender we use for our protein shakes.
Any ideas of what to do with these two?