Packet pickup and race expo, a haiku

Endless stickers, bags

we march like lemmings and then

buy all things Mdot.

Okay. I'm not going to keep writing haikus forever, I promise.

Today's real title: Gear sluts do Louisville.

At packet pickup we received a sheet of 10 stickers with our name and number printed on each: 2 each for the 5 bags: morning clothes, swim-to-bike transition, bike special foods bag, bike-to-run transition, run special foods. Note that it says "special foods," and not "special needs". We are advised that we will not get these bags back after the race; pak accordingly. We also received an Ironman Head sweats running cap and assorted other items.


The bike number is interesting, really thick plastic, I mean like 1/4 inch thick, like the kind that kiddie outdoor play stuff is made from.


Sweet Baboo and I went down to the dinner, where I met up with Dying Water Buffalo, who neither looks nor sounds nothing like one, no matter how much she insists, and Duane, and Mary Sunshine.
I forgot to take pictures, but Duane did, so I may steal some off his blog if/when he posts them.

I was all set to have a mint julep after dinner, because this is Loo-uh-ville (as I have been told is the proper pronunciation) but when chatting at the morning swim was told that, in reality, mint juleps kinda suck, so I had some sort of Southern Comfort concoction instead.

Oh, but here's some details on this morning's swim. Okay. Well, after swimming out past the little protected area, I swam in place for quite some time and then decided, screw this, I wasn't supposed to swim until tomorrow anyway.

Then after leaving the slightly funky, but very warm, water I met up with some fellow outlaws who informed me that we were all going to sneak over to the "real" start, which is in a protected little inlet, and try a swim there.

I walked over barefoot about 3/4 of a mile and arrived there at the same time as a boat full of Ironman do-gooders who, and I know they are just doing their jobs, shooed us away. Booooooooo. Hisssssssss.

I did stick around and chat with some who had been in the water, who assured me that the swim in the inlet was far different from being in the main current.

Then I walked back to the swim area, barefoot, and met up with Sweet Baboo who informed me that it took him 33 minutes to swim about a 500 meters, but only 6 minutes to swim back. Which did nothing for my rapidly increasing feelings of anxiety about the swim, which normally i don't worry about.

At the expo, I bought the following M-dot items: a girlie pink tank top, red running shirt, and bra top. I also bought a new Timex watch heartrate thingy, because my old one was showing its age and beside, I left it at home. I need one to sound the alarm every 15 minutes on the bike so that I would be sure to eat and drink and then every 5 minutes on the run (run-run-walk).

Sweet Baboo and I each also purchased a Blue-Seventy Point-Zero3 swim suit, which I've been told will make me fast, fast, fast and is perfectly legal and allowable in all swims in which wetsuits are not allowed. Like this one.

And yes, it was apallingly expensive.

FYI, they were out of all women's large, and I normally wear a woman's ML in Blue Seventy everything, so I bought a man's medium long, which fits perfectly.

As a bonus, this thing makes me look FABULOUS: taut and fit in a way that wet suits never did. seriously. I wish I could wear one under all my clothes.

Later in the afternoon we drove the bike course, just so all my pre-race anxiety could come rushing back to greet me and the voices in my head could chastize me for buying anything with an M-dot on it and jinxing everything.

Tomorrow, another try at swimming the Ohio river to see just if the pointzero3 lives up to the promise, on people other than Desiree Flick and Normal Stadtler, I mean. Then, it will be dropping off bags and gear, and a short bike, but mostly resting and a visit to Imax.

....