First Triathlon Ponderings, Musings and a Peanut Butter Sandwich

part 5 of a series. Click here to begin.

This was great! I ran up the blue carpet of the swim exit, and heard several people shout and call my name. As I headed into the massive transition area I made my way over to my bike. Immediately I wondered what all these people were doing just standing there by their bikes. Didn’t they know they were in a race? Did they call it all off? Why was I analyzing this so much, but I was seriously the only person that seemed to be in a hurry. Then it occurred to me. They were doing this as a team and waiting for their swimmer to get out of the water. Enough with the thinking. Get on that bike.

I seriously had the best bike spot in the world. Right next to the bike repair tent and second from the end. It was easy to spot the tent, therefore easy to find my bike. I had heard horror stories of people coming out of the water, being disoriented and unable to find their bike in the sea of thousands. Not me! I ran straight to it, saying a silent thank you for no wetsuit to remove, fastened my helmet, slid on my bike shoes (no socks!), heaved my bike from its resting pole and began jogging with it toward the bike exit. The bike would be the longest leg of the race, but it was also where I knew my family would be waiting to cheer me on. Swinging my leg over the bike, a quick shoe clip in and I was off to find them.