I had finished the triathlon with about 15 minutes before the downpour. Of course at that moment I didn't know it was really going to pour. If I did, I might have done things differently. I had spotted my family on the run portion so knew it would take them awhile to make it over to the finish line. It seemed like a perfect time to chat with others, grab some food and catch my breath.
Then came the flooding rain. Sure it had been brewing for several hours, but I really thought I had time. I was just basking in the glow of finishing and really didn't want to be thinking about what to do next. I borrowed a cell phone from someone in a shelter house that I had beelined for and checked in with the family. Thank goodness they had made it into the park and were also in a shelter house...across the park.
We waited. It poured. We waited. It poured. After an hour, it let up somewhat and I dashed for the transition area to get my bike and all that gear. Everything had been left out on my transition towel and was soaked. I furiously tried to jam everything back into my back pack. But the rain seemed to have expanded my biking shoes, helmet, wetsuit...and it wouldn't quite fit.
Then there was the grill cover. The grill cover that the night before I had lavishly covered my bike with. Oh, I had been so proud of this ingenuity! My bike wouldn't be sitting out in the rain all night like thousands of others, oh no...I had brought the family grill cover.
Did it end up raining that night? No.
Have you ever tried to ride your bike with a 30 lbs of sopping wet backpack and an absolutely drenched, bulky and mammoth grill cover? I wanted to leave it. I had, after all, abandoned the now 15 pound tri towel. I couldn't do it. My husband had been so generous to offer the family grill cover. I had to take it. Did I mention it had begun pouring again?
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