It turned out to be pretty warm and sunny on Bute after the morning's cold rain showers had thankfully moved on to annoy someone else.
The pre-race discussion revolved, as usual, around The Editor's theory of Natural Weakness and how he is predisposed to losing the forthcoming race. Actually, it's quite surprising that we even have time to discuss anything going by the number of trips we alternately make to the bathroom during the free time between registration and start.
The swim was pretty good. I managed to practice drafting for the first 20 lengths.
The cycle went well, having a nice pink Lycra clad lady to chase. It turns out she was the fastest female, so I was delighted to have overtaken her.
The run was utterly hellish. My mind was only taken off the excruciating pain in my lower back because my ankles were causing a greater amount of pain almost immediately. But there was no time to stop and check what was happening in case The Editor went past, laughing manically.
After crossing the finish line in a very respectable time of 1 hr 13 mins and 36 seconds, I wish I had taken the 8 seconds per foot time penalty of putting on socks in T1. I kicked off my bloodied shoes to reveal broken, bleeding blisters on the outside of my both ankles. By no means did they resemble any kind of severe war wound, but the obligatory event first aiders made a beeline straight for me as they were obviously extremely bored not dealing with the other 100 fittest people on Bute that day. After spending around 5 minutes discussing the state of my blisters, I agreed to take 2 sticking plasters to apply to the wounds after my shower; I was getting a little bored of the technicalities of blister treatments by this point.
The shower itself was extremely interesting, conducted as it was in full view of the spectator's gallery, with a massed crowed enjoying the post race buffet. It's certainly unusual to be holding a rational converstaion with a similarly Lycra clad female stranger under the immediately adjacent showerhead whilst cleaning your bits inside your shorts. Although the experience was not unpleasant.
The best bit? It was without doubt the post race treats consisting of ample Scotch pie and the World's Best angel cakes made with the most yummy jam.
Current weight is 13 stones 6 pounds (188 pounds / 85.3 kg), but I've been eating out for the past 4 days and nights.
Sunday 10 May 2009
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1 comment:
It's just a BLOODY NONSENSE!
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