(no subject)
The gear, everything but my sunglasses and Pam, is packed up. I still don't know how I'm going to manage to remember to get all this stuff on in the swim-bike transition. It may involve another checklist. But if I'm biking down the shoreway and I'm still wearing the wetsuit, I'll probably remember.
I'm not expecting to tear it up out there: my bicycle, frankly, just isn't made for this type of event, and I'm not that much better constructed. I figure maybe 20 to 25 minutes for the swim, an hour and ten for the bike, and 25 to 30 minutes for the run. With unimaginably smooth transitions, that's about two hours and change. This puts me behind competitor John Gwin, who was born without the left hand he won't need to kick my ass.
Assuming all goes well, and my bike doesn't break down and I don't drown, if you watch this page tomorrow between 9:15 and 9:45 a.m., Eastern Daylight Time, you might catch a glimpse of me crossing the finish line.
I'm not expecting to tear it up out there: my bicycle, frankly, just isn't made for this type of event, and I'm not that much better constructed. I figure maybe 20 to 25 minutes for the swim, an hour and ten for the bike, and 25 to 30 minutes for the run. With unimaginably smooth transitions, that's about two hours and change. This puts me behind competitor John Gwin, who was born without the left hand he won't need to kick my ass.
Assuming all goes well, and my bike doesn't break down and I don't drown, if you watch this page tomorrow between 9:15 and 9:45 a.m., Eastern Daylight Time, you might catch a glimpse of me crossing the finish line.