The answer is 42, but what is the question?

I like to provide solutions, so I can tell you - 42 is my Ironman race number!  It's the professionals, two other people, and then me, and then 1497 others!  We won't necessarily finish in the same order.

Speaking of professionals, I did my first race against real professionals on Sunday.  The Erin Baker - a standard distance triathlon at Kinloch.  I did not win.  Jo Lawn won.  I was a close 59th....

After the Half Iron went so smoothly I guess it was only a matter of time before I had a few race day calamities.  My first was arriving at transition (somewhat sleep deprived) to find I had cross threaded the lid of my drink bottle and flooded all my gear with sticky electrolyte fluid.  It made the fabric of my running shoes set like cement.  It also made me choose to forgo arm warmers and cycling gloves for similar reasons.  I regrouped though, found some Vitasport and lake juice to replace the lost fluid, and pressed a kind and energetic 12 year old into delivering the recharged bottle back to my bike. 

Pre-race nerves - all sticky with electrolyte and sleepiness.

My swim was OK, longer than it was supposed to be because one of the buoys had dragged it's anchor.  Believe it or not, this is not the first time this has happened to me.  But I made it through the two lap course, and only got lapped by Cameron Brown and a few of his mates.  They proceeded to lap me again on the bike leg.  They didn't need to lap me on the run, they'd already finished before I started!

Getting into transition mode...and wondering why the swim felt 200m longer than it should have!

My lovely bike was great on the bike leg, I got up to 60km/hr+ on some of the downhills - it made my cheeks flap like a happy puppy with it's head out the car window.

Cornering like a pro - inside pedal up, still smiling...

The run was four laps  past my family who were parked on their lawn.  They indulged me with a gentle spray of the hose as I cantered (ok, wheezy shuffled) my way by.  Although my sister got a little carried away with the adjustable spray head and it was a bit of a waterblast initially!   My brother in law also took some video of my running form - it would appear I run like a broken puppet, I just don't seem to have the right amount of joints in my legs (or my arms).  I have five or six knees, no ankles and one hip.  And 3 elbows.  My poor coach, he must despair.

Doing the broken puppet shuffle.

I also somehow forgot to take my bike pants off, so had to do a quick down-trou and illegal discard to my lucky sister halfway through my first lap.  Don't worry though, for once there wasn't gratuitous nudity, I checked that I had my running shorts on underneath first.

Until next week,  I strongly recommend that if you discover a cockroach on your collar bone, don't flinch and knock it down the front of your togs into your cleavage.

Love
Ironmaiden