A funny triathlon story...

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

A funny thing happened to me this past weekend. I race triathlons. A friend of mine and I agreed to meet at a sprint course triathlon this past weekend. It was about four hours from where I live and three hours for him. He was doing his first ever triathlon. We met at the race at 7:30, the race started at 9. It is really the end of season up here, so the later start was needed just to get the air temps out of the 50’s. I race very old school, which means I wear a triathlon swim brief for the whole race. For this race, I also wore a cropped race short that came down to my waist band.

We set up out bikes in the transition area side by side. Being his first race, he wanted my “expertise” in transition, even though we actually would never see each other. I got him all set, gave him some tips and then set my space up. He wore the more modern triathlon suit, which is kind of a cross between bike shorts, jammers, and a wrestling singlet. He looked cute in it and his partner took maybe 1000 pictures.

It was a great race. He finished in a good time, and had a blast. We all were hanging around after and waiting for the “official” results to get posted. After it was almost all over, he and his partner started to pack up. They were almost done and we said our goodbyes, I said I wanted to go by and see a few other folks and wish them well for the winter. I had not changed yet, so I was still in my Speedo tri brief and top. We hugged and I congratulated him, hugged his partner and said he was a great fan. We waved and all took off in different directions. About 45 minutes later I cam back to get my stuff and take it to my car when I noticed that my bad with my shorts and T shirt was not next to my bike. I had locked my wallet and stuff in my car, but I put the shorts I wore to the race and my shirt in my small race bag, with the intent to change before I got back to the car. I looked all around for it and did not see it anywhere.

There I stood, in just a racing brief and short singlet top. The race was so small that they had no expo, so buying shorts was not an option. I grabbed my stuff and wheeled my bike to my car. Maybe I had left it in the car? No luck. I had driven home from races before in just my suit, but not four hours. I knew I’d have to stop somewhere.

“Oh well,” I thought. “What can you do?,”

Luckily my car has a remote lock and so I had my keys in the car with my wallet and cell phone. I got in the car and started the drive home. I called my friend and they pulled over and checked. Sure enough, they had my bag, but by now were well on their way in opposite directions. His partner admitted he grabbed it, thinking it was theirs. No one caught it. An innocent mistake.

All in all the drive home was fine except fro two points. First was a gas stop about an hour into the drive. I wanted some coffee and liquids, and the only option was to go in the mini mart. I must have looked cute at the counter in my sweaty race short, tiny suit and race numbers on my arms and legs. No one seemed to be too freaked about it though.

The second was a stop at a rest area about an hour before my exit. I got a few looks there.

In a way, it was kind of fun!