I Tried. And Disqualified.

And by "Tried" I mean I competed in a triathlon. Don't be impressed. I finished, but had an insanely slow time...and I only did the Sprint race. I probably would've been faster had I trained harder even though I worked out typically six days a week...but unfortunately I love beer and my social life so I guess the tri took the fall. Oh well. I was happy during my run and ecstatic when I finished the race. Gotta love those endorphins. But then I saw pictures. Me + spandex ≠ attractive. So then I got to thinking about all of the funny things that I experienced while racing...

1) I wasn't the only one in lycra. Everyone wore spandex in some shape or fashion. It was so awful you couldn't help but laugh. There was absolutely nothing flattering about our garb or general appearance.

2) So the race had different waves based on age and we started at staggered times...but they also had a wave for hefty people in the Sprint race...called Clydesdales. Yes. I was in Wave 7, Age 20-24. Some unfortunate souls were in Wave 5, Clydesdales. Your age doesn't matter when you're pushing 400 pounds. Mad props to them for doing it, though. I guarantee they would kick my butt had we gone at the same time.

3) I couldn't swim strait. It was like I was drawn to the bouys on the sides of the regulation swim area. I probably would've finished the swim five minutes faster, but I kind of looked like I was drunk, got pulled over for swimming drunk, and failed a sobriety test because I was swerving left and right endangering nearby swimmers.

4) We kept our bikes and gear in a designated transition area, so after my swim I jogged to go get to my bike...however, the path for the bike portion of the race was about the size of a football field away from the transition area and we could not ride our bikes to the entrance. We had to run them. It was annoying. What kept me going? There were signs saying "Mount Area" with an arrow pointing up...and then when we got to this area, there was a sign posted that said "Mount Here." I couldn't help but chuckle. Those race officials (who I lovingly referred to as Tri Nazis) at least have a sense of humor. Or I'm just immature.

5) When the ride was over a man kept yelling as we drew nearer to the "Mount Area" that we needed to "Get Down! Dismount!" Again, I chuckled.

6) During my ride, my race number was about to fall off of my race belt. Instead of stopping to fix it since I didn't technically need it on my bike, I tucked it into the side of my belt and decided to adjust it during my run. Apparently I fixed it too late and was penalized 2 minutes on my run. Piss off, Tri Nazis.

7) Since I am a member of the DC Tri Club, I had the same uniform as 200+ other individuals, which was super cool. During the run as we passed each other (the course wasn't a circle, so you got to see who was in front and behind you) we'd give each other fives, act all macho, and say stuff like, "Yeah DC Tri! Let's DO this!" I think this is funny because at other social events with the club we're not that social and we don't act like friends. Come race time, we're nearly kin that's how much it appeared that we loved each other.

8) Every time I saw a photographer I sucked in and tried to run faster, while I looked very determined and badass. The picture of myself in my mind as this happened was quite awesome, but, uh, that didn't translate to film. Yikes.

9) I wasn't around anyone when I finished the race so in the picture it looks like I finished dead last.

10) After the race I bought a beer. I felt amazing and proud and honest to goodness happy.

11) The next day I found out I was disqualified and got a 2 minute penalty on my run.

12) Everyone from the Club (read: FREAKS WHO DO 8 TRIATHLONS A YEAR) asked me after the race when my next race is and then when I said I didn't have any scheduled they asked if I'll compete in a tri again...and an Olympic this time, since Sprint races are for Clydesdales.

So there you have my tri-tastic experience. It wasn't fun, I really sucked, I ended up getting disqualified by the Tri Nazis (I didn't have a plug/cap on one of my handle bars...hey Tri Nazis, I'll give YOU a plug...jerks.), and I had to use nasty Port-O-Potties.

But hey. I finished.




(Disclaimer: thanks for all of the support - I just found the whole thing funny. Despite what I just wrote, I am proud of myself.)