The Bike

T1 (also known as Transition 1)

When I got out of the water my legs hurt.  HURT.  Like the worst shin splints that I ever had, but I don’t think that they were shin splints, more like tight muscles or cramps.  They HURT!  The actual transition area was ¼ (though I seem to distinctly remember somebody saying ½) mile from the dock.  I waddled the whole way.  Other people ran. 

Taking off my swim gear and mounting the bike was relatively uneventful.  I was just really worried that my legs wouldn’t feel better for the bike ride and the run.  How on earth could I complete the triathlon when my legs feel this way?

Well, just a couple of minutes into the run my legs felt fine, great.  I felt great.  I was really looking forward to the ride.  I wasn’t nearly as intimidated by the mountains as before.  I guess because I knew that I wouldn’t be kicked out of the race if I didn’t climb them quickly, and also there was something about seeing them in real life that made them look just beautiful, not scary at all. 

We started the race in the city and I have to give credit to the Rev 3 race coordinators.  Until we got to the countryside they had every road closed, we even rode on a major highway with no other traffic.  Throughout the entire route there was a police vehicle and police officer at every corner. 

Here’s a shout out to the police officers.  They were stuck on a street corner on a very hot day looking at bicyclists pass them one after the other all daylong.  I was among the last of them.  You would think that they would have had it by then but they cheered me on with claps and words of encouragement the entire time.  I have no way of telling them, but it meant a lot to me. 

The only bad part of the bike portion was just before we left the city.  The road narrowed and steeply dipped beneath a railroad trestle.  It was not well paved and was VERY bumpy.  I not only had to navigate the large bumps, at a fast speed, on a narrow decline, but I also had to navigate around many rolling water bottles on that small strip of road.  I presume that the bottles were shaken out of their cages when the bicycles that they belonged to hit the bumps.   The worst hill was that same stretch on the way back to the city: short but steep. 

Once we got out of the city the course was BEAUTIFUL. We rode up and down the hills of the Smokey Mountains, passing farms, fields, flowers and trees.   I could smell honeysuckle the whole time.  I kept reminding myself to ignore the pain and just enjoy the scenery. I am still not a big fan of hills, but this ride made biking hills worth wile. 

At one point I was slowly ascending a steep hill when I noticed a police motorcycle behind me.  It was going pretty slowly for a motorcycle.  Then I noticed another.  They soon overtook me and it was clear that they were escorting a cyclist.  This was at a point in the race where the Olympic Distance course and the Half Ironman Distance course were merged together, the Half Ironman racers having gone much further than me at this point (duh!).  Well, the cyclist that they were escorting, I can only imagine to be the current leader, Cheered me on.  Imagine that.  Soon other cyclists from the longer race began to pass me in numbers.  They cheered me on too.  I wish that I could thank them. I seemed to get a little push each time.  I wish that I could thank them too. 

Into the city, off of the bike and into T2.