So, we were at the halfway mark of the Triathlon, with your intrepid LDR motoring along on the Frankenshiv. At this point, i've remembered i forgot to put a photo in the last post of said abomination of a bike in transition, so i'll just put it here out of sequence.
So i "hooked a screaming uey" (as the saying goes) and straight away it was headwind time. There were a few spots where roadside trees allowed some respite but it was still pain central all the way. Before the off i had been chatting to a bloke from one of the TEN Youi Insurance teams, he left about 6 minutes before i did but i managed to catch him and comprehensively overtake with a wave and "hey mate how ya goin?" at about the 28km mark. Oh gee that felt good!
The final climb off the motorway did NOT feel good though, no sirree! Once over that though it became apparent that the riders around me were thinking "almost finished, i can relax a bit". The fools!
Anyone who has ever ridden with me wouldn't need two guesses to know what happened next, the red mist descended and i wound it up way past 100% (or 100% of what i had left), and the final few hundred metres along the very narrow barricade lined Mooloolaba esplanade saw me out of the saddle at 50+ screaming "RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT!!" Picked up a good dozen places right there.
I jumped from the bike BEFORE the line (hence avoiding another penalty) and sprinted hell for leather into transition. I knew the bike had to be back on the rack before the timing chip could be handed over, so in my haste i virtually THREW the Frankenshiv at the rack, and in so doing knocked a $3,000 Giant TCR clean off the other side. With the owner standing right next to it....
Luckily he saw me collapse to the ground writhing in agony the second Scott the runner was on his way, and understood where i was at.
After a few minutes of lying on the ground hurting (and half a dozen of the inevitable "are you OK?" queries, i mean every race that happens, it's like they've never seen someone push themselves properly) i staggered off to find Mrs LDR and our swimmer. Together we made our way to the finish line to see Scott cross the line, looking like he'd gone to a pub on the wrong side of town and been beaten half to death.
Anyway, giant black and white lycra condoms aside, the total time for the team was a whisker over 2:20, good enough for SEVENTH place from 69 teams (hehe, 69). We were all over the moon with that result, especially as we had all given everything we had.
My average speed for the bike leg came in at 38.2kmh on the Strava segment (because as we all know, if it's not on Strava it didn't happen) only 7 minutes down on the fastest, who are on around 5-600km a week compared to my 90 odd! If that doesn't show potential i don't know what does!
In other tri news, a mate of mine i call Blarney Paul (on account of his being Irish) had his first go at a tri and did it in just under 3hrs. And our dear old friend Lewis-the-not-triathlete decided to ignore his name and actually do a triathlon (although he did describe his swim leg as "a trainwreck") and he scored 558th place from 1,823 finishers, very solid effort indeed.
Bed for now so i can ba up in time for some more Shiv'ing in the morning, and along with that there will be some big news..