I did the Mayo Lake triathlon a couple of weeks ago. Would have written a bit up before this but we have been in the process of moving to a new home in the area and that took precedence on my race reporting habits. That'll be a separate entry.
Mayo Lake is a lake up near the border with Virginia. The race is held at Roxboro community park, which is 3 miles from the border. There are some kick ass off road running trails here. A few years ago my cross country team had a meet with a local school. The fastest kid on the team came back from the warm up, looked at me and said "I think our team will have some problems out there." He was right. That's another story as well.
The water is much clearer than our local lakes, you can almost see bottom. It was raining most of the morning and we were delayed about 15 minutes. Then it was time to go. My training was up and down but I felt good that morning, which is sometimes the most important thing. A couple younger guys took off at the swim start and I attempted to stay with the slower one, but they were both too fast. Did my thing and got out of the ~750 meter swim around 10:45, which is not bad, until you know that my supposed 800 meter pool time 20+ years ago was the equivalent of 8:40 (1000 yard 9:40). Of course, then I was swimming 50,000+ yards per week and now I swim about 6,000 in a good week. Blah de blah. factoids. hints. feints and parries.
I ran to transition and moved quickly. Lo and behold I left T1 before both of the young fast guys. I don't like to brag (sure I do) but I rock muddy transitions. The end.
I would post pictures here but there are no pictures. Only dirt. Rain. Mud. More rain. I rode as hard as I could as safely as I could for I am not just me; I am Daddy, and Daddy is more important than the Royal We. We were first off the bike, as We had a good ride despite the safety concerns.
Then we ran into the trails. It was awesome. It rained but the leaves and trees subdued the raindrops fall from the heavens. We felt good. We hopped and jumped instead of stumbling and taking hesitant little chicken steps. We cavorted quickly rather than slogging sluggishly. We enjoyed the moment and wished the moment could last, but alas, all moments end for that is what they are. Quick breaths in a long day. Something or other. I need to work on that last analogy. Mudda Fuddas!
We crossed the finish line first, triumphant in our return to #championships. It was a good race and We were happy to win. Then We drove home to Señor Junior Awesome and the Lady Bri for more entertainment and rollicking good times.
Pictures schmictures. This is not a graphic novel!