Vineman

So I went with Greg to the Vineman half ironman triathlon up in Sonoma this weekend, to watch him race, get in some good training of my own, and generally take in the sights.

It being a 70.3 monstrosity, run by the Ironman corporation which as far as I can tell is the Clear Channel of the sports world that has created a huge machine to take people's money whilst making them feel like Winners because they get to spend all sorts of money and get finishing medals in exotic locales such as Santa Rosa and Cancun, (btw this is mainly the amateur stuff I am overgeneralizing about here)... anyway due to these facts there was LOTS of blog fodder. It was great fun.

I do however have utmost respect for those who race the race.


Weekend snippets:


It's 4:55 a.m. and we are driving from our homestay to the race start. I am sipping the weakest ever coffee, and Greg is answering my question about how his stuff is supposed to get from one place to another (opting not to bore you with all the logistics here)...

Greg: ...so I'll put that stuff in that plastic bag that has my number in it, the one they gave me at registration, and then the race staff brings everyone's bags to the finish.
Me: Oh. It wasn't the clear one on the floor that I threw away this morning was it?
Greg: Haha. You are funny.
Me: No seriously that's one of the things that was in the trash pile I threw away.
Greg: Stop kidding.
Me: I'm not... so then how is your stuff going to get from one place to the other without getting lost?
Greg: ...
Me: I was being helpful!
Greg: ...
Me: Sorry!
etc.

Now that I write it, it seems silly, but at the time I felt awful for being "helpful" to the point of overefficiency. We did successfully get his stuff though.

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I am riding along on the bike course, going opposite of the direction of the race so I can see everyone esp. Greg who of course was going through an aid station when I passed so he did not in fact see me waving frantically with both arms but that's O.K., anyway later on I was riding and some dude drops his gel flask on the ground. I decide to continue my helpful streak and I pull over to pick it up for him.

Dude: Stop! That's Mine! I Need That! It's Mine!
Me: I was going to pick it up so I could hand it to you. Sheesh.

I pedal off leaving Mr. Freakout's flask on the ground. As if I would steal someone else's nasty saliva-smothered goop... Come on.


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After my ride I went over to the finish to see Greg. I got there a little early, and was standing there talking to the announcers for a while. Then I saw Greg running down the finishing chute and of course could not stop clapping (since it was my being-helpful day and everything).

Over the loudspeakers: "And here comes Greg Remaly! Hey Greg, there's a cute girl on a bicycle clapping for you!"

Like I said I lazed on the photo front but here's a photo from Greg's Alcatraz finish, imagine this with sunny-sky colours:

You'd clap too.



O.K. that's it for now. More tomorrow...