Memphis in May... x 2

The Memphis in May International Festival really makes Memphis a fun place to live during May. For triathletes, it's even more exciting. There's the opportunity to participate in not one, but two triathlons on the same weekend that Barbecue Fest takes place. That's right, you can load up on all the ribs you can eat Thursday and Friday, race Saturday in the mountain bike tri, recover and carbo-load with delicacies such as BBQ spaghetti (it's actually good), then race again the next morning in the Olympic-distance tri. All in one weekend.

I partook in the races and carbo-loading, but avoided BBQFest. The fun weekend started with a short MTB race. The actual "mountain bike" part of it was mostly in grassy fields through which a path had been cut the day before... or that morning. I was happy that they had "grasscyled" the clippings for environmental reasons, but my legs were not so appreciative. Long grass + clippings = a slow, painful ride. There was some excitement through actual trails, lots of mud, and some harmless crashes. I wasn't involved in these crashes, but got to be a spectator when my teammate Susan did an endo in a ditch. It was in slow-motion-- her front wheel got sucked about halfway under the mud, her rear wheel slowly rose straight up in the air, she paused, then came crashing down. She was unhurt, thankfully, and I knew better than to try that move myself. I came out of T2 nice and muddy (ahead of Susan, who sat down to change her shoes after finally finding her stuff), with helpful volunteers telling me I was about 3 minutes back from 1st place. I ended up 2nd still (not surprisingly) after the 3 mile run through those same grassy paths we rode on. I actually passed a few people still on bikes during my run, and I assured them that running on that stuff was easier than riding on it.

The afternoon consisted of volunteering at registration and getting to chat with Elizabeth and Mira, Damie, Charlie, and Laura, amongst many other friends.

Sunday was a much larger, more competitive race, with 10 times the number of participants. This year, the participants included a team from my office. It was all three's first time to participate in a triathlon relay. They, thankfully, had a good time racing, especially since the swimmer and cyclist got so lost getting to the race that they missed the relay start and had to jump in later. They hadn't all gotten to the race by the time I started, and all I thought about during the swim was "are they ok?" and "will they get to start?" until... WHAM! I got kicked in the eye by a guy breaststroking. I make every effort to avoid the powerful, broad-ranging kick of the breaststroke during races, and therefore I expect my fellow racers to do the same. I hope this guy will stick to the kinder, gentler flutter kick in the future, especially after hearing the cursing that I did when I came up for air, checking my face for fractures and finding my goggles again. I don't have a black eye today, but I lost some skin on my nose. He did apologize and I kind of felt bad afterward.

The bike ride was nice and windy, which turned out to be a positive. We faced strong headwinds, but similarly strong tailwinds, and I noticed a few times that I hit over 30 mph on some flat sections. I always tend to get fired up over drafters, and this race was no different. A couple of 25-29 guys passed me and slowed down in front of me, which is irritating in itself. They then proceeded to pass back and forth, always staying within 6 inches of the leader's wheel, for at least 3 or 4 miles. When I finally spotted a marshal I pointed them out to her, and they both ended up with a penalties. What a coincidence I found it to be when post-race, I was looking at results, and one of the drafters was standing right in front of me, talking about how well he did, even though he got a penalty. When I noticed his number, 366, which had been burned into my memory, I pointed out to him and the surrounding group, that 2 minutes was really not sufficient given the blatant drafting that he did. He mumbled something about passing back and forth, to which I added that he was 6 inches behind the guy's wheel for a good 10 minutes and I wish MIM was still an automatic DQ for drafters. Like I said, I get a little fired up.

The run seemed like constant hills, uphills mostly, on the way out to the turnaround. It is fun (ok, it's all relative) doing an out-and-back run; you can see everyone within miles of you, and there were lots of locals out there to keep me occupied. By the turnaround I was no longer able to verbalize my encouragement. My teammate Brad commented that I must've been feeling the heat given the two-fingered wave I gave him instead of a shout. I finished with one of my slowest times ever for this race, or any oly-distance for that matter, BUT I still ended up 2nd in the Amateur Challenge, which paid a prize of more than double my entry fees combined. A successful finish!

And more BBQ spaghetti awaiting.