Transition - the Blessed Tent of Salvation

Transition1: Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike my wetsuit? It’s a great wetsuit and it fits well, but the damn thing and I just DON’T get along. I just don’t like having something that tight around my neck and shoulders. Moving up the ramp I start clawing at my wetsuit and trying to get the tail to pull the zipper. (There is a wonderful picture of this time …I’m looking far less than stellar, but it’s 100% evident how brutal the swim was…) My shoulders were toast, I was already freezing and I could no longer breathe. (Someone needed a nap…)

It was then that my little angels entered my life – someone asked if I needed help and next thing I knew I had 4 pairs of hands on my pulling various parts of my wetsuit down my body – sweet, blessed, fresh air – and telling me to lay down. No problemo – but isn’t this an odd place for my nap? They grab my wetsuit and start yanking and pulling while I laugh hysterically and next thing I know I’m laying on the hideous yellow carpet (which Frank CLEARLY got on sale in mass quantities) half naked. I don’t know if they handed me my wetsuit or not – but I definitely like those people!

Into the blessed change tent of salvation and as close to the heater as I can get….some really nice and very funny lady comes over and starts helping me – she put my arm warmers on for me just like Mom used to do with my girly tights!!! A little chamois cream for the bits (and the Nice Lady grabs a towel for me to wipe the “extra” off my fingers – she’s a doll) and I’m out the other side of the tent headed toward my bike.

First thing noticed: the gale that’s trying to blow me back into the tent.

First thought: oh hell, this could be interesting. When what to my wandering eyes should appear but a small herd of bundled up Eskimo parents yelling with cameras in hand!! Definitely a bump to the mentality there, and some quality humor at that…now, how am I going to ride my bike up this hill, into this wind…only 112 miles left...T1 time: 6:20