One of my aero bar pads lost its sense of Velcro and flew off the bike while driving to the swim. No big.
Then I started putting my wetsuit on backwards before I realized it. Duh.
Did I mention the 51 degree water? Anything that cold should have the Titantic in it.
The bike ride: my water bottle cages are behind the seat, making it hard to reach for a drink. And a triathlon bike by definition is unstable when one hand is off the handlebars. And I've been on this particular bike exactly three times. And I was trying to keep up with strongmen Riley and Joseph.
You can see where this is going. An unplanned swerve off the asphalt.
|That ain't strawberry jam...|
Good news; no damage to the bike, and my brand new club racing outfit remains unscathed. Well, maybe a bit scathed. The 'no bike damage' part was really good, since we were 25 miles from nowhere and the car.
Kinda wish I took a picture of the trench I involuntarily dug in the gravel ditch. I was spitting rocks for miles, but all teeth are intact. Too bad no pix of me flying o'er the handlebars; just as well, since I forgot to do the less invasive somersault. Instead, I used my face to slow myself down.
Kids, don't try this at home.