Tri Trips.

Last year was my first tri traveling year. I'm so afraid of flying that I drug myself into submission to get on the plane. It's an ocean thing. There is nowhere to pull over, people! I picked a good place to live for a person with that particular phobia, but still, there's something I love about traveling to a new race enough to get me in a giant hunk of metal thats going to be hurled into the sky.

I love packing up my bike in it's super fancy cardboard box with tape all the way around holding every flapping inch of it together. For yet another vacation. And I love cramming all my gear in around the bike so I can just travel with carry-on. I even love the looks of pity/horror as I drag my cardboard box up to the timex truck/shop/hotel to put it together. I don't lift it, I pretend it has wheels. One side has given out completely because of this behavior, because the PHX airport is big, so now that end is the handle. 

I love the tri people. I hear negative talk sometimes about tri people, complaining about the over-competitiveness, the showing off, posturing, the meeting of all the Type A personalities.. and then I show up at the race and it's a freaking ice cream social. Everyone is just so nice. There are so many characters. Goofballs and genuises and hams and gearheads, all in the same place to do the same thing. And there's no judging by looks. That hairy guy with the big ass may just kick yours out there. Every race is a reunion and an opportunity to make a bunch of new friends.

I love the race morning nerves. The progression that I know is inevitable from waking up in the morning wondering why the hell I got myself into this, to the ten checks of my bike in transition and the "be good, bike" good-bye routine, and then the chattering with all the friends (or strangers, I'm not picky) to calm me down and take my mind off the impending pain during the wait, and then on to the moment just before the start in a strange new body of water, when I finally get calm and quiet (the latter being because I'm under water.)

I love the surprises of a new bike course, having no idea where the heck I'm going and just following the cones or the bikes up ahead. Same goes for the run. New scenery, new city, new beach, new neighborhood, so much to see that the miles fly by. This is Amy and I at Hagg Lake last year, off to check out the course for Nationals. We got cold. We didn't make it very far out of the parking lot. So much for bike course recon.

I love picking out cheesy presents to bring back to my Henry, Wyatt and Sky. It seems their approval of the gift is inversely proportionate to its cost. I also love reading a book without constant interruption - the highlight of a night in a hotel!  I asked Henry if he would miss me, he told me to bring him back something Indy. What are the odds I'm going to find something Indiana Jones at KOA International?  Off to the Big Island!