The 2023 Dragonfly Triathlon

I was slowly running up a flat road that had no shade. It was very hot, and I was very tired. Up ahead was a big guy, I was guessing 6'4" or 6'5" and 300 plus pounds. He was having trouble moving his huge body in the heat and humidity. 

As I gained on him, I noticed that he was dressed in a triathlon suit and over that he had on what looked like a skirt. I drew closer and saw it was a skirt. "What the heck?" I thought. He either

    a) was trying to start a fight

                b) was some kind of goofy stupid, or

c) he lost a bet

I pondered on what to say when I passed him. This guy could pick my up, tear me limb from limb, and throw my parts all the way back into the lake. But I'm a smart aleck, so when I drew even with him I said, "Nice dress."

He responded with, "Hey, keep your eyes up here," he said pointing to his eyes. Then he tapped me on the shoulder as I passed.

"It took a lot of nerve to say that to somebody as big as you," I yelled as I shuffled ahead.

"No nerve needed," he answered.

This day had begun at 3:30 a.m. My alarm was set for 4:45, but when I woke up and checked the time, I decided to go ahead and get up. I ate a bowl of cereal, got all of my Gatorade out, loaded the truck, and left. I headed to Sardis Lake, the lower lake at what they call Cypress Point. This is where the Dragonfly Triathlon is held each year. The date, August 26, 2023. The distances: a half-mile swim, an 18-mile bicycle race, and a four-mile run that takes place partly on a trail.

I drove slow and got there early. It turns out I needed the early. From where you park to packet pickup is a solid quarter of a mile or more. I walked in and showed the volunteer my QR code. Why does this irritate me? What was wrong with asking me my name and looking it up? Then she said, "Picture ID, please."

"Huh?"

"I need a picure ID."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. USAT rules. We have to know you are who you say you are."

I gave her the look.

"Ride your bike back to your truck."

"My bike is in my truck."

To make a short story long, my momma wouldn't let me say anything else, so I took the walk back to the truck, fetched my ID, and walked back. I know what you're thinking. "Poor baby," right? Well, I was minimally trained for this, and I needed those steps to apply to the triathlon. And when I made it back to packet pickup, she didn't even look at the ID.

So with packet in hand, I got to walk to the truck again. See how this is adding up? At the truck, I aired up my bicycle tires, and tried to put my sticker numbers on my bike and helmet. I never can get the back off those sticky things, so I found a woman with finger nails to help me out. Then I took all my stuff to the transition area and set up.

Down on the beach, I took a warmup swim then climbed out onto the sand. I saw a one-armed lady get into the water. I wanted to watch her swim. Which side do you breath on if you only have one arm? I watched until she took a short swim. Once, she breathed out the front. Twice she breathed on her arm side. Now that was in my head like a bad song. How would I swim with one arm. I balance on my lead hand when I breath. Now I know what I am going to be doing when I go to the pool next.

The race started eight minutes and 28 seconds late. Why? On a day it's supposed to go over 100 degrees, why not? I guess to make it all more fun. I was number 136 which meant I was the 136th person in the water with the race officials sending us off once every five seconds. While I was wading in, a young guy came flying by running like a bear was after him and diving into the water. I guess he couldn't take it seeing the 67 written on the back of my left calf. They do that, you know, write your age on the back of your left calf in triathlons. This causes some young men a lot of angst. As soon as I took ten strokes in the swim, I was back in front of him. Not only that, but I was passing people three to five at a time during the one half mile swim. I ate it up, then exited the water and began the 100 or so yard run up the beach, across a field, and to the transition area. 

I put on my shoes and helmet, and headed out on my bicycle for the 18-mile cycle leg of the race. Remember all those people I passed in the swim? They passed my back on the bicycle, and it didn't take long. The sport of triathlon really does discriminate against swimmers. If you are a good runner, you can be average in the other two legs and still do pretty well. If you are a good cyclist, you can be average in the other two and do pretty well. If you are a good swimmer and only average at the other two, you will finish way in the back of the pack.

The bicycle course has one big hill. We ride south on Highway 35 until we turn off onto a county road and climb into the hills. When we made it to the foot of the hill, I hit the shift lever on the left side of my handle bars. That was to shift into my smallest chainring on the front. Nothing happened, so I hit it a few more times. There are two levers on that side, so I tried the other one. That shifted me into my large chainring on the front. The bicyle almost immediately stopped. I managed to get off before falling over. 

Off the bike, I worked the chain back to the middle chainring. But when I mounted the bike and tried to ride, I could not get the pedals to move far enough to clip in my right foot. So I had to walk the bike up the hill. While I did, the rest of the race contestants passed me. Lovely. I finally made it to the top and took off again. On top, we had about another mile to go before the turn around. On the way back, I saw that I was actually still ahead of a few people. A few. 

On the way back, I hit 28.2 going down the hill I had to walk up, and I didn't pedal a single stroke. Back on Highway 35, I began to push a little harder and was hitting 16 yo 17 miles per hour. I finally finished my bicycle leg just in time for it to get really hot. Praise God. At the transition area, I re-racked my bicyle, changed into my running shoes, and hit the hot road.

The road goes one mile before we cross Highway 35 and then enter a trail in the woods. On the way, we passed a house where three 60s something men had a sound system with the Rocky I music. Everytime a runner passed their porch, they qued up the Rocky music, clapped, and yelled. Not long past there is where I closed in on the big guy wearing the skirt. After passing him and crossing the highway, I entered the trail where the running got tough. 

Part of the trail on the Dragonfly Tri

When I finished the trail and was back to the highway, a woman contestant came up and asked if I has seen Big Dave. 

"Who?"

"You know, the big guy. He hasn't come in."

"The guy wearing the skirt." I told her I passed him before we got to the highway but never saw him on the trail. But the trail has a lolly pop section where it makes a loop and comes back to itself. If he was on the loop, I would have missed him. I thought, if that big dude falls out on the trail, it will take ten men to drag him out.

I was doing a lot of walking at this point. But when I drew near to the Rocky house, I thought, I cannot walk past that house. I started back shuffling, and as soon as I came in sight of the porch, the Rocky music came on loud, the men cheered wildly, and clapped like their favorite football team had just scored the go-ahead touchdown. There might have been some cold beer involved, but they really did give me a lift.

I crossed the finish line in a very slow 2:58:48. They gave me a finisher's medal, a bottle of cold water, and a wet towel. I took that stuff to the covered area where they had put out watermelon and pizza for us. I took a seat and drank that water like I had just been rescued from the Sahara.

 

I took a pic of Timmy Farrish from Louisville, 
but I did not get one of Big Dave.

I went back to the finish line just in time to see Big Dave finish. That's when I realized how badly I had undersetimated his size. He was at leas 6'7" or 6'8" and must have weighed close to 400. I was thinking his head weighed 45 pounds or more. And he was still wearing that skirt. Go figure.

When I got home, CC wanted to get close.