 |
| Me exiting the water with my oversized belly. |
This race has huge emotional pulls for me. I did the first one in 1980 back when you wrote a check and licked a stamp to register for a race. I did the first six, then was off eighteen years and started back in 2004. Since my comeback, I think I have missed three. Anyway, starting in 2021, Shay and I along with a runner he has recruited have entered as a team. We were the overall winners in the relay division in both 2021 and 2022. Not this year.
The weather was bad when we showed up at Lake Tiak O' Khata around 5:30 a.m. Saturday morning. The race starts at 6:30, but I wanted time to warmup without a rush. I didn't get it.
Due to the cloud cover, it was dark much later than normal. I know people swim that lake everyday, but I am not climbing into natural water in Mississippi in the dark. Then there was the lightning. It was flashing out there pretty good. I was afraid they would cancel the swim. They did postpone it first by fifteen minutes, then by another five. Finally, they called us to get in line and start the race.
It was still raining and lightning. You should have heard the banter in that line as we prepared to have our go at the lake. One guy asked, "How close does lightning have to hit to kill you? Ten feet?"
I answered, "I think it's a little farther than that. Like 1,000 feet."
Another guy said, "I want to die with my friends."
I responded, "You have friends here?" I didn't know anybody in line.
Somebody else said, "How many people die per year from lightning while swimming?"
I asked, "How many people swim each year while it's lightning?"
A few people dropped out. A few moved from their place in the line to the back of the line, thinking, I suppose, that more time would mean less danger. I just wanted my chance at the water. Oh, and nobody warmed up. Nobody.
When it came my time to go, I started a little slower and tried to ease into my pace. Swimming at any pace before the body is warmed up to it is a painful thing. At least it always has been for me. It wasn't too bad, however, and after a couple of hundred yards, I fell into a strong, but what I felt like was a sustainable pace. "I can do this," I kept telling myself. "I can hold this pace all the way."
And I did. The muscles of my triceps and rear deltoids were hurting, but I knew I could hold. I passed swimmer after swimmer, and each time I did, I got a charge out of it. Once, while taking a breath, I saw the sky light up with a lightning flash. Yeah, we were swimming in that.
When I got out, somebody yelled, "Shay is over there," and pointed me his way. Shay snatched that chip off me like he was stealing it and was off in a flash. I made my way to Penny's truck, and we headed out towards T 2, the bicycle/run transition.
On our way south on Highway 15, we passed cyclist after cyclist. Finally, we saw Shay and he was in the aero position. He looked strong and comfortable.
 |
| Shay doing his leg of the tri. |
 |
| Ben leaving T 2. Shay's wife, Shelley, took this photo. In fact, she took the other photos in this post. |
I finally got changed, and Penny and I headed for the Fair. When we made it to the grandstands, the sky opened up again. We sat in the dry while we watched the runners come it. I saw an old training partner, Mark Waldrup, come in strong for a new PR. I saw a runner who had been about a mile ahead of Ben come in. I recognized him because he was very tall and ran shirtless. Ben ran onto the track about a minute later and almost caught this guy. Ben was pushing it hard, and as soon as he crossed the line, he collapsed. They scooped him up and took him to the medical tent. His knee was hurting, and his face didn't look too good either. I thought, they used to shoot horses when they got like this, didn't they?
 |
| You can't really see it in this photo, but it's raining cows and goats out there. |
Now we just had to wait to find out our fate. Since the start is staggered, just because you cross the line ahead of someone else doesn't necessarily mean you beat them. After our runner had been in a few minutes, I went to the timing table and got a printout of our results. They had us listed at first of five. That would be the first of five male teams. I was sure a women's team couldn't beat us and was doubtful a mixed team could.
A good while later, I went back for another printout that I was sure would settle the issue. This on showed us a two of five. Huh? That started me asking questions. If another team had come it with a faster time since the last time I checked, we should have been two of six. One of the ladies attempted an explanation. There was indeed another team who had a faster time. That team would be the overall winner. Our team would be the first male team winner, so we were one of five.
Did I tell you how long I have lusted after one of those silver trays they give as awards? Forty-three years. For forty-three years I have wanted one of those trays. The overall relay winning team gets a batan. Huh? Yeah, I have two batans at home. Now since we got edged out in the competition, I finally have my tray. Yes, I cried. I am now as I type this. I am thinking of getting my lazy butt up and mounting that thing in Plate City. It will be there to remind me when I am out there and not feeling like working hard to get with it and do the work.
I didn't sandbag to get the tray. I swam faster than in 2022. When you are my age and beat your time from a year ago, you are doing something. I know I can do even better. I plan to swim faster next year. We had some problems this year. Ben shot himself in the knee with a nail gun. I injured my left shoulder at Pool Fools, so our training was hampered. If we can all stay healthy, maybe we can be the top team again in 2024. If not, I'll get another tray.
 |
| The top male team in the State with our trays. |
No comments:
Post a Comment