It started with a quasi-terrorist threat on my flight out to Tampa, which resulted in an emergency landing in New Mexico and a subsequent three hour delay. In addition, there was a one year old who cried bloody murder in the row in front of me the ENTIRE red-eye flight.
I broke my goggles the day before the race and had to frantically search the expo for a comparable pair. Later that day at the athlete briefing, I found out my USAT elite membership had expired and I was unable to race. After bickering with a stubborn official, who took his job way too seriously, I was finally able to renew my membership (only after writing a $100 check) and thus cleared to race.
When I toed the line at 6:52am on Sunday, I should have known based on what I had already endured that weekend, this was not going to be the best race of my life. And with that, it was NOT. Instead, it was a sub-par race, and one in which I could never find a rhythm. I finished 22nd in 1:59:53 and felt completed defeated.
But wait, the weekend wasn’t over. The next morning, my 7am flight was cancelled and I was re-routed to Atlanta where I would subsequently sit standby on three flights before I was able to go home. After 6 hours at the Atlanta airport, I was finally heading home! I arrived in LA 17 hours after the fact, only to find that my luggage and bike box had been displaced somewhere in the Midwest!
I write this now a day later. I’m home, my bag and bike box were just delivered, and I’m about to go to bed and wake up for the start of this year’s Santa Monica ocean speed circuits and I couldn’t be happier!
I’m heading up north later this week for my favorite race, Escape from Alcatraz, and I already know it will be a better experience than Florida, for I’m driving not flying!
Thanks for checking in, talk soon!