New Orleans Bake sale

Pretty quick and down to it race report straight out of the Big Easy. Being the first race of the year, I always get a kick out of all the simple small things I seem to forget or ignore. You know, like if you wanna go fast take in a lot of calories on the bike. And get to the race venue plenty early so you're not stressed and dodging around at the last minute trying to get it all together. A really cool part of this race was being able to take Subie, the Subaru Outback, for the weekend. Those cars are super cool, and it's a close 2nd behind the 1960's VW minibus in pimp wheels. So I got Subie all loaded up with race gear, including my dad (Tha Bear) who made a game time decision to come check out the race.  We hit I-10 and got to New Orleans just in time for some random bum to charge me $20 to not steal the bikes off the roof, I mean charge me $20 to park in a parking spot owned by the city. Ah, New Orleans, where greed and corruption filter all the way down to the street people. It's like I never left! Anyway, after some weaving and moving, I got my race packet with a shirt and water bottle. At least they didn't cheese up the packets with beads. That would have been too much. 

Race day and the trek to BFE for the swim start came WAY too early. However, the good thing about a race in New Orleans is that half the city is still up at 5am. 2% of those are sober enough to walk, but their up nonetheless. In transition to get all the gear prepped, and here was my one true gripe of the race. Sure, the race had some studs out there. But to not know Natascha Badmann's ENTIRE palmares when you know other minor pro's notable results is unforgivable. This Swiss Miss has more Ironman victories than half of the girls' podium finishes that the announcer did talk about, combined. Of course, she did go and annihilate the course, so she got the last laugh. Anyway, after a bus ride to the swim start, it was another half mile hike to the actual swim start. A quick wetsuit zip for my friend Chris Lieto (I'm like a big Internet star here, I can't act like I'm star struck cause Chris Lieto asked me to zip his wetsuit. Ok, seriously, good thing the wetsuit doesn't have pockets. Autographs and pics for sure along with automatic facebook update via iPhone that I'm kickin it with Chris). Enough chatting with Chris, I got a race to do.

We get in the water, and as much as the transfer and walk sucked, the swim was awesome. Point to point, swimming as far or close to the sea wall as you wanted. I had ZERO contact, and missed the lead group of 3 swimmers because I was following the only drunk guy who made the swim start. The rest was uneventful, and I'm happy to report that I didn't bump into any creatures or dead body's that the mob disposed of during the swim. I've still got my fingers crossed for no crazy infections post-swim. It was exciting to come out of the water at the pointy end of the race, and the banana hammock steed of a bike was ready to roll. The bike was all Louisiana had to offer. You had terrible roads, some wicked misplaced asphalt, swamp grass, mountainous overpass climbs, drunk guys in white shrimpin boots at 8am, and burnt stripped down stolen cars pushed in the bayou. It was truly a tour of Louisiana for all those that got on the bike course. The wind and some planning kept the drafting down, so that was cool to see. The headwind on the way back was wicked. At the last aid station, they were kind enough to give me a gatorade with the plastic under the cap still attached. Watching me open that with one hand would have made a good YouTube. T2 was lookin sweet as I was the 3rd amateur to come in off the bike. T2 took close to an hour.

On the run, I brought my Moroccan shakers with me. Or that's what my salt pills and jelly beans sounded like. I'll save the details, but the run was on point till about mile 4 or 5. Then things got really dizzy, I got really hot, and I really needed some ice. I would have traded you a 10 pound bag of ice for my bike, straight up, on Sunday. I was that desperate. Then there was "rumor" that I asked a random spectator if he had an extra coke. All he had was his half drank one, and offered it. I took it and guzzled, even as his girlfriend screamed, "Wait, that has bourbon in it." Ah yes, New Orleans. But like a true southern gentleman he said, "I didn't mix it yet. I'd never give away a bourbon and coke, love." You sir, would be my hero if that story were true. But like I said, it was just a rumor. Anyway, the detonation and blow up on the run was especially painful. The only thing that made it semi-acceptable was that Desiree Ficker insisted on running with me. Ok, she would really run passed me, stop, regroup, re-pass me, stop, regroup. This went on for 7 or 8 miles. It was a lovely first date, but I told her we are just leading different lives, and it's pry best if that's the only time we see each other. 

One bright spot in the race was the finish line. A bunch of my friends and family were down in the quarter. I wanna believe it was to watch the finish, but it's pretty easy to convince people to come down to the French Quarter. Chris and Stacey came with their daughter to check it all out. Stacey thought it was crazy, Chris thought it was cool. Audrey thought it was fun when post-race we were speaking the same language.

Seriously, the race I've been dreaming about was 2/3rds complete when the hatchet came down on the run. And it's hard to remember all the good when the last thing is the run. But it's a great way to start the '09 season, and it was a good reminder to keep training. It's only April, and we got a million miles to go....