My first leg...

This is the year T can’t make it, so we had reached out to a friend, Jay, to cover his portion. Keith took the bike. Jay’s gonna run. The Team Angry of prehistory. No team uniform yet, just me in my High School uniform, a fifteen year old black Lycra Speedo with a hole in the ass big enough to stick my leg through. Everybody else on the beach is in a wetsuit. Probably need them to account for the lack of buoyancy. My first college roommate once told me fat people swim better because they don’t have to struggle to float as much. I’m pretty sure I called him an idiot. Well, time to test that theory, Buddha, you fat piece of crap.

I look around, and wonder to myself who else in this crowd is approaching 40 and can still wear their high school uniform. Actually, probably all the earlier waves, but none of the Clydesdales. I look like a balloon animal with an elastic wrapped around the middle.

Before
We all congregate at the electronic starting gate, waiting to enter the water as a wave. I look up the shore, about a quarter mile, and see my parent’s house. I am pretty much in my own back yard here. There’s the family, there are the kids, there’s Meme & Papa. No problem.

The Clydesdales are sent into the water. I’m doing my stupid stretchy arm thing I do to loosen up when I am nervous. The countdown begins, and we are off. All right, let's go! I get whacked by three people within ten feet, and my old tournament animal instinct kicks in, and I swim over the next innocent bystander I see. Tee hee. Full contact swimming, almost as fun as water polo.

OK, I’m going fine. The rough water is a bit of a pain in the ass, but I’m doing ok. I look up, and the first turn is only about five hundred yards away. Head down, start swimming. I ease out to the fringe, and start swimming on the edge of the thundering herd. I look up, to make sure I’m going straight (where the hell are the lane markers?) about a minute later, and the first turn is…five hundred yards away. Damn, perspective sucks from here. Don’t sweat it, I’ll watch shore landmarks. There’s the house. It looks closer. Yay me. Ok, time to switch things up. After about five minutes, which should be about four hundred yards by now, I switch to breaststroke. I look at the first turn, which should be close by now.

And it looks five hundred yards away. Fuck! Am I swimming sideways? Well, at least I left a large chunk of the group behind me. Jay won’t be too far back when he starts the..

Ouch. Cramp. Left thigh. Ouch.

No big, I stop, tread water, and stretch it by bending over, into the water. It looks like a dead man’s float. It’ll be fine. Look at all these people pass me by. Better get going. The lifeguard in the green kayak starts to drift over, I wave her away. Thanks anyways Charlene.

So, on it goes. Twice more. At least I am making progress. The turn is finally about twenty five yards ahead. Literally behind the house. I spot a few of Dad’s golf balls on the lake bed. I keep going and WHAM! The other leg, calf this time.