Okay. You all wanted to hear this one.
2006.
This is the year we are all doing the Timberman Individually.
I had trained, a bit. Had the swim. I was ready for the bike. This is the first time Team Angry had a full showing. Todd is there. Captain K is there. I am there.
I puked, as always, on the way down to the starting point.
We stroll in. The volunteers marked our age, and the big C on our calves. We head down to the water together, joking, keeping it loose. Chatting with friends and acquaintances. I spot a lawyer friend from home, we see Team Flashner. The family is out in full force.
I hit the water, and almost immediately my chip comes off my leg. Luckily, the person I just passed grabbed me and gave it to me. I put it back on, and got going. The swim went well, I caught up to a few people in the prior waves, left a lot of people behind, and came in better than halfway through the entire pack, 416 out of 948.
Ok, pretty happy with myself. I even butterflied the last 10 yards, just to make my point.
I ran into the transition area, Shoes, socks, shirt, and headed out.
Onto the bike, quick right turn, then up the hill.
I was already hearing “Hey, OLD SCHOOL!” from behind, mostly because of the bike rack. I get to the top of the first hill, about 1.5 miles into it, and it happens.
The guardrail leaps right out in front of me.
Actually, somebody passed me, I was going to slow, wobbled, and hit the guardrail with my right shin. Hurt life a motherfucker.
Which I then said. I stopped, and looked. “Gee, that looks like blood. Kinda a lot, too.” Maybe I should do something about this other than swear?.? So I did step one in my lifeguard handbook. I rolled up my sock, took a few steps, to make sure nothing was broken, and got back on the bike.
As previously expressed from last year, I would rather die, with my sweet old mother watching me go down to a watery grave than not finish this damned race. So I start pumping, glad beyond expression that I am near the summit of this hill. I get to coast for about a half mile, taking stock, readjusting my GI Joe bandage, and just curse myself for my clumsiness.
Long story short, I finished the bike (937th) (How the hell did I still beat 9 people?) and headed out of the run transition. Only 3 miles to go. Past the family. Twice. The homestead as right at the one mile mark, so I sucked it up, and kicked it into a jog. Dad’s there, the kids, the spouses, and Cory, from Team Flashner. As they all cheer encouragement, Cory starts to jog along.
“Hey there Curt Schilling….what’s going on down there?”
“Shh…don’t tell Mom, she’ll freak.”
“Ok Dude, go easy”
“Urrmph”
So on I went, actually slowing to a walk, but kept going.
Those last hundred yards were the best of my life. K & T, done hours before (of a race I finished in 2:14) were pre-warned by Cory. I didn’t even get to the transition area, they walked me over to the EMT tent. Where one of Gilford’s finest pealed down my sock, and said, quite matter of factly
2006.
This is the year we are all doing the Timberman Individually.
I had trained, a bit. Had the swim. I was ready for the bike. This is the first time Team Angry had a full showing. Todd is there. Captain K is there. I am there.
I puked, as always, on the way down to the starting point.
We stroll in. The volunteers marked our age, and the big C on our calves. We head down to the water together, joking, keeping it loose. Chatting with friends and acquaintances. I spot a lawyer friend from home, we see Team Flashner. The family is out in full force.
I hit the water, and almost immediately my chip comes off my leg. Luckily, the person I just passed grabbed me and gave it to me. I put it back on, and got going. The swim went well, I caught up to a few people in the prior waves, left a lot of people behind, and came in better than halfway through the entire pack, 416 out of 948.
Ok, pretty happy with myself. I even butterflied the last 10 yards, just to make my point.
I ran into the transition area, Shoes, socks, shirt, and headed out.
Onto the bike, quick right turn, then up the hill.
I was already hearing “Hey, OLD SCHOOL!” from behind, mostly because of the bike rack. I get to the top of the first hill, about 1.5 miles into it, and it happens.
The guardrail leaps right out in front of me.
Actually, somebody passed me, I was going to slow, wobbled, and hit the guardrail with my right shin. Hurt life a motherfucker.
Which I then said. I stopped, and looked. “Gee, that looks like blood. Kinda a lot, too.” Maybe I should do something about this other than swear?.? So I did step one in my lifeguard handbook. I rolled up my sock, took a few steps, to make sure nothing was broken, and got back on the bike.
As previously expressed from last year, I would rather die, with my sweet old mother watching me go down to a watery grave than not finish this damned race. So I start pumping, glad beyond expression that I am near the summit of this hill. I get to coast for about a half mile, taking stock, readjusting my GI Joe bandage, and just curse myself for my clumsiness.
Long story short, I finished the bike (937th) (How the hell did I still beat 9 people?) and headed out of the run transition. Only 3 miles to go. Past the family. Twice. The homestead as right at the one mile mark, so I sucked it up, and kicked it into a jog. Dad’s there, the kids, the spouses, and Cory, from Team Flashner. As they all cheer encouragement, Cory starts to jog along.
“Hey there Curt Schilling….what’s going on down there?”
“Shh…don’t tell Mom, she’ll freak.”
“Ok Dude, go easy”
“Urrmph”
So on I went, actually slowing to a walk, but kept going.
Those last hundred yards were the best of my life. K & T, done hours before (of a race I finished in 2:14) were pre-warned by Cory. I didn’t even get to the transition area, they walked me over to the EMT tent. Where one of Gilford’s finest pealed down my sock, and said, quite matter of factly
So I look down, and found out that I can actually look at my own exposed
Went to the hospital, patched me up by 1:30, so that I could make it back the Gunstock to go see Tim, and the rest of Team Angry, Jr division, compete in their trialtlon.
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