Let's get it done!

OK, time to go through the checklist.

Speedo on? Check.

Time chip secure on my ankle? Check.

Bike on rack, not blocked by the cooler, bag, and K's lounge chair? Check.

Team Angry, ready to go? CHECK CHECK CHECK and CHECK! lets hit the beach!

We walk over, cross the river to the starting area, and mingle in the crowd. It's an ocean of wetsuits. Needless to say, Team Angry's official uniform makes an impression, as always. Complete strangers come over, as we say hi and chat. Family and friends take pictures. Stranger's family and friends take pictures. Joe, the Clydesdale favorite, comes over to wish us well. Damn, I love the Timberman.

There are two kinds of competitors. Those loving this and hiding any nervousness, and those who are focused and obviously nervous. Mostly about the swim. Which really surprises me. It's not even a half mile, and the deepest point is not even five feet. Oh well.

The Clydesdales are second wave, going off at 7:06 a.m. Nicki is 18 minutes later. We jump in the water, and it is gorgeous. Feels like about 76 degrees to me. Wetsuits are allowed. Ha! Wetsuits are for pussies. Which is actually 99.96% of the field. I see one non-Team Angry woman in a Speedo, and us. I retain my self satisfied sense of smugness as I watch all the body image cowards in their black rubber exposure suits.

The first wave has their countdown, and off they go! We walk through the timing gate, past the guy with the woman's wig, and into the water. Keith and I drift over to the left corner, to avoid the crowd. With a last round of fist bumps, and a see you at the finish line, we get set. Our countdown comes, the horn blows, and off we go.

The swim was without incident. I felt good, didn't swim over anyone, and only kicked two people in the teeth when I switched to breaststroke. My split says it was slower than last year, but my ranking went up, and it felt great. I suspect it was slightly longer than last year. people were walking in from 75 yards out. I swam till I almost ran out of water, and finished with 4 butterfly strokes, to stretch out. I hit the beach running harder than any other year, sprinted past all the people being helped out of their wetsuits, high fived the family on my way by, and got on my shoes, grabbed the bike, and zoom! Right back out, onto the bike course.

Here is Team Angry Junior Varsity! They should be racing this weekend, as long as the newest hurricane passes NH.