IMWI 2010 Race Report - Headin' to Madison

The drive down was uneventful. Lots of good laughs with MS and CS. Stopped to eat at a little diner, "The Timber Valley Restaurant," on the way and had two breakfasts in one sitting. As we were leaving CS spied a woodcarving by the gas pumps. "Hey, why don't you guys go hump that thing?" Well, you don't have to ask me and MS twice to hump something.



MS brought a sign for our car.


"Yes, we're MEAN"

Got to Monona Terrace and got checked in. Shot texts and emails around to everyone trying to meet up, but everyone was spread all over. Had a good time messing with all the tightly wound athletes and some of the far too serious volunteers. I was getting "elevator eyes" (dooown, up) while we were waiting in line (it wasn't just me, certain people were sizing up everyone.) Really? Get over yourself already. At weigh-in I stepped on the scale and then threw an absolute fit. "THAT NUMBER IS NOT RIGHT! Wait, let me take off my shirt. Don't write anything yet. I bet it's my pants, let me take those off. No? I WANT A DIFFERENT SCALE." To CS who was standing at the next scale. "GET OFF OF THERE. I NEED A DIFFERENT SCALE. MINE'S OBVIOUSLY BROKEN!" CS & MS were laughing as was the volunteer at my scale, but CS's volunteer looked a little concerned. CS assured her I was joking.

Had more fun with everyone getting our packets. I breezed right through, for some reason, and as I kept moving I was making loud comments about "priority check-in," "special privileges," "I'm #1." The guy following me was having a good time with it. Other people seemed to wonder what I knew that they had missed. (I am so obnoxious when I'm nervous.)

I wandered up to the expo to find a couple people while the girlies finished up.

The new TYR rep for our region used to live by my sister and we had talked about a week before so I found him and we chatted at the expo. He offered to lend me his TYR Hurricane Cat 5 wetsuit and I said, "Sure, why not just use everything for the first time on race day. Think I'll go buy some K-Swiss shoes, too."

Plans to go for a swim ride and run went by the wayside as we were running out of time and the water was super choppy. Choppy water doesn't bother me, but I figured why exhaust myself. If it's choppy on race day I'll deal with it then.

We checked into the hotel. Unknown to me I have Starwood Preferred Super Diamond Special Platinum Secret Agent status so I got a room on the "Club Level." Sounds fancy, right? It just means I have to use my room key to get the elevator to that floor - which is a huge pain in the ass - and the "lounge" is on that floor - whatevs. The room is the same as everyone elses. My room was the first off the elevator and next to the ice machine. I asked to move rooms right away and they moved me to the "murder suite" - the room at the very end of the hall next to the fire escape where someone can murder you and run down the stairs and never be found. Stellar.

CS & I went to a late lunch/early dinner at Monty's Blue Plate Diner while MS met up with her training group for dinner. I had found this place highly recommended online and it had a great reputation for vegetarian food. I'm not a vegetarian, but I'll eat it if it's good as it tends to be easier on my nervous stomach and gives me gas which is always a good tension breaker.

We both had "Meatless Meatloaf of the Gods" and it was SO good I wanted to climb under it like a comforter and pull the gravy/sauce up under my chin. (My mouth is watering just thinking about it.)

We headed back down to the capital and CS & I hung at Starbucks while we waited for the athlete's dinner to finish and the "mandatory meeting" to start. We struck up a conversation with a woman whose husband was doing his first IM. She was funny and all the complaints and stories she told us about living with an obsessed triathlete mirrored exactly the events that happened at my house. I kept telling her she had to commiserate with my wife as they had the same experience. The TYR rep met us at Starbucks with his wetsuit, so I got to walk into the athlete's meeting with my wetsuit under my arm. I guess it's better than walking in with bike shoes and compression socks on.

The "mandatory meeting" was a hoot (not really.) What I gleaned from the whole thing can be boiled down to: Wear your mother fucking chip! DO NOT piss or shit in public, mother fucker! Oh, and don't draft, but it'll be nearly impossible to draft since this bike course will make you it's bitch before you're done! Good luck. (Hope you survive, mother fuckers.) I can't play anything straight so I was cracking jokes the whole time and had CS in hysterics and the other people around us snickering and shaking in their seats. (No need to fart to break the tension at this venue, thank god.)

From there it was back to the hotel to put some of our shit together, try on my wetsuit and hop on my bike (I brought my trainer since I hadn't had a chance to actually ride my bike outside.) After struggling into my wetsuit over the course of 20 minutes, I was sweating profusely, dehydrated, had a dislocated shoulder, a strained hamstring, two torn meniscus and was too exhausted to get on the bike for more than 5 minutes. Oh, well. Off too bed. (The wetsuit did fit perfectly, btw.)

Next up: Saturday (hopefully more pictures for the word reading impaired/disinterested and D.)