Today I cheered on Mr. P as he swam one-half mile, biked 12 miles, and ran 3 miles in the Webster Lake Triathlon in Webster, MA. Webster Lake is also known as Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg, which has gained worldwide attention for its farcical linguistic excesses, including 9 instances of the letter A (“more than any other word in the English language”, says Wikipedia here, although I’ll challenge its Englishness) and a stunning 15 G’s.
During the race I waited by the transition area with the rest of the spectators and watched minor chaos ensue due to the poorly-planned course. First, the swimmers had to run barefoot on a half-mile of concrete to get from the lake to their bikes. There were no signs routing them onto the cycling course, no signs routing the bicyclists back into the transition area to drop off their bikes, and no signs directing them onto the running course. Confusion reigned. There were four yelling and pointing volunteers: A man and three pre-teen girls. At one point, the girls were yelling and pointing “To the right! To the right!” not realizing that their right was actually the athletes’ left.
Mr. P finished admirably, especially considering he is in the most competitive age group. As usual, he kicked ass in the swimming, fell behind in the cycling, and held his own in the running. I know I just posted a picture of him yesterday, but I really like the before-race (below left) and after-race (below right) juxtaposition.
