Brigdeport thou hast been Bitched Stomped!!!!

Yep that's right despite having too much electrolyte drink on the bike, swallowing about two gallons of sea water water on the swim, cramping like nobody's business on the run, and missing my podium due to GI distress, I manage to persevere and Bitch Stomp the rest of my age group, (winning by a hard fought 20 seconds.) Here's how it went down: ( note I have no clue who team mossman is using for results so I'll have splits posted later in the week....month....year....whenever I can find them.....)

The Swim: Two loops of Salty Goodness.
The more I do these Salt Water Tris, the more I'm finding a love hate relationship developing
Love: Waves and current can give me a favorable time boost if the conditions are right.
Love: Some of my Fastest Splits Have been in Salt Water
Love: Cool ocean Temperatures make my wetzoot nice and comfortable allowing optimum performance.
Hate: Salty Water Taste ( oh how I pine for West Hill Lake.....Friday night.), Jelly Fish and the stings thereof, low tide messing with my swim exit, did I mention the dehydrating pure salt taste of Long Island Sound?, Having to soak all my tri gear in fresh Water to get rid of Ocean Residue.
Well all my gripes aside the swim was actually pretty enjoyable today. As I started wide and cut my way in toward the first bouy. Once again I had managed to get toward the front, yet now I found my self in a 5 person wrestling match as we fought for the same water. I decided to get on the feet of the fastest guy and followed his line to the next four bouys. By the turn at the beach It was a four man breakaway. I talked to the leader ( some German/Dutch/Danish Dude From NYC who said his sole goal was to win the swim. As we Started our in the Water Jog around the bouy. It was at this point I decided that my wetzoot was not made for running and as soon as I found waist deep water I started to swim for the first bouy. It was about this time No Wet Suit Guy ( I'm not sure if there's a relation to No Wet Suit Girl...don't think so but it proves that there are more people than Claire that go sans Neoprene.) darted around me and the race leader and quickly got a 25 yard lead. I passed the dude from NYC as we turned at the first bouy and made chase after No Wet suit Guy. It was about this time that we caught the slow pack form the third and second waves ( Angry and I had left in the first because hey we're young and studly like that.) When we got to the Beach No Wet Suit Guy was 10 yards ahead and I was being chased by a National Team Memember.... as I entered T-1 in second place.
T-1: I think all distances should have wet suit strippers.
The National team memember passed me as I struggled to get my feet out of the wetsuit. I put on my helmet and sunglasses & shoelessly ran out the Bitch Stomper. As I got to the mount line I realized I should never use elasttics to keep my shoes upright again and lost two spots and a precious three seconds as I unhooked my shoes from my water bottles rode on them barefoot for a quarter mile before slipping in like a pro.
The Bike: Go Bitch Stomper! Go Bitch Stomper! Go Bitch Stomper Go! or less HEED is more .
The bike for this thing was flat as a panacake, the only work was the head wind on the front half. I was passed by about ten people through out the course of the 5 loops of the bike. Now Today I broke one of the Ten Commandments of triathlon and the Tri Gods Pimped smacked me across the face deservingly. Last night I decided to take Hammer Nutrition.com's advice and put two scoops of HEED in my aero drink instead of my usual one....the results were disasterous....my electrolyte mix was too damn sweet and I would lose more precious milli-seconds grabbing my water bottles...I also sacrificed one bottle to dillute the sickly sweet mess in my aero drink...the bottom line I took in too much fluid and I knew I was going to be a suffering bastard on the run...so in hind sight follow tri commandment Number 3 " Do not change your previously established routines on race day." One each of the loops as I passed the far turn around I would ride by Angry Runner who was maybe half to quarter of a lap behind and each loop he would say something different.
Loop 1: "Bitch Stomper!"
Loop2: "I'm going to pyramid like we'd dicussed"
Loop3: "Why Haven't you lapped me already?"
Loop4: "The guy infront of you doesn't deserve that aero helmet."..or some thing to that affect....I really don't know I was in the zone
Loop5: Too busy trying to chase down 40 something who passed me on a road bike. granted he was a lap behind.
Some equipment failure did befall the bitch stomper on her madein voyage. At the far turn we were greeted by the roughest strech of Pavement in Fairfield County, the bolt holding my seat to the post shook loose. Also my computer shit the bed as I tried to reset it after my warm up ride, hence I have no clue how fast I was going...all I know is my sister got mostly shots of my back of my (borrowed) HEAT jersey as I rode by which is what my competition was seeing all day. As I came in off the last hairpin I decided that it was a logical execution of opportunity to do my sexy shoeless dismount...which went off almost flawless, ( I scraped my foot a little on my dismount.)
T-2 I feel like I'm going to puke ...damn it I'm not going to puke on an Olympic Tri.
My stomach was cramping and unsettled as I slipped on my running shoes and threw on my Timex Visor. I took off out of transition behind a guy from Team Runner's Edge as we chased down a memeber of the dreaded Cycle Center Squad. At the Half-mile mark I got around the Runner's Edge guy but could only hold him for 400 meters before he re passed me at the turn around and he and the Cycle Center Runner began to pull away, from my semi-hydrated yet, GI distressed self. I passed Angry as he made his way up to the turn around I shouted to him. " Get Pissed off!" He shouted back " You got another guy from Heat up in about 4th palce reel him in. " the sad thing is I do know the other HEATster that was man handling me ( met him at Central during masters...(sigh I miss it already.) his bike split is freaking phenominal) but I can't remember his name ( I do know he is one of the IM USA wrecking crew.) I saw another memember of team Blazeman (War on ALS) ( Nick) as he ran by I shouted out a "Go Warrior!" To him and it helpped perk him up a he suffered through the run ( coming off of the Lake Placid, Timberman Combo as I would find out when we talked post race.). As I passed the turn around ( and took in more water, hey I needed it it was freaking humid GI distress or not.) was met by some encouragement from some fellow HEATsters as I heard 3 or 4 shouts of Go HEAT! and I gave a shout of the same phrase to my teamate that was manhandling the competiton and any other Heatster that was wearing the gear. As I ran to the second turn around still feeling the cramps I saw on guy fom my age group on his first lap cramping and doing the run/walk of doom. ( I went through that at mile 23 on my marathon.) I gave hima pat on the back and " Come on man you got this." as I ran past. I took two waters at the turn aid station as my mouth felt like sandpaper, my body felt like it was overheating, and my stomach was chiming in with " You asshole I can't take anymore fluid." I watch disheartened as an XC stud from Marist Clad in his full running gear flew Past me and some of the older guys I was struggling with. . I ran by Angry and after a high five and a "pick them off one at a time" I surged. I passed three guys before my stomach brought me back to reality with a " if you keep this shit up I'm going to puke. " Once again I shouted a "Go Warrior !"to Nick as he plowed on his way to the turn around. Again I surged and again I was bitch smacked by my aching stomach. I passed the final aid staiton and began my 400 meter approach through a tunnel of people.Shouts of "You got this! Go Heat! Almost there! " echoed accross the road. I saw the finish line clock 2:17.59 I crossed hand pointed skyward because I knew there were some people on the other side that were keeping me going. ( you know God, dead Realtives, the Blazeman, Angry's mom with a quiver of wooden spoons.) 2:18 was my finish time. I grabbed a sobe life water and a wet rag which quickly feel to the sand. I slowly sipped the life water but it did nothing for the cramps as My cheering section ( Christina and Julia) made our way toward the the finish line to watch for Angry. I saw another Heatster finish, then I was doubled over with cramps, I would straighten up watch 2..3...5..guy finish then again collaspe with cramps...watched angry come in locked in a battle with an old Guy shouted at him to push! he edged him out on the Line. Nick the Balzeman Warrior was a few seconds behind and ran accross the line. No log roll...as he put it as we BSed after the race..."If I rolled I don't think I'd be able to get up." Bsed with Nick Then BSed with Angry. collasped on a towel in transition as Angry packed his shit. "Dude you are really fucked up aren't you?" " GI distress...too much HEED!" man this is a complete turn around normally he's the one suffering GI failure . I went to pack my crap. Collasped on my towel with cramps...to some it would look like I was a Muslim at prayer as I knelt on on my Transition mat trying to compress the pain out of my mid section. After dropping my gear to the car I ran to the bath room. Sat down and well...you get the picture...go to get toliet paper. there is none. Hear angry calling for me..Call out to him to get me some napkins from the snack bar. He comes back with them for me just as they announce I've won my age group. I finish my business and dash for the podium I'm too late for the pic but I get my goodie bag. Go back and finish business. Grap a thing of Pretzels and Angry and I bs through the giveaways. the Cramps start to subside but are still there...go to med tent ( ie an Ambulance with two EMT) ask for tums or rolaids don't have any. Go back to the car drive home. un pack my crap, before doing 2 of the 4 s's and heading to lunch. Come home collaspe on the couch for 3 hours. Write on the blog about my exploits and then take out trash. All in all it's been a Hell of a day.
R.D.