IM 70.3 NOLA Pre race

Rule number one of the trip was that we couldn't eat at any chain restaurants. As you can imagine, there's not much other than chain places along the Interstate. But, as we got further south, the BBQ fragrant grew stronger and finally there was an interchange just north of the Mississippi state line that included a sign for Chubby's BBQ. It was perfect. Set back from the highway just a bit, it was a small red building surrounded by gravel. The drive through window was just a window off the kitchen, without the efficiency of a dual driveway, multiwindow system that McDonald's offers. Inside, there were smoke stained walls, adorned with smoke stained tchotchkes and random pictures and letters, all of which were hung on plywood walls, trimmed by more plywood. It was like painting white on white, you know you just painted, but you have to be at just the right angle to see the difference. When we walked in, the piano player didn't have to stop and no heads turned to see the yankee triathletes walk in, mainly because no one was there. So, we settled into a table and picked up a menu to review our choices. Since there were so many great ones, Chris and I split the "Killer Combo" which offered a sampling of their seven main BBQ items. Stu and Michelle got some sandwiches, and our server took our order to the back and instantly came out with our food. The combo was divided amongst three plates, all heaping with meat. It included pulled pork, ribs, chicken, sliced pork, sliced beef, and a couple others. Add to that three sides of cajun fries, onion rings and baked beans. Throw some white toast on top and you've got a meal! It was awesome. It didn't take us too long to put it all down, grab a bumper sticker, pay and get Michelle out of there.

We finally arrived at the house in New Orleans at 3 AM. The house was simply awesome. Right in the heart of New Orleans, just minutes from the French Quarter and downtown, it was the perfect spot for nine triathletes to hang out under one roof bonding, talking about tri, and just being foolish.

After trying to sleep in Thursday, we got up to check out the transition. From there, we got in a quick run to the swim start. It wasn't even that hot, but we were definitely feeling it. Later that afternoon, we made our way to the French Quarter and Bourbon St. It seemed they were still cleaning from Mardi Gras, as workers were pulling beads from all kinds of places. That evening Charlie and Lisa picked us up for dinner at a local spot and a quick tour of the City. It was crazy to see brand new homes reconstructed right next to homes that still had FEMA trailers out front. Abandoned homes still had the rescue/search codes in faded spray paint adorning the exterior. Lisa talked about one wide median where all the rubble was piled on to. It was three stories high and prevented anybody from recognizing their home street. As far as New Orleans has come since the hurricane, there seemed to be the need to do a lot more.

From dinner we hit Bourbon St. at night, which was a much more enjoyable experience than in the day. Although we were there early, signs of people partying were starting to sneak up on us.

On Friday we set out to Lake Pontchartrain and test out the waters. The wind was out of the north, giving it plenty of time to rile up the waves in the lake. At the shore where we climbed in, there were 2-3 foot waves which threw us around. It felt a bit like swimming in a roller coaster. However, Charlie promised that come Sunday, the wind would be out of the south and the lake would be calm.

After the swim, we met up with more teammates, and had a chance to sit down with PROs Chris McDonald, Heather Gollnick, Linsey Corbin, and Desiree Ficker. I had the honorable duty to pick up Chris from his hotel and even got to videotape the interviews, which will be released as a ZippCast in the near future. Chris and Linsey stayed around for more questions for a CycleOps podcast. All were incredibly nice and totally cool. Friday finished with waiting in tons of lines to register with another dinner at a local spot right by the convention center.

As Charlie promised, the winds changed directions Saturday, and we tried swimming again, this time in much calmer waters. Then, back to the house and one final check of the bikes before dropping them off in transition. Having all the bikes and everyone together allowed us to take some team shots. The night capped off with final packing and nervous energy preparing for the next day's race. Everyone was too busy thinking about their day and the last minute bottle and nutrition checks to even think about looking at the weather forecasts. Or, if they did, they neglected to tell me about it.

And then it was Race Day. A quick check of the weather and revealed a small 72 in the lower right corner. Could that be right? 72 degrees at 5 AM? Ouch. Stepping outside to load up the van, the humidity slapped me in the face. I had instant flashbacks to my 2005 Ironman in Wisconsin. Only I didn't have a full summer of heat acclimation on which to rely. I had a full winter of riding in my 45-degree basement with only a fan to provide a light breeze and all runs completed in sub-freezing temps and windchills.

Transition was a buzz from the get go. I set up my stuff, found Chris and we set off to the shuttle bus. Ah, make that we set off for the swim start on foot, mine bare, as the shuttle lines were a bit crowded and likely not going to get us there before our wave started. My over anxious self was ready to go with the PROs, but I settled in to wait for my wave. Luckily I didn't have to wait too long. My age group was the first to go, and I was in the second of two, fourth on the day. As usual, I found a spot near the front, and settled in. The water was calm and I breathed deep. The ten second warning was announced and then I was off.