Don talked me into signing up for the Mountain Man Sprint Triathlon on Sunday. My hubris seems to have gotten the best of me these days - my whole, "it's only a sprint" attitude almost did me in.
A little bit of organizational disappointment first. They've been doing this race for over 25 years. This year they say that they had to split the sprint distance from the Olympic and half and have it on another day because of the crowds. Not sure about that explanation. It sounds like an excuse to get another entry fee out of people.
Anyway, their permit was for 650 entrants. Don and I signed up on race day and we were race numbers 220 & 221 and there were 364 starters at the race but they didn't have any race t-shirts! I kid you not, one of the things I most look forward to is getting a new t-shirt from a race. This strikes me a very unprofessional. They discounted our race entry by $5 but I think that what they should have said was that they would send us a shirt after the race. As I said, very unprofessional. It would be like running out of finisher medals at the end.
Another thing that they did wrong, and quite a few race organizers do this as well; they didn't have enough racks and transition stations. I don't know what they accomplish by making people squeeze their bikes together so close. I saw one woman threaten to smack a guy who spoke very little English because he moved her transition bag 1 foot so his back tire wouldn't hit it.
I had some very unusual problems in the swim. I just couldn't catch my breath. I'm usually bad in the swim but in this short 750 meter swim I was afraid I was going to panic and if I started to panic I was thinking that I was going to die because nobody was watching for people in trouble 100 yards from the finish. What happened was that I wasn't feeling great in the first 250 yards, but that isn't unusual. The second 250 were better but I still couldn't find a rhythm. I was doing everything right, at least I though I was. I was concentrating on breathing out in the water, rotating, catching, pulling, etc. It just worked out that I couldn't swim more than 5 or 10 strokes without gasping for air. I finally turned for the last 250 back home and the wheels really came off the bus. I couldn't swim freestyle and it seemed like I wasn't getting anywhere with the breaststroke. All of a sudden I totally started hyperventilating. I kept trying to calm myself down but nothing worked. Finally, in spite of how rotten it felt I floated on my back and just pushed my way to shore. It felt like an eternity. When I got out of the water I was totally disoriented. Every step I took forward I fell two steps to the left. I had to actually try and walk "right" into the water so that I could walk up the pier sideways. 
I went really slow into transition and crossed the mat. I sat down and tried to take my wetsuit off. Big mistake! First of all, start taking your wetsuit off the moment you get out of the water because it comes off easier. Second, never ever sit down unless someone is helping you take off the suit. Use gravity, don't fight it.
Anyway, I finally got the suit off, and somehow got into my bike jersey and shoes. I decided for this short race to go sans socks and see if I had any problems. It went OK I guess. I was still a little shaky as I left transition but felt good enough as I crossed the timing mat to make a flying mount of the bike. The race organizer commented that it was a pretty cool mount. I went pretty fast on the bike which is to say that I didn't relax at all. I didn't really hammer it but I honestly don't know if I could have if I wanted. Nobody passed me, that much I know.
I was really surprised at how fast the 6 mile turn around appeared and a little disappointed at how long it took for me to get back. I couldn't get out of my shoes while I was riding so I just unclipped and did another flying dismount as I crossed the timing mat.
T2 went a little better. Again, I went with no socks. I had to take off my right shoe once though to knock a stone out from the GC from the previous day's hike.
I did the run in just under 10 minute miles. I walked through the one aid station and I had a pretty good kick at the end. Legs felt good but sore. We sat around talking with people for a little while and then got in Don's car and headed to:
SNOWBOWL
Don commented that he never really rides hills and wanted to try one. How he picked this one I don't know. I tried to dissuade him since he had his tri-bike and really expensive tires and wheels but he wanted to try. I honestly didn't think we would get very far. I was only afraid that I was going to be the one to cry uncle.
Here's Don on his $5,000 bike, $2,500 wheels, and $25 helmet (which is broken and needs to be replaced)!
A couple action shots taken on the climb.
Turned out that the ride went rather well. Because of the road conditions at the top we went to the signs at the top instead of the lodge 1/2 mile further up. We rested for a moment and then turned around and did a descent. I think I had about 3 minutes on Don with a mile to go. I wanted to time it but the only thing I had was my phone and so I spent the last mile coasting and trying to get the stopwatch ready for when I crossed at the bottom. He ended up pulling back almost 2 minutes on that last mile. Good times. I really scared the heck out of him on the downhill.
