I can't believe I'm being ordered to write a race report, especially by "Mood looks like a lady"; surely I should be garlanded with laurel wreaths and fed luscious fruits. No? Ok, here goes....
A special mention to all those who signed up and magically disappeared on the day with 'injuries' and committments. ("P1ss poor" some grumpy buggr was heard to comment; not sure who it was, possibly Judy as she was even complaining about people singing happy birthday in the restaurant later). Anyway, you missed a good day for time trialling; a bit chilly but not too windy (though why is it the wind ALWAYS seemed to be in your face, Moody style, both out and back?!). After the usual Piranha professional warm up, consisting of "I Ilke your bike" and "nice wheels" etc. and a 5min spin up the road and back, we all prepared to set off.
Well, I say we ALL prepared but that's not strictly true. You can usually rely on Pat "the gear" Grealy to have all the latest, technologically advanced equipment. Not this time as he'd managed to leave his skewer at home. Told you not to have a kebab the night before Pat (not a euphemism).
Clare was doing a great job at getting people started a minute apart. Apart from those who ignored her and went off at their leisure, which was everybody. No matter, Claire with one i (not a euphemism), aka bacon (also not a euphemism), and Judy were at the start line with both hands free for counting. Off I went with an internal promise to take it fairly handy to start and try and build to a strong finish. Yeh, right, heart rate over 170 on the first hill and the body screaming because it was the first time outside zones 1-3 all winter. Tough course up ahead. Saw Ian, who started a minute ahead of me, for about exactly another minute until he disappeared. He said he took a wrong turn-off just before home but I'm sure he headed off to Bray or somewhere after 5km (thanks Ian, I couldn't have done it without you and your infallible GPS).
Tough course; the usual stuff: cycle, cycle; pant, pant; try not to puke, blah blah blah... Not sure where this 20km distance came from as I clocked the turn around at 12.5km. That makes 25km in total according to my calculations, though rasher will have to check this out on her abacus. The last hill is endless, made worse by the 2 Bray wheelers out for a Saturday spin and whom (did I just type 'whom'?) I couldn't pass.
One good thing about TT is the fact that you've always got the person in front's ass to chase (not a euphemism). At the finish line it was Jen's, who was busy winning the women's race, so I sprinted after her, almost giving myself a conniption (no idea what that is, so could be a euphemism; always wanted to say it though). Very hard going and I'm not sure I'll be ever at 182bpm at any stage in the Ironman, except when I'm having a cardiac event at the end, of course. Don't think I'll be averaging 38kph either (unless we're rolling down some big hills - not intended as a euphemism).
Did manage a bit of warm down on the bike, but even that little spin was tiring, never mind the 45min run through the woods. Nice place for a brick session, where one could smell all the pretty spring flowers (not a euphemism). Back to the car park where I was casually informed I'd won by a second. Reader, I almost choked on my banana (not a euphemism). Of course that allowed me to go into a tirade about how I didn't know what the youth of today were doing with their training and that I didn't fight the war for them to be so slack. (Misplaced reference about the war though, since you lot chickened out of it. Big style.)
All glory is, however, fleeting; as the Buddha himself said, everything must pass except passing. I found this out quickly when I was bluntly told my bike had won and that I had cheated. All I can say is the results stand, with Matt Coughlan a massive one second behind. That's probably about 20 bike lengths or so; not even close. I might even put the Zipps on next time. Good times all round. Not as good as the Karaoke, however, which I'm sure you'll hear about ad inf. But it was back to the bad times the next morning: what a day to decide to make our longest spin yet also our fastest (around 4hrs for 120km). Nutrigrain does not go well with a hangover. Thank God I missed the nipple twisting (not a euphemism).
One last thing: Birdy managed to turn up to race, albeit in his flip-flops, even though he had to rush to Cork afterwards "to go surfing" (definitely a euphemism).
Thanks to Brian for organizing and prizes; Judge, Judy and Executioner for timing (though you'll be racing next time surely); and everyone else for competing in the inaugeral Piranha Time Trial, after which I'm retiring undefeated...
Greg
PiranhaTri
http://www.piranhatri.com/article.php/20080414190534697