I know, I promised a race report for all you wonderful people who keep telling me I can do triathlons…and I will write one…tomorrow.
Today is Monday and that means it’s time to make you laugh per the
insistently persistent demands encouragment of my good buddy jennyonthespot. Since I had a moment at my triathlon on Saturday that was just begging to be shared here the race report has been preempted.
So I’m at the race setting up my transition spot and chatting with the women around me. Erin, Paula and Mary are all first time races and their eyes get big when I confide I’m an expert…ok, so not really. But they do seem pretty happy that I’ve done at least one and they pepper me with questions.
I’m lubing up my bike chain which really impresses them, so I offer to do theirs too. We’re waiting for the lube to set before we head out for a quick warm up around the parking lot to get our gearing set for starting the race up a steep driveway.
Paula asks Erin if she’s going to pump after we bike around the lot and Erin says yes. But she hates doing it and isn’t looking forward to it and wants to put it off as long as possible.
Being the resident tri-expert, I helpfully point out the bike assistant guy over there who has a great bike pump and can certainly pump her tires up no problem.
Erin and Paula look at each other, look at me and burst out in giggles. “What?” I ask. “Breast pump,” says Erin. Oh.
“Yeah, he can *totally* help her with that,” says Paula.