But with every minute into the bike, the rain seemed to came down harder. Occasionally it would ease up for a few minutes - but then the pelting needles would return once again.
I couldn't help but think about Lake Placid this year - and watching all the racers brave downpours for 10, 12, 16, 17 hours.
I will say rain on the bike keeps you moving. Pretty scenery is much less distracting. The hills seem less intimidating. You just want to be done.
Heading out on the first loop, I noticed many racers dealing with flat tires.
Close to an hour in the race, I checked my watch - I was averaging over 18 miles per hour and felt pretty darn good. The worst hills of the first loop were over. I could push it a little harder on some of the flatter upcoming sections.
And a few moments later, I noticed a kaplunk (remember that game?) feeling and sound. I tried to convince myself it was the little tar strips on the shoulder of the road, but as I watched more closely, I knew something else was up.
It couldn't be...
I pulled over, got off the bike and tentatively touched my front tire. Solid. Then the back tire. My finger easily squished into TRIgirl BL's beautiful Zipp tire.
I had a flat.
No spare.
And no idea how to change a tubular even if I'd been carrying one.
I just stared at the tire for a few minutes, thinking to myself..."You are so screwed."
"Think," I said to myself. Then I remembered seeing a guy early on in the race holding up his wheel, signaling the SAG vehicle to help him.
"Yes! There is a SAG wagon somewhere out there."
I looked around and noticed a couple pulled over on the other side of the rode. I walked over and saw a Corvette parked nearby. Could that be the SAG?
Turned out the Corvette guy was a volunteer - but not SAG (of course, a two seater sports car would not make the best SAG). He was checking to see if the couple needed help. Fortunately, they were doing well with changing the tube - so Corvette guy said he would head out to find the SAG vehicle for me.
While a two seater sports car may not make a great SAG vehicle - it should be able to find one quickly, right?
The couple finished changing their flat and were off to finish their race. I crossed over to where I originally got the flat and waited.
And waited. And waited some more. I watched many, many people pass me. Every once in awhile someone would call out "Are you OK?" Part of me was tempted to ask for help - but I knew that was against the rules - and I wouldn't want to ruin another person's race. "I am fine, thanks," I called back.
15, 20, 25 minutes went by. And yep, it was still raining. I noticed my legs shivering. When my teeth began chattering after 35 minutes, I figured I better start walking. While there were about 9 miles left on the bike course's first loop, I was probably within 3-4 miles of transition. I hobbled along in my bike shoes for awhile, worrying about my family who were probably wondering where I was - the cheering point we discussed was another few miles away. Finally, a truck pulled over in front of me. SAG had finally arrived.
He didn't have a tubular tire either, but did have a few extra wheels. With my bike having a 9 speed cartridge on the back, my options were limited to one wheel. The tire was thick - and was from an old, beat-up looking bike. It even had reflectors, like a kid's bike wheels. But it fit - and the SAG dude switched it out quickly.
After losing a total of close to 46 minutes, I was able to resume riding. Not much earlier, I had been preparing to walk into transition and turn in my chip. I didn't have to DNF anymore, but didn't really love the thought of continuing the race, so far behind where I could have been.
Then I thought about the months of training I'd put in.
And I thought about my family just a few miles away who would be the best cheerleaders no matter how well or poorly my race was going.
If another flat was in my future, I'd have no choice but to quit, but I decided I had to try and finish the race.
Surprisingly the new wheel didn't seem too bad. The SAG dude had done a good job putting it on as my gears were shifting smoothly. A few miles later, I saw my family - my brother flashing his TRIgirl Support Crew shirt - and their big cheers made me feel so much better.
The rest of the bike went by more quickly than I thought it would. The spare held out - and though my mph went down a little, I was passing a bunch of people. My family positioned themselves on the crest of one of the toughest hills (in both directions of an out and back of the second loop). I was very, very grateful to have them out there. Overall bike split was 3:56:15. If someone could just put an asterisk next to it's posting with a big "Due to stupid not being able to fix her own flat tire," I'd feel a little better. My actual riding time was around 3:10.

It was still raining pretty heavily heading into T2. I took off my arm warmers and quickly put on my sneakers, fuel belt and race number. I also removed my watch - it been beeping annoyingly practically since the flat (something about not having memory to store the mile laps). Exiting transition, I saw my family again, including a sign they made with my name - and a picture of TRIgirl wine that would be waiting for me at the end of the race.

I hadn't seen the run course yet - and knew tar hill, murder hill and the pits were waiting for me.
The first part of each loop was around Fort Pond - the swim course from way earlier in the day. It was mostly flat for the first 2.5 miles. Then came the shoot off - right into a long steep climb. Followed by a short downhill - and then an even longer climb. And then a bunch of rollers into the pits. Coming out of the pits - I saw the camera man - and I wondered why they would put the camera man somewhere you could so easily look miserable. I tried to put on the happiest face I could muster while climbing the hill - and gradually worked my way back to Fort Pond for loop two.

My Dad was waiting at the first section of the second loop around Fort Pond - he cheered me on and said everyone would meet me at the finish. Seeing him before the second hill adventure began gave me a boost. Overall I plugged along, albiet at a very slow jog pace, more than I expected on the hills. Though I have to confess that I occasionally would conveniently schedule a nutrition break on the worst parts of the climbs.
I felt pretty good on the run - and a couple of volunteers commented on how strong I looked.
And I had to chuckle to myself - yeah - that is a benefit of a 46 minute break.
The second loop seemed to go by quickly. The rain turned to drizzle - with the sun coming out for the last few miles. The finish was in sight. The volunteers, like at full IM races, put up the race finish tape for each person who crossed.
There was my family - cheering and holding up the wine sign. (I swear that sign got me through some tough moments.)
My family rocks. They moved from one race point to the next through some lousy weather and for longer than expected. Total super sherpas! (And more than the sign, my family is what truly got me to the finish line.)


I found out later that my run time was 2:25 on the dot. My best run time for a half IM - and on the most challenging course I'd ever attempted. Official race time was 7:10:23. Deducting the flat tire time - I think I would have been within seconds of my White Lake time. Kind of funny.
But, the 7:10 time is the one I have to own-up to - part of triathlon is dealing with the conditions - and knowing how to take care of your equipment.

And for this race, I realized, once again, how lucky I am to have such a supportive family.
And to be thankful for an old fashioned wheel sporting a reflector.