Last Thursday night (not to be confused with last Friday night) a group of intrepid triathletes left the comfort and safety of the Nest to test their night vision in the cold and alien world of Post Daylight Savings Point Grey. This is a convenient time for a friendly reminder to bring your headlamps to run practice from now on! It's a cruel world full of ankle-rolling hazards out there, my friends. Be ever vigilant.
The state propagandists in charge of the elementary school curriculum in China told me that the Long March was long, but I don't think they've run five-and-a-half laps of the Acadia Loop. A 5k is lung-burning, glycogen-depleting, lactate-building long. In a brazen attempt to verify special relativity by moving really fast, we only managed to stumble upon physiological relativity -- that is, a sensation of time dilation proportional to the intensity of discomfort experienced.
No problem, though, for these are triathletes accustomed to sufferfests. They inched up to the start line with some reluctance, burdened by the anticipated pain, spurred on by the possibility of glory.
At stake: the coveted Vincent Lavalleé Cup.
The heat of the race fires the crucible from which PBs are forged, and this race was hot. The personal dramas are revealed in the results themselves, so take a look and see if you can decipher the strategies and triumphs.
A group of us stayed around for some much-needed refuelling in preparation for the next events of the Race Series. Next up, the Brick and the Denim Mile! If you were aching for an opportunity to gain some style points, this will be your chance.
Post-race pit stop. Note the Bluman salute.