The start of the triathlon race. Please read Part Uno before you read Part Dos.
Thus, the story continues.
We walk back to the start of the race (the swim) in hopes of catching Husband’s start. I'm still freaking out! I can't get the busted zipper out of my head.
Husband hops into the lake, and his part of the race starts. He's in the back of the 35-40 year old pack. He does great! Five minutes later the next group starts, and so on. Husband swims strong for 3 whole minutes and then totally freaks out. He can't get a good rhythm and is struggling like a dying fish. He looks to his right, and behold- a man standing. Is it Jesus walking on water? No! It's just another struggling swimmer who has found a shallow spot near the edge of the lake. Husband stops and joins him. Husband takes a break for about a minute or so. He, too, has lost his Mo-Jo! He starts swimming again, and the next age group is starting to pass him.
Meanwhile, I'm at the start (at the edge of the lake), hoping to see Husband. Minutes pass and still no sign of Husband. Now, I'm really scared. I'm scared for Husband-- scared about the zipper. Fifteen minutes pass, and still no sign of Husband. A few people are coming out of the water because they have lost their timing chips and bands during the swim. They have to get new chips. But I am consumed with fear for my poor, helpless husband who has obviously drowned and is now at the bottom of the lake. Only a few yellow caps (Husband’s age group) remain in the water. WHERE IS MY HUSBAND? I'm shaking with fear! Finally, I see him coming out of the water. All is right with the world again, except for the damn zipper...
Part Tres will be posted tomorrow.
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