T1: Upon exiting the water, I ran to the carpeted ramp towards the bikes to have my wetsuit stripped.  And was dragged along the carpet at least five feet by two teenagers who couldn't get the suit off my feet! I don't have particularly large feet either.  The spectators roared with laughter and I did too. Hilarity amid total intensity. Perhaps this is the final sign though that I need to trim my wetsuit at the calves to make it easier to remove.

It's one thing to write about the Ironman Blues for triathlon websites. It's another to experience them in gruesome detail. Such were the past few days following what I had perhaps erroneously concluded was a disappointing Ironman 70.3 Boise.

When I define "disappointing," I mean failing to realize either an objective, an understanding or an achievement where all signs pointed to being able to do so.  In the case of Ironman 70.3 Boise, the latter part of my definition is key, as you'll see.  As a result of grasping that distinction, I'm no longer as bummed about Boise.