Transition to the Bike

Once out of the water, there was this "wetsuit stripping" station, which was where a group of volunteers would quickly, and sometimes violently, "strip" you of your wetsuit. A mass of arms, legs, skin...frantically stripping off the top level of their suit, only to plant down on the ground to let the other people strip the rest off your body. I'd never witnessed this type of behavior at John's other triathlons, so I was fascinated and even a bit shocked by this event. I thought for sure that each time people yanked down a suit, I was going to see body parts that I shouldn't be seeing. Erica and I had to hold our spots near the fence, as this was where John had instructed me to be in order to get his wet gear...after again changing "the plan" from leaving the gear to be transported to me taking it with us. Of course, we had no idea whether or not Brad was aware of this change in plan (he was not), so we needed to be prepared to get both sets of wet gear. Before long, we were surrounded by bodies jostling for a position to see their loved one as well. It was hard to stand there for an hour holding position. John found us, handed his gear over the fence, then headed for the exit. Though we tried, Brad did not know we were there, and remained hidden behind a tent in the transition area during his time there. Erica did not get a chance to talk with him or take his gear, and I know that must have been hard. Once we saw Brad leave the area, we slipped out between the other people still waiting, and began the slow walk back to our car.