My Boyfriend is a Stud

Last weekend, Ed won the Hunter Mountain triathlon. He didn't just win his age group. He won the whole thing. As in, he was the first person to cross the finish line. Out of everyone. I speak both for myself and for Team Edward when I say that he is awesome and we are all very proud of him.

And they're off!

The triathlon was the fourth of five events staged during the weekend. A half- and full Ironman were held on Saturday, and Ed and I watched competitors running the marathon course in the rain as darkness fell. (It looked very unpleasant.) On Sunday morning, Ed's olympic distance triathlon was preceded by a sprint triathlon. We arrived at the transition area a little after 6:00 in the morning. Ed set about arranging his equipment while I sat in the car and shivered. It was light out, but the sun had not yet emerged above the tree-covered hills and it was freezing. I stood on the beach, dancing from foot to foot, and thanking my lucky stars that I had the good sense not to have signed up for an event that would force me to dive into a lake in semi-darkness on a 40-degree morning. Ed, wet-suited, hopped into the water to warm up and emerged a few minutes later to say that the water was warmer than the air and head back to the lake again. Finally, the horn blew and they were off.

Ed between laps

The course was triangular, so the swimmers headed for a buoy, turned around it to head for another buoy, then came back to the shore. The olympic distance required them to do two laps, an arrangement Ed said he really enjoyed because the short run along the beach in between laps really broke up the swim for him. I lost him immediately as all the swimmers plunged into the lake. One guy was far in front of the others almost immediately, and when he emerged to run to the start of his second lap, I saw that it was Mike,  who we'd me the day before and is something of a local legend. He won the half-Ironman last year, then came back the next day to medal in the sprint triathlon. Ed figured this guy would be his biggest competition, and based on his swimming skills, this seemed to be a good prediction. The swim is Ed's weakest event, so I was impressed to see him hop out of the water after the first lap in fifth place. 

As Ed finished the swim, I walked back to the transition area and positioned myself a little way up the road. My job was to count how many people were in front of Ed and yell his position to him when he came by. Mike was the first on the bike, and about three minutes later, another guy came through followed by Ed a short while later. He was still trying to get his feet into his bike shoes as he pedaled by me. I learned later that he'd come out of the water in fifth place but had transitioned faster than two of the other guys who'd been ahead of him.

Making adjustments

In first place!

Now I settled down to wait. Ed had estimated that the bike would take him about an hour. I sat in the car, huddled in a patch of sunlight coming through the windshield, and read until I calculated that Ed should be arriving soon. Sure enough, a few minutes later I saw the lead motorcycle pulling up at the far end of the transition area. A guy on a bike was right behind it, and I crossed my fingers. As he came closer, I was able to see that it was Ed and started scanning the road anxiously for second place. Ed came trotting towards the start of the run course, then abruptly turned on his heel and raced back toward his bike, where he pulled his watch off the handlebars and stuck it onto his wrist before coming back towards the course again. D'oh. But I still hadn't seen any other cyclists come in, and I yelled this to him as he ran by me. "My feet are numb!" he called back. I assured him they'd warm up, and then he disappeared. He told me later that the course was much harder than he'd anticipated. Not only was it very hilly, it involved a lot of trail running over rutted, rocky ground. Despite the extra exertion this required, he said his feet didn't regain feeling until near the end of the run (which was probably good, as he discovered at the end of the race that a pebble in his shoe had rubbed through his skin to draw blood). 

Now there was more time to wait. I went back to the car for a bit, anxiously watching the clock. Ed's been focusing a lot on his running lately, and it was hard to believe that anyone would be able to catch him with a lead like the one he had. But I didn't want to make any assumptions. When I figured he should be just about near the end of his run, I left the warmth of the car and went to the finish line. The race course finished on an uphill - how sadistic is that? - and the final chute was still cloaked in shadows, but it was clear that the champion the announcer was crowing about was Ed. He crossed the finish line, fists pumping, and gave me a very sweaty hug, which I didn't mind at all because I was wearing his fleece over my clothes. Mike came in second place several minutes later. Ed said that he'd given Ed high fives every time they passed each other on the run course.

When you win a triathlon, you can't just go home at the end. You have to hang around until the awards ceremony to collect your swag. We chatted with other competitors and snacked while we waited.  Ed ended up taking home a plaque, a hydration belt (in camouflage, in case he wants to train undetected), compression socks he says he will never wear because they are based on shoddy science, and special, springy shoelaces that never need to be re-tied. 

Champ!

As the winner of the triathlon, Ed was, of course, the most impressive celebrity in the area. But we did spot another, second-class celebrity over the weekend. Matt Damon's brother, Kyle, is an Ironman competitor, and when Ed and I were eating dinner on Saturday night we were treated to a ten-minute long window in which Matt and his wife and kids waited on the sidewalk right outside the restaurant to cheer on his brother. Matt snapped pictures and then hugged Kyle as he ran by, and we later learned that he ended up winning the whole thing. It is always surreal to see someone so famous only 20 or 30 feet away, but some of the inevitable barriers between us seemed to have been knocked down by the fact that we were both there to support an athlete. Yeah, Matt and I are practically best friends.

Matt Damon congratulates Kyle at the end of his race (in a photo I copied from a website and did not take myself).