We’ve decided to throw ourselves into demanding physical activities to dull our sadness about leaving Trinidad. We flew to the other rock, Tobago, this weekend, to compete in a triathlon: 1500 m swim, 40 k bike, 10 k run.
Friday night, it started to pour rain. Saturday morning was more of the same. They postponed the race because the rain had flooded the bike course; then they changed the bike course to another, hillier route. We set out our equipment and got drenched. We listened to the briefing and got drenched. We had to dry off to get numbers written on our arms and legs (Aaron was 31 and I was 32, which forced me to say, “Not for a few more weeks!” all day). As we gathered at the starting line, ready to jump in the water, the rain stopped. The race director asked if we preferred the old course, we all shouted YES, and he said he’d change it while we swam. With a quick warning to avoid the branches and dead dogs pushed into the water by the overflowing river, the race started.
We both finished strongly. Aaron got 2:42, knocking off 20 minutes from his training time from the previous week, and I got 2:53, knocking off 25 min. from my previous best time. And neither of us encountered any dead dogs (although I did pass a back hoe at one point, to the surprise of the driver, and, had to swerve to avoid a herd of goats at another).