Here we go...

I'm a little tired, a little buzzed off adrenaline. The day of the triathlon is here.
Save for a short half-hour ride on my bike, I've done very little the past few days in hopes of resting my body. I hope it doesn't come back to bite me in the ass.

The wetsuit I bought from some Orinda-based college student cost $60. I bought it from him on Friday after he decided to drop by Buffalo Exchange, saving Sofie and me a drive. The bike I inherited from my uncle on Wednesday...I've pumped the tires, but my adjustments to the brakes have proven mostly inadequate. Basically, whenever I squeeze on them, the actual pads just kind of stick to the wheel. Not good.
My basic goal is to ride without braking. Yeah, smart I know. I'm hoping I can find somebody to bail me out.

I hear Sofie getting ready in the background, and the immediacy of the moment kind of hits. A lot of things could go wrong. I could drown. I could fall off the bike and cause a pile-up crash. But I have to shut that all out. Michael Phelps! Think Michael Phelps. (400m in 3:43? C'mon...)