The weather all morning was ominous, with clouds big and dark enough that it you saw them in a movie you'd balk at their obvious symbolism and heavy-handedness. It seemed unlikely that we'd get through the race without some precipitation, (even though it's sparkling Downtown as I write this) and we indeed did not. The cloud omen proved true in another way, as upon opening co-racer Nick's trunk we discovered that his bike tire had developed an incurable (for us) flat, marking the third time in six triathlons his bike has experienced a pre-race deflation. Anyway, my small band and I hopped in the lake (which was warmer than the air) later than anticipated thanks to an unusually pokey female Sprinter...
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