On the bike, the sun at least was warm. Pretty soon I realized I had unconsciously started drafting off the guy in front of me, a bad habbit that comes from group riding with non triathletes. I decided I had the energy to pass, kicked around him, and tried to hold a slightly higher pace so as not to be in his way. This settled into the familiar pattern of passing slower riders while being passed by the hotshots. I try to make "on your left" sound friendly, or at least not discouraging, but one strong looking woman seemed annoyed as I go by. She passed me a mile later but didn't hold a pace. I had to ease up to stay out of her slipstream, which was frustrating because I was trying to put in a hard effort. I gave a good kick to pass her and tried hold a pace faster than hers to avoid getting passed and having to slow down again, but she came right around me and forced me to slow again. How was she riding faster behind me than in front? After a few more tries, I gave up and rode easily just out of drafting range, telling myself I could use the extra energy on the run.
It felt great finally to be on my feet, taking my own pace and droping my bike nemesis for good. Ducks and sea birds made the lakes shimmer in the morning sun. With just two miles to go, it was safe to slip into a higher running gear and have the fun triathlon is supposed to be.