Ok, so my first early season tri has come and gone and I have served notice to all the gelatinous wannabes that they're gonna need to up their game and drop some lbs. I won my age group! I guess the trip to South America is starting to pay off. The second girl (let's just call her "the loser") came over to congratulate me. I grabbed her bloated little hand and shook it hard. When every muscle fiber is as finely tuned as mine are you're bound to squeeze some goobersmoochers hand a bit hard as they try and suck up to you. You see I realize how important it is for the lesser-abled "athletes" to be be seen with me. They get off on it. Now I know some of you are wondering to yourselves, "Trigal, why didn't you win overall??" What gives? Two words: Training race Mongo. I use these small races to mark my prey and let them feel good about getting off the couch only for me to crush their pathetic asses later on in the season.
You see, I would've won but not only was it not part of my plan I also had a bit of a mechanical that slowed me down. I was on the second loop of the 13 mile bike course when some newbie just crashes into me and knocks me flying into a hedge. Luckily she fell also. She claimed that it was wrong for me to pass her on the right. I said "whatev" and accidentally spilled half my Gatorade on her while I stepped over her to get back on the bike. She said I wasn't nice and I told her that she had "better not start to cry because she looked a little dehydrated". Ok, I didn't really say that but I rode away not believing that this twit had the nerve to mouth off to me when it was clear that she knocked me off the bike!! I had time to make up now. I was blowing everyone away on the bike now!! It must've been the adrenaline kicking in but I've never seen speeds like this before, I thought. I finished the bike (with almost a course record for my age group this year). Now for the run. I only needed to maintain my position to keep my first place so I ran in the zone and didn't let anyone pass me.
As I crossed the finish line I saw my ever faithful Supersoulmate B waiting for me with a dry shirt and my jacket. "You won baby!!" I heard him say as I finished strong, showing the crowd that I had plenty left in the tank. I grabbed my shirt and told him "I'm not finished yet" and I went back to do a little cooldown run and cheer on the slow people. Just as I was finishing up my cooldown I saw the bike crasher coming in. She looked pathetic. Arms flailing, Gatorade all over her face and hair, knees all out of sorts and this ridiculous smile on face. Her friends were all there cheering for her like it was the friggin' special olympics. Anyways, I had to get out of there. I didn't waste my time with getting my award....I had a 50 miler to do after lunch.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Trigal's Back ALLRIGHT!
So here's some info for you losers.
As many of you I disappeared from the scene for a bit. Schooling wannabe and elite triathletes needs to be done on the roads, not on a blog...get a life jackasses. Things have been awesome with me. Supersoulmate B and I are closer than ever and life is exactly what I want it to be...well actually sometimes too much. I'll explain.
You see to be a true elite athlete you have to be like a championship racehorse. By that I mean you need to come from good genes. No, fatty, go back to the couch. Seeing what your parents looked like in your scrapbook before they killed themselves just after your birth won't help. They were fat and lazy and guess what? You're bigger than they were. You see, in my absence I was spending sometime in South America getting myself, well, enhanced! You see I found that while everyone telling me how awesome I am that I needed to push through and rise to the top of my game.
I sought out the services of Dr. F located deep in the mountains just outside a small fishing village near Bogota where he's set up an oasis/training/"therapy" facility. Just getting off the plane and taking the modest little taxi up to his compound I could feel my massive heart pounding within my chest. I was excited to see what the doctor could do for me, although he'd probably try and clone me if given the chance I'm sure. Once I arrived I called Supersoulmate B to tell him how much I loved him. He was so busy working on the apartment that he didn't want to stop painting it to run off on another crazy adventure with me.So, long story short, Dr. F was checking out my genetic makeup to see how I measured up when compared to other world class athletes. He mentioned that I might want to consider some "therapy" as I seemed to have acquired some inferior genes from my father. Of course. It would never be my mother, she was too strong and perfect for him anyways (and I take after her obviously). So sometimes you have to disappear to come back stronger, faster...you know? Oh that's right...you don't.
Well Trigal is back on the scene and my competitive edge is sharper and deadlier than ever. Who wants to play? You're gonna need some help to handle all this.Losers, don't expect me to post at the rate that I did in the past with the Olympics coming up...I'll be training and killing.
As many of you I disappeared from the scene for a bit. Schooling wannabe and elite triathletes needs to be done on the roads, not on a blog...get a life jackasses. Things have been awesome with me. Supersoulmate B and I are closer than ever and life is exactly what I want it to be...well actually sometimes too much. I'll explain.
You see to be a true elite athlete you have to be like a championship racehorse. By that I mean you need to come from good genes. No, fatty, go back to the couch. Seeing what your parents looked like in your scrapbook before they killed themselves just after your birth won't help. They were fat and lazy and guess what? You're bigger than they were. You see, in my absence I was spending sometime in South America getting myself, well, enhanced! You see I found that while everyone telling me how awesome I am that I needed to push through and rise to the top of my game.
I sought out the services of Dr. F located deep in the mountains just outside a small fishing village near Bogota where he's set up an oasis/training/"therapy" facility. Just getting off the plane and taking the modest little taxi up to his compound I could feel my massive heart pounding within my chest. I was excited to see what the doctor could do for me, although he'd probably try and clone me if given the chance I'm sure. Once I arrived I called Supersoulmate B to tell him how much I loved him. He was so busy working on the apartment that he didn't want to stop painting it to run off on another crazy adventure with me.So, long story short, Dr. F was checking out my genetic makeup to see how I measured up when compared to other world class athletes. He mentioned that I might want to consider some "therapy" as I seemed to have acquired some inferior genes from my father. Of course. It would never be my mother, she was too strong and perfect for him anyways (and I take after her obviously). So sometimes you have to disappear to come back stronger, faster...you know? Oh that's right...you don't.
Well Trigal is back on the scene and my competitive edge is sharper and deadlier than ever. Who wants to play? You're gonna need some help to handle all this.Losers, don't expect me to post at the rate that I did in the past with the Olympics coming up...I'll be training and killing.
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