At the Danskin Yesterday
Yesterday in the pre-sunrise darkness of the transition area of the Danskin Triathlon at Decker Lake in Austin, Texas, I was approached by a beautiful blond woman. Her question? Where is the 'bike out'? (meaning where do we leave the transition area to start the biking portion of the triathlon). I pointed to an area to my right and asked one of my teammates for verification. The blond followed up her initial question with a couple others that we answered. Her focus, however, stayed on me. I told her where she could find rack space (meaning a place to store her bike, etc in the transition area). She thanked my teammate and me and moved on.
At the time, my answers to her questions seemed appropriate enough. Even though she appeared to be extremely fit and had kick-ass equipment, it may have been her first time at the Danskin event. And even though the first vestiges of daylight were appearing, it was still too dark to make out too many details about the transition area. It wasn't until much later that I realized just how close I came to an 'I Carried a Watermelon' moment. You see, the beautiful blond woman with the Australian accent was none other than the event's star athlete and guest competitor, Michellie Jones, Olympic Silver Medalist at the inaugural Olympic triathlon in 2000 and a former Ironman World Champion. According to various websites, at the apex of her career, she was considered the best and most versatile triathlete in the world, male or female. Thank GOD I didn't say anything stupid. Though telling her where there was rack space was probably borderline. But hell.... It's not like I knew who she was.
Fast forward to the end of the race, I sprinted across the finish line thoroughly displeased with my race and bumped into yet another beautiful blond who wanted to give me my finisher's medal. I told her I needed two (one for my teammate who did the biking and swimming). She asked if I didn't need three. No, there were just two of us. Good job, she said, as she handed me my additional medal.
By this point, I was thinking that this year's race was crawling with these tall, hot blonds. The one who handed me the medals had on a race number (920). I figured she was a participant who had been part of the organizing committee and gotten roped into handing out medals after she finished. In my sleep and oxygen deprived state I was total incapable of putting two and two together.
Fast forward again to my teammate's house a few hours after the race. After checking our times and realizing that we won our division for the second year in a row, we decided to check and see how the guest Olympian had done (still not realizing that we'd met her). Oh, she won and turned in the best times for each of the three events. Her name? Michellie Jones. Her race number? 920.
After a quick Wikipedia search revealed that she was from Australia, I put it all together. There was only one beautiful blond at the Danskin. The woman we spoke to in the morning was the woman who handed me my medal and the overall winner and an Olympic medalist. That's almost right up there with the time I peed next to Steffi Graf at a tennis tournament and the time I ran on my high school track with Tony Gwynn, baseball God. I can now add another touch with greatness to my list. I've met Michellie Jones, world class triathlete. Sure I didn't know who she was at the time, but I'm not going to let that diminish my excitement.
Incidentally, Ashley Judd may have something to worry about. If I'm going to have a celebrity crush that I call 'My Future Wife' (Remember I'm not a crazy stalker. The most I do is follow them on Twitter), should she be an actress and part-time activist or world class triathlete? I have to tell you, I'm leaning toward a certain tall, blond triathlete. And really, it's slightly more realistic given that we've actually met. Of course, I was just a nice person who answered questions in the wee hours of the morning and one of 800 woman she gave a medal to, but still...
Usually in the presence of beautiful women I stumble and fumble. In other words, I have 'I Carried a Watermelon' moments (a 'Dirty Dancing' reference. Baby's first words to Johnny? 'I carried a watermelon'). Somehow yesterday morning, in the presence of a tall, fit, blond, Australian, I managed to hold it together. Then a little while later, in the presence of a tall, fit blond, I managed to hold it together. I didn't once stutter or say something stupid. Go me. Maybe I'm finally coming into my own. Maybe all my experience with beautiful women is paying off. You don't scare me, Hot Blond. I'm Stacee Ann Harris, dammit.
In any case, growth and change happened at the Danskin yesterday. Not only did I find renewed confidence around beautiful women, but I am now even more determined to learn to swim and compete in a triathlon solo. I also discovered that I need to run short to run short. I was ill-prepared to run a 5k and it showed in glaring fashion in my race strategy. Ah well, live and learn. And really in years to come, I'll forget how horribly I ran. After all, the 2012 Danskin Series Triathlon in Austin is where I met an Olympic medalist and an Ironman World Champion. And my future wife. I'm joking about that last part. Probably.
At the time, my answers to her questions seemed appropriate enough. Even though she appeared to be extremely fit and had kick-ass equipment, it may have been her first time at the Danskin event. And even though the first vestiges of daylight were appearing, it was still too dark to make out too many details about the transition area. It wasn't until much later that I realized just how close I came to an 'I Carried a Watermelon' moment. You see, the beautiful blond woman with the Australian accent was none other than the event's star athlete and guest competitor, Michellie Jones, Olympic Silver Medalist at the inaugural Olympic triathlon in 2000 and a former Ironman World Champion. According to various websites, at the apex of her career, she was considered the best and most versatile triathlete in the world, male or female. Thank GOD I didn't say anything stupid. Though telling her where there was rack space was probably borderline. But hell.... It's not like I knew who she was.
Fast forward to the end of the race, I sprinted across the finish line thoroughly displeased with my race and bumped into yet another beautiful blond who wanted to give me my finisher's medal. I told her I needed two (one for my teammate who did the biking and swimming). She asked if I didn't need three. No, there were just two of us. Good job, she said, as she handed me my additional medal.
By this point, I was thinking that this year's race was crawling with these tall, hot blonds. The one who handed me the medals had on a race number (920). I figured she was a participant who had been part of the organizing committee and gotten roped into handing out medals after she finished. In my sleep and oxygen deprived state I was total incapable of putting two and two together.
Fast forward again to my teammate's house a few hours after the race. After checking our times and realizing that we won our division for the second year in a row, we decided to check and see how the guest Olympian had done (still not realizing that we'd met her). Oh, she won and turned in the best times for each of the three events. Her name? Michellie Jones. Her race number? 920.
After a quick Wikipedia search revealed that she was from Australia, I put it all together. There was only one beautiful blond at the Danskin. The woman we spoke to in the morning was the woman who handed me my medal and the overall winner and an Olympic medalist. That's almost right up there with the time I peed next to Steffi Graf at a tennis tournament and the time I ran on my high school track with Tony Gwynn, baseball God. I can now add another touch with greatness to my list. I've met Michellie Jones, world class triathlete. Sure I didn't know who she was at the time, but I'm not going to let that diminish my excitement.
Incidentally, Ashley Judd may have something to worry about. If I'm going to have a celebrity crush that I call 'My Future Wife' (Remember I'm not a crazy stalker. The most I do is follow them on Twitter), should she be an actress and part-time activist or world class triathlete? I have to tell you, I'm leaning toward a certain tall, blond triathlete. And really, it's slightly more realistic given that we've actually met. Of course, I was just a nice person who answered questions in the wee hours of the morning and one of 800 woman she gave a medal to, but still...
Usually in the presence of beautiful women I stumble and fumble. In other words, I have 'I Carried a Watermelon' moments (a 'Dirty Dancing' reference. Baby's first words to Johnny? 'I carried a watermelon'). Somehow yesterday morning, in the presence of a tall, fit, blond, Australian, I managed to hold it together. Then a little while later, in the presence of a tall, fit blond, I managed to hold it together. I didn't once stutter or say something stupid. Go me. Maybe I'm finally coming into my own. Maybe all my experience with beautiful women is paying off. You don't scare me, Hot Blond. I'm Stacee Ann Harris, dammit.
In any case, growth and change happened at the Danskin yesterday. Not only did I find renewed confidence around beautiful women, but I am now even more determined to learn to swim and compete in a triathlon solo. I also discovered that I need to run short to run short. I was ill-prepared to run a 5k and it showed in glaring fashion in my race strategy. Ah well, live and learn. And really in years to come, I'll forget how horribly I ran. After all, the 2012 Danskin Series Triathlon in Austin is where I met an Olympic medalist and an Ironman World Champion. And my future wife. I'm joking about that last part. Probably.
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