Race Report: 35th Annual NYC Duathlon

I managed to make it to the start line of my first duathlon clenching my chest from a viral infection, anointed in nervous energy and daydreams of the nearest bathroom.

In many ways, I think the universe likes to piss on my imaginary cornflakes with some form of mishap to my body.  This time it came in the form of a respiratory infection.  Ah, nothing like the good luck charm masquerading in the form of a dry cough with an annoying wheeze from your chest.  If this wasn't my first duathlon, perhaps I would've considered staying home -- but race costs make my lint wear sponge rollers like a black eighties mom gripping a belt because you didn't come home by curfew.  I suppressed my bitching and toed the start line glancing at my Garmin app and hoping that all of my hardware wouldn't fail me for the fiftieth time this year.  Most first time experiences are special and despite the circumstances, I longed for this feeling for a few years.

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