Now we are simply on holiday. The big race is over. The
photos are all downloaded and resized ready for sending by email or for posting
on Facebook. High on the list of ‘Must Do’ chores post event, is to get the
race day kit and clothing washed, dried and put away. Since my dear husband
could hardly walk and Anthony had to go to the hospital for stitches in his leg
in the early hours of his fifty first birthday, the collection of Stephens race
kit that was unfortunately delayed until 9am on post race day. This caused the
nasty sweaty bike clothes and the wetsuit that had been placed in plastic bags,
that were then left for the remainder of race day and through the horrendous
thunderstorms overnight and the next morning, to be nicely stewed at a low heat
and were recovered, festering well.
When we got the bags back to our hotel I threw all the kit in
our poor unsuspecting bath and left them to soak for a while. The bathroom took
on an unpleasant odour none the less. I washed everything several times before
hanging it all up over the bath or out on our balcony. I then, smiled sweetly
at the housekeeping staff, crossed palms with a little money and asked if I
could have a change of towels and no cleaning, since I did not want to be thrown
out of the hotel because of the mess that had been made, turning our apartment
into a laundry for clobber that smelled as though a group of feral cats had
enjoyed a stay. It smells sweeter now again so I will let the ladies in to
clean after a three day break.
Stephen did not register to do the same race next year. I
had in a more calm tone of voice the next day said that, if he did enter again
that I would not even come with him for the attached holiday, and that I was
happy enough for him to go with a group of other guys but I definitely would
not ever again be back up crew and that if he did go and I stayed at home, that
I would not even track him to see where he was.
My reason for being so unkind is that I find the whole thing
more and more stressful, I had had to lay down for an hour race day, because I
felt so awful after he had gone by on the bike for the second lap. I had pains
in my back that was, I thought the start of an asthma attack and after taking
the inhalers and a rest I recovered enough for the rest of the day. He has
competed in thirty one Ironman races and suffered quite badly in the last
three. I have competed in eighteen races of that distance and stopped when the
last few had made me feel ill. I think some tiny inkling of sense is called
for.
Yesterday Steve took five hot baths and rested some in
between. I fell asleep after lunch and that is unheard of for me in daylight
hours; not a nap, but sleep of the dead.
By evening we all felt a bit better but the three of us were
walking badly when we went out for a birthday dinner up in the mountains to
celebrate Anthony’s birthday, he had not planned to spent his day with stitches
and bandages and plasters over his legs. Steve took him to the airport this
morning for his flight home.
We have a few more days in this pretty Austrian village. At
the end of the week, we will be driving to Germany
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