The drive was foggy and empty down the 17. Clearly the best time to drive to Santa Cruz is 5am on a Sunday. My torpidity was slightly alleviated by the awesome Philz Tesora coffee Chris made for us. I did mention this guy is cool? Or maybe he didn't want me to fall asleep during the ride down.
My buddy Chris's girlfriend was out of town. This is normally a call to shenanigans but this weekend he was doing a triathlon in Santa Cruz and had nobody to go with him. So me being an awesome (and slightly masochistic) friend I went with him to support him.
After we arrived in Santa Cruz, we parked up the hill a bit of distance from the beach. On the way down Chris suggests I train to do a triathlon as well. My Reply: "Helll No! You guys are crazy!" With that we parted ways: I walked while he biked down to the race.
I hung out a bit on the beach to give him moral support (and ogle the triathlon girls; they remind me of greyhounds). And of course take pictures of him in a wetsuit to post to his facebook wall (the important things in life). He was so nervous he took two practice swims.
Bang! His heat is off! I wave and cheer furiously from the beach during his swim, eagerly watching his progress (actually i'm chatting with the other athletes). He comes in after his laps and I videotape his return to land, like a bad Baywatch intro, as he deliriously begins the bike leg.
Now I have two choices: Hang out with the other spectators in the middle of the street cheering the other athletes like goobers or do my own thing. I decide to go swimming at the Boardwalk. The water is freezing and probably shortened my life by a few weeks. I miss his triumphant finish but it’s okay, he took selfies to commemorate his victory.
On the walk back, him with his bicycle and me carrying his bag, he decides to challenge me. He takes all the stuff, puts it on his bike, begins riding and says, "You should probably run back to the car."
Miffed, but ever playful, I start jogging up the hill. Huffing and puffing, tired but not expired, I meet my friend back at the car. "That was about a mile uphill," he says,"You don't have to do a tri but you should definitely do a race." Thus I was convinced, possibly hoodwinked, into doing my first 5k.