So, I do triathlons. This is my second year. I'm slow, but I'm mighty. However, the picture in this post is NOT of me. I do not look good or happy while doing a race, no matter how excited I actually might be on the inside.

But this weekend's race presented way more challenges than swimming 1K, biking 40K and running 10K.

Yes, kiddies, despite the fact that the Nation's Triathlon was in the city where I've lived for 10 years, I got lost on the way there -- got lost to the point that I had to go into Virginia and back again to get on the right track. I got literally the LAST parking space in the athletes' lot by staring someone down.

I know, my Pontiac Vibe is just that threatening.

Then I got to carry my stuff like a mile and a half around the Tidal Basin. Good God, where is a sherpa when you need one?! I was so late that I heard them doing the National Anthem when I was still quite a bit off, getting sweaty from the intense humidity that had already started at 7 a.m.

I knew there was a very, very good chance they wouldn't let me into the race since I was so late.

When I arrived, the main athlete entrance was closed. I knew it had closed at 6:45 a.m., so I knew I'd have to beg. Officials assured me there was another entrance that was still letting people in ... but I couldn't find it.

So I literally hopped the fence to get into the race area. (Threw my huge pile of gear/crap over first.) Fortunately, bike racking had been the day before. Set up my area as fast as I could -- helped that for some weird reason, I had an ENTIRE RACK to myself so I completely spread out.

Luckily, I was in a later swim wave -- we didn't go out until around 7:50. Got in the water, silver caps not pink this time, FINALLY (women 25-29 ALWAYS seem to get stuck with white or pink, ugh).

So I was legally in the race, despite having to basically SNEAK in in the first place. But the weirdness was not over.

The bike stickers were not sticky enough and there were stickers on the ground EVERYWHERE. Before I'd seen one, all I knew was that I ran over something big and white with my bike and had to stop because the intense hissing noise made me think I had a flat.

Me: [Censored]

I'd never had a flat on a race before. So I ripped open my repair kit, got out ALL my equipment, flipped the bike upside down ... and the front tire was still firm. And the back tire was, too. WTF? Then I realized someone's bike sticker was lodged between my brake and my tire, which was what was making the hissing noise! I was so sure is was a flat that I'd gotten all my gear out ASAP to do it quick. Oh well, at least it wasn't a flat. I repacked my gear and got going.

Around the Maryland state line, we came on a huge dead German Shepherd dog that clearly had been there for QUITE awhile. I was bothered by that because that was someone's pet ... but I was also annoyed that race officials had put so little effort into sweeping the course, for, oh, I don't know, 80-pound dead dogs lying in the road for the past week?

About five minutes after that, I RAN OVER A SQUIRREL WITH MY BIKE.

I repeat: I RAN OVER A SQUIRREL WITH MY BIKE.

The day just kept getting weirder and weirder. The little scamp ran out in between my wheels -- there was no was to avoid him on such short notice. Bump-ba-bump.

Me: NO! [beeep]! OH GOD!

But I looked over my shoulder and he was running away without a limp so I guess I just got his tail.

The guy behind me complimented me on not crashing.

Final, though less surreal moment, was between the bike and the run, asking a girl for a squirt of her sunscreen. She gave me, literally, an ice cream scoop size of sunscreen and then I ended up dropping most of it INTO my sneaker, though I put it on anyway, because seriously, that's just how the day went.