It’s hard to turn down Phish tickets, so when your brother shows up in town with an extra lawn “seat” you tend to take it. Even if you have a sprint tri the next morning. It’s equally hard not to have a beer or three and impossible to not breathe in all the smoke around you. I was at least able to respectfully decline a hit from the most prepared concert goers I have ever come across in my life. But that’s another story. I even got to see Fishman do his vacuum solo! Well, in hindsight, that all was a bad idea. First, I set my alarm for PM instead of AM. Amazingly, I woke up in time to throw on my tri suit and run out the door to my (thankfully) already packed car. I raced to Oswego and beat the packet pickup cutoff by minutes. I believe…
Concerts and tris don’t mix
