I’m finally in Mexico. I’ve never seen a flight with so many triathletes on board as the flight from LAX into Mazatlan tonight. The best thing? I took Barb Lindquist’s advice and scheduled a shuttle on King David Tours. I got to my hotel over an hour before some of the people on the same flight.
There are pictures posted from last weekend’s South Beach Triathlon. None are particularly good.
I need to either go to bed or find a supermarket. Probably bed. Jesus had to be at work on time (I caused him to be late twice, along with missing an entire day in order to hang out with me, so when he offered to give me a ride to the airport on the condition that I get there over four hours before my flight, I understood). Still, it was a long day. The first flight took an hour longer than expected, and I felt like a real jerk covering my face with a blanket as the woman next to me coughed continuously into a no-so-closed hand.
One cool thing (which will only be cool the first time, and will become very annoying in the future): In Miami they had this big explosive detector that you stand inside, and it blows air at you, then sniffs the air, then says you can proceed to the security check point, as per usual. The line was short, or this may be the very bottleneck TSA needs to justify laying off some of their officers (if the bottleneck is not related to the number of officers, then there’s no need to have so many, right?)
It’s dark, but I think my hotel is on the water. It’s all black out my window, except for the two pools with water slides down below. Tomorrow’s swim may have to involve these.