8 days until Ironman UK (Sunday)

I had packed everything for the trip to the UK … except the bike.

(How does one pack a bike?)

You remove the wheels and bolt the frame onto the bike case.

(That doesn’t sound that difficult.)

It should not have been, except once you remove the back wheel you are dealing with a grease coated chain and a derailleur that also has to be removed.

(What is a derailleur?)

It is the bike gear shifter and if it is broken you will not be riding at all, so I was extra careful not to bend or break this piece of equipment. Naturally, I waited until our transport to the airport was only minutes away to begin the dismantling of the bike.

(Why did you wait so long?)

I had to get in a final bike ride that morning.

Once I had the bike fastened to the frame, I wrapped the derailleur in a cloth. The wheels zipped into pockets on the inside of the case. I tossed my wetsuit, bike shoes and helmet into the space underneath my bike seat and I zipped up the case.

We were on the way to Newark Airport and the app asked me if I wanted to pre-check?

Four people, check.

Four bags, check.

Then I see, “$300 to check the bike?!?!” I exclaim to everyone in Randy’s van.

I decided to wait until we got to the airport. It turned out that the bike was not an extra charge.

We were at Newark Airport at 5 p.m. for an 8 p.m. flight.

We were on board by 7:30 p.m. and then we sat on the tarmac until 9:20 p.m.

(Why?)

The food was late being delivered.

Then it was loaded … and we waited some more.

Someone left a food cart unaccounted for.

So, I almost climbed out on the wing and removed it myself.

We finally left after almost two hours of sitting in the plane, at the gate.

We were served dinner at 10 p.m.

(That is too late for dinner.)

I was hungry.

(You are always hungry.)

At 3 a.m. They served us breakfast. I asked my kids if they wanted their meals. They didn’t want food, just snacks.

“You can’t possibly eat three meals,” exclaimed my wife.

“Watch me.” After 21 years of marriage, 16 of which were triathlons, my wife has never doubted my ability to finish a race in time, but when it comes to food, she is still in disbelief that I can eat three times the normal amount of food.

7 days until Ironman UK (Monday)

We were supposed to land by 8:20 a.m., with a 12:15 connected flight to Rome.

We landed at 9 a.m., 40 minutes late.

(OK, we still have over three hours to make the connecting flight.)

As we waited for luggage, I checked that I had the passports … where was my wallet???

(You left it on the plane, you dodo!)

Now I remember … I left it on the plane.

(Trip over?)

No.

(No?)

No, I had my passport. My credit card was electronically on my phone and my wife still had her credit card.

As long as they located my wallet, all was going to be OK.

I texted my friend Peter Shankman. He flies United all the time. He would know what to do.

“I left my wallet on the plane when we landed in England. Who do I call?”

“Are you kidding me?! Do you at least have your passport?”

“Yes passport.” I was trying to keep the anxiety demons at bay. Freaking out would not make it better.

“Give me your seat number and ticket number. I’ll call in a few minutes.”

The baggage carousel spits out our luggage, but no bike.

(Oh boy.)

The last thing to come out were the bikes. I will never understand how luggage handlers pack airplanes.

(You had all of your bags, but no wallet; so now what?)

Since we did not plan to drag the bike across Italy, I needed to find luggage storage.

I had no idea what I was looking for.

I handed my family their passports and told them, “You go through those doors. Once I check the bike, I will meet you at terminal 5 for our connecting flight.”

I wheeled the bike through the doors to arrivals. Wheeled is a euphemism. This is a puffy, 40 pound oversized suitcase. You push it or you pull it. Once you pass through the security doors all you see are shops lining the corridor. I found the storage store. It looked like a combination between a luggage store and Mailboxes R Us.

Glad I gave my family their passports. I couldn’t go back.

So, now I have to get from terminal 2 to 5.

OK, walk?

No, go downstairs for the “4and5” transport train.

Now when I heard “4and5” I thought like a NYC subway rider; two stops, one after the other.

Nope.

I reached the #4 stop and waited on the other side of the platform for the return that would take me back to #2 so I could catch the #5 to my connecting flight. If you have ever waited on a subway platform and started whispering for the connecting subway to hurry up, then you are my people.

(You weren’t worried about your wallet anymore?)

Forget about my wallet, I was worried I was going to miss my connecting flight and be stranded.

David Roher is a USAT certified triathlon and marathon coach. He is a multi-Ironman finisher and veteran special education teacher. He is on Instagram @David Roher140.6. He can be reached at [email protected].