RST old timers test

I can't come up with "The feet" reference Tom, but how about "DeBoom/DeBlah" from about 1995? I
don't think there is anyone left from those days still around! Mark Mannebach

Hi Mark

Yes, I still lurk, maybe once per week. The DeBoom/DeBlah brouhaha involved me a lot.

Ruth Kazez

SBRMJM1 said:

I can't come up with "The feet" reference Tom, but how about "DeBoom/DeBlah" from about 1995? I
don't think there is anyone left from those days still around! Mark Mannebach

Tom Henderson said:

OK, ten points to the first who can explain where the following reference came from:

"The feet"

I'm not precisely and old-timer, but I still consider myself an old-timer (of sorts). I'll take my
best guess, however. Is that from Tricia Richter's 1997 IMC Race Report? I read that thing almost
weekly leading up to my first at IMC 1998 to get psyched up.

TR raced IM-USA last week and looked good doing it!

Hurricane Bob
* Back in the day... *

Some of us are still around, just not as often and not as active. I actually had a bunch of problems
with my ISP and being able to post.

I don't recall "the feet" but the deboom/deblah post brings back some memories.

David W / FEY2K
---------------------
reply to xoxoWUTHNGxoxo (without the xoxo) at bellsouth d o t n e t

SBRMJM1 <[email hidden]> wrote ...

Quoted message said:

I can't come up with "The feet" reference Tom, but how about

"DeBoom/DeBlah"

Quoted message said:

from about 1995? I don't think there is anyone left from those days still around! Mark Mannebach

[email hidden] (Bob Mina) wrote in :"]news:[email hidden]:

Quoted message said:

I'm not precisely and old-timer, but I still consider myself an old-timer (of sorts). I'll take my
best guess, however. Is that from Tricia Richter's 1997 IMC Race Report? I read that thing almost
weekly leading up to my first at IMC 1998 to get psyched up.

We have a winner!

I guess I'm not really an old timer either, because I don't recall the DeBoom/Deblah thread.

For the record, here's TriBaby's original post:

From: Tricia Richter ([email hidden]) Subject: O Canada! Part II View: Complete Thread
(3 articles) Original Format Newsgroups: rec.sport.triathlon Date: 1997/09/16

Yeeeeehaw!

My Ironday begins with a whoop and a bellyflop into the shallow water. As it turns out, our starting
position couldn't have been more perfect; a nice cushion of water enables me to get horizontal and
begin swimming right away, and while it's certainly crowded, it's hardly the free-for-all one might
have expected. Heck, I've had tougher swim starts at Danskin.

The usual bumping and jockeying for position phases me not at all; it's just like any other race,
I've been through this dozens of times and am quite at home. Stroke, stroke, splash, breathe, lift
your head to sight, swim around the guy in front of you, stroke, roll, kick, breathe, navigate, kick
the guy behind off of your legs, sprint for the gap between the two fellows in front of you, stroke,
stroke....

So, here I am, at last the moment has come and I am beginning my very first Ironman. Even now, I
can't help but see the absurdity of what I'm doing. I'm not the least bit fearful or nervous.
Believe it or not, the overriding emotion of the moment is pure, unadulterated amusement. I can't
help it, it's just too damned funny! *I'm* doing an Ironman! And what's running through my head?
"Vogue! Vogue! Let your body go with the flow, baby, you know you can do it! Strike a
pose---Vogue! Vogue!"

I'm a poser! What the hell do I think I'm doing here?? At odd moments throughout the preceding days
I would burst forth in peals of spontaneous laughter that left Skippy glancing at me sideways with
not a little concern. Had TriBaby finally flipped over the edge? Was she going to lose it before she
even got to the starting line here?

Naw! If anything, the laughter offered proof of my sanity, indicating I was well aware of the
ridiculousness of my presence in Penticton for this event. I was going to tackle the legendary
140.6, and it was just too silly for words. I *had* to laugh. The alternative was too scary to
contemplate....

So now here I am, stroking my way merrily through the unceasing melee of thrashing arms and legs as
the litany of classic stars (and others) dances through my brain: "Greta Garbo, and Monroe; Dietrich
and DiMaggio; Marlon Brando, Jimmy Dean--on the cover of a magazine; Grace Kelly; Harlow,
Jean---picture of a beauty queen; Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers danced on air. They had
style, they had grace; Rita Hayworth gave good face. Lauren, Katharine, Lana, too; Bette Davis---we
love you. Ladies with an attitude; fellas that were in the mood. Don't just stand there---let's get
to it: Strike a pose, there's nothing to it---VOGUE!"

Attitude, yeah! That's what I've got! And it's gonna get me through this thing. But attitude or no
attitude, I sure do wish the pack would break up; this is getting downright tiresome. That's the
trouble with being a perfectly mediocre swimmer---you're surrounded by all of the other mediocre
swimmers and you never spread out. Darn! And the chop out here, Ay yi yi! It's almost like Alcatraz.
The stiff wind blowing across the Lake from the North is kicking up a steady parade of 6-inch swells
that pack just enough punch to be annoying.

Well, I Vogue my way successfully through this mess to the first turnaround boat and spin stylishly
around it to the cheers of the occupants. The short leg to the next turnaround boat worries me a bit
because I can't see the line of buoys, so I put my trust in my fellow mediocrities and follow their
lead. I wind up zigging a little bit but it doesn't appear to be too damaging. At last I reach the
second boat and swing gratefully around it, carefully avoiding the crush of swimmers directly on the
keel. OK, here we go, the final leg, and am I glad! I'm gettin' mighty tired of swimming. I resist
the temptation to cop a look at my watch--don't do it, kid, just keep swimming, less than a mile
left to go.

The noxious chop that plagued us on the way out now gently helps to push us back toward shore. Thank
heaven for small favors! Thank heaven, too, that the overcast is keeping the early morning sun from
blinding us on the return trip. Of course, that overcast might not prove to be such a good thing
later on if it doesn't let up, but for the moment, it is a good thing.

All right, let's be honest now; I'm gettin' REAL bored here! I want this swim to be over 5 minutes
ago. "Vogue" has worn a wearisome groove in my mental record player and I'm ready for a little
change of pace. I keep looking up to sight on the hot air balloon back at the transition area, but
Damn! It just never seems to get any closer. After three or four such disappointments, I begin to
get cranky. Will this never end??

At about this juncture I encounter The Feet. The Feet are attached to a maddening man with a beard
wearing an Ironman wetsuit who just happens to swim at EXACTLY my pace. So what's wrong with that?
Well, nothing, except that right now I'm really cranky, and all I keep seeing is this guy's feet,
and they're long and white and skinny and THEY NEVER MOVE. I swear, the man never kicked, not
once; he just dragged his long skinny white feet along behind him--and directly in front of me. I
cannot escape them! I try swimming to the left, but somehow, The Feet appear once again
immediately in front of. Now I veer to the right, heading directly for the next buoy. No dice; as
if by magic, The Feet appear in all their inexplicably maddening glory, directly before me.
Aaaaagh! Is there no escape??

At last, in a spasm of desperation, I summon all the sprinting power I have left in me and blast
away from The Feet in a decisive manner. WHEW! At last I have lost The Feet! They'll plague me no
more! And look, the shore's only about 200 meters distant. Hammer time, kiddo, let's bring it home.

Stroking away for all I'm worth, I remind myself of all those awful 100 meter repeats in training
and try to replicate the effort. Sure, it hurts, but let it hurt---you're almost done with this
bloody swim! With just about 30 meters left to go I switch gears and begin dolphining as hard as I
can in the shallows. Transition area dead ahead, Captain! We're almost home!

One last dolphin, and now it's time to run. Hit the split button on the watch---1:12:00 flat,
right on schedule. Reach for the wetsuit zip cord as I stride awkwardly to shore and peel the top
of the wetsuit down, catching the sleeve stupidly on my HRM receiver, damn! All right, all right,
don't sweat it, you've got all day. First course is finished, now it's time to serve up a little
bike ride....

Tri-Baby

_
- o ' - __o - </\_ ` ' - \< - __/\ /\o_ - (()) (()) - /
^^^^^^^^^^

"REAL Triathletes don't draft." *** Ironman Canada 1997 ***

Bob Mina said:

TR raced IM-USA last week and looked good doing it!

I'm a sort-of-part-time-old-timer and I was in LP last week also (I "raced" but didn't quite
finish). I've never met Tricia but I certainly recognized the name when she was called on
stage at the awards dinner to receive her Athena award. I meant to track her down afterward
but, uh, I forgot.

Cheers, Doug "maybe next time" Fuller

I 'm one of the old timers who mostly lurks and I can tell you Tricia aka tribaby is still round. We
don't know each other but she is hard to miss. Big, tall and very blond. I think the last time I saw
her was at the 2002 Wildflower and San Jose International. I also found it very interesting that she
was very outspoken for a long time on RST then disappeared. I miss her incite, wit and her cookies.

"Doug Fuller" <[email hidden](remove_underscores)> wrote in message
"]news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

Bob Mina said:

TR raced IM-USA last week and looked good doing it!

I'm a sort-of-part-time-old-timer and I was in LP last week also (I

"raced"

Quoted message said:

but didn't quite finish). I've never met Tricia but I certainly

recognized

Quoted message said:

the name when she was called on stage at the awards dinner to receive her Athena award. I meant to
track her down afterward but, uh, I forgot.

Cheers, Doug "maybe next time" Fuller

"Doug Fuller" <[email hidden](remove_underscores)> wrote in message
news:<[email hidden]>...

I might add that she (Tricia R.) was also pictured in the last edition of Women's Sports Illustrated
(if my memory is correct).

Joe M

Quoted message said:

Bob Mina said:

TR raced IM-USA last week and looked good doing it!

I'm a sort-of-part-time-old-timer and I was in LP last week also (I "raced" but didn't quite
finish). I've never met Tricia but I certainly recognized the name when she was called on stage
at the awards dinner to receive her Athena award. I meant to track her down afterward but, uh,
I forgot.

Cheers, Doug "maybe next time" Fuller

Jay Japka said:

I also found it very interesting that she was very outspoken for a long time on RST then
disappeared. I

miss

Quoted message said:

her incite, wit and her cookies.

I think she posts on Slowtwitch's forum on occasion.

Cheers, Doug

Tom Henderson <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:<[email hidden]>...

Quoted message said:

OK, ten points to the first who can explain where the following reference came from:

"The feet"

Name the poster and the date. 5 bonus points if you can repost the actual text it came from. 2000
bonus points if you can talk him/her into dropping in to say hi.

Since someone already got that one...how about this old timer -

Who was the "Noodle"???

[email hidden] (Marty Miller) wrote in :"]news:[email hidden]:

Quoted message said:

Since someone already got that one...how about this old timer -

Who was the "Noodle"???

It sounded familiar, but I had to look it up. Since I cheated, I won't blurt out the answer.

Ummm... could it be a guy named Marty? ;-)

David W / FEY2K
----------------------
reply at xoxoWUTHNGxoxo (remove the xo's) at bellsouth d o t n e t

Marty Miller <[email hidden]> wrote ...

Quoted message said:

Since someone already got that one...how about this old timer - Who was the "Noodle"???

OK, I'm not an old timer (been around since 2001), so I never saw tri baby's original IMC
race report.

Tom's post (below) got me hooked and I wet looking for the rest. Unfortunately, Google's archives
won't pull up part VII or IX. Anyone know where I can find the full text?

John

Tom Henderson said:

[email hidden] (Bob Mina) wrote in :"]news:[email hidden]:

Quoted message said:

I'm not precisely and old-timer, but I still consider myself an old-timer (of sorts). I'll take
my best guess, however. Is that from Tricia Richter's 1997 IMC Race Report? I read that thing
almost weekly leading up to my first at IMC 1998 to get psyched up.

We have a winner!

I guess I'm not really an old timer either, because I don't recall the DeBoom/Deblah thread.

For the record, here's TriBaby's original post:

From: Tricia Richter ([email hidden]) Subject: O Canada! Part II View: Complete
Thread (3 articles) Original Format Newsgroups: rec.sport.triathlon Date: 1997/09/16

Yeeeeehaw!

My Ironday begins with a whoop and a bellyflop into the shallow water. As it turns out, our
starting position couldn't have been more perfect; a nice cushion of water enables me to get
horizontal and begin swimming right away, and while it's certainly crowded, it's hardly the
free-for-all one might have expected. Heck, I've had tougher swim starts at Danskin.

The usual bumping and jockeying for position phases me not at all; it's just like any other race,
I've been through this dozens of times and am quite at home. Stroke, stroke, splash, breathe, lift
your head to sight, swim around the guy in front of you, stroke, roll, kick, breathe, navigate,
kick the guy behind off of your legs, sprint for the gap between the two fellows in front of you,
stroke, stroke....

So, here I am, at last the moment has come and I am beginning my very first Ironman. Even now, I
can't help but see the absurdity of what I'm doing. I'm not the least bit fearful or nervous.
Believe it or not, the overriding emotion of the moment is pure, unadulterated amusement. I can't
help it, it's just too damned funny! *I'm* doing an Ironman! And what's running through my head?
"Vogue! Vogue! Let your body go with the flow, baby, you know you can do it! Strike a
pose---Vogue! Vogue!"

I'm a poser! What the hell do I think I'm doing here?? At odd moments throughout the preceding
days I would burst forth in peals of spontaneous laughter that left Skippy glancing at me sideways
with not a little concern. Had TriBaby finally flipped over the edge? Was she going to lose it
before she even got to the starting line here?

Naw! If anything, the laughter offered proof of my sanity, indicating I was well aware of the
ridiculousness of my presence in Penticton for this event. I was going to tackle the legendary
140.6, and it was just too silly for words. I *had* to laugh. The alternative was too scary to
contemplate....

So now here I am, stroking my way merrily through the unceasing melee of thrashing arms and legs
as the litany of classic stars (and others) dances through my brain: "Greta Garbo, and Monroe;
Dietrich and DiMaggio; Marlon Brando, Jimmy Dean--on the cover of a magazine; Grace Kelly; Harlow,
Jean---picture of a beauty queen; Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers danced on air. They had
style, they had grace; Rita Hayworth gave good face. Lauren, Katharine, Lana, too; Bette
Davis---we love you. Ladies with an attitude; fellas that were in the mood. Don't just stand
there---let's get to it: Strike a pose, there's nothing to it---VOGUE!"

Attitude, yeah! That's what I've got! And it's gonna get me through this thing. But attitude or no
attitude, I sure do wish the pack would break up; this is getting downright tiresome. That's the
trouble with being a perfectly mediocre swimmer---you're surrounded by all of the other mediocre
swimmers and you never spread out. Darn! And the chop out here, Ay yi yi! It's almost like
Alcatraz. The stiff wind blowing across the Lake from the North is kicking up a steady parade of
6-inch swells that pack just enough punch to be annoying.

Well, I Vogue my way successfully through this mess to the first turnaround boat and spin
stylishly around it to the cheers of the occupants. The short leg to the next turnaround boat
worries me a bit because I can't see the line of buoys, so I put my trust in my fellow
mediocrities and follow their lead. I wind up zigging a little bit but it doesn't appear to be too
damaging. At last I reach the second boat and swing gratefully around it, carefully avoiding the
crush of swimmers directly on the keel. OK, here we go, the final leg, and am I glad! I'm gettin'
mighty tired of swimming. I resist the temptation to cop a look at my watch--don't do it, kid,
just keep swimming, less than a mile left to go.

The noxious chop that plagued us on the way out now gently helps to push us back toward shore.
Thank heaven for small favors! Thank heaven, too, that the overcast is keeping the early morning
sun from blinding us on the return trip. Of course, that overcast might not prove to be such a
good thing later on if it doesn't let up, but for the moment, it is a good thing.

All right, let's be honest now; I'm gettin' REAL bored here! I want this swim to be over 5 minutes
ago. "Vogue" has worn a wearisome groove in my mental record player and I'm ready for a little
change of pace. I keep looking up to sight on the hot air balloon back at the transition area, but
Damn! It just never seems to get any closer. After three or four such disappointments, I begin to
get cranky. Will this never end??

At about this juncture I encounter The Feet. The Feet are attached to a maddening man with a beard
wearing an Ironman wetsuit who just happens to swim at EXACTLY my pace. So what's wrong with that?
Well, nothing, except that right now I'm really cranky, and all I keep seeing is this guy's feet,
and they're long and white and skinny and THEY NEVER MOVE. I swear, the man never kicked, not
once; he just dragged his long skinny white feet along behind him--and directly in front of me. I
cannot escape them! I try swimming to the left, but somehow, The Feet appear once again
immediately in front of. Now I veer to the right, heading directly for the next buoy. No dice; as
if by magic, The Feet appear in all their inexplicably maddening glory, directly before me.
Aaaaagh! Is there no escape??

At last, in a spasm of desperation, I summon all the sprinting power I have left in me and
blast away from The Feet in a decisive manner. WHEW! At last I have lost The Feet! They'll
plague me no more! And look, the shore's only about 200 meters distant. Hammer time, kiddo,
let's bring it home.

Stroking away for all I'm worth, I remind myself of all those awful 100 meter repeats in training
and try to replicate the effort. Sure, it hurts, but let it hurt---you're almost done with this
bloody swim! With just about 30 meters left to go I switch gears and begin dolphining as hard as I
can in the shallows. Transition area dead ahead, Captain! We're almost home!

One last dolphin, and now it's time to run. Hit the split button on the watch---1:12:00 flat,
right on schedule. Reach for the wetsuit zip cord as I stride awkwardly to shore and peel the top
of the wetsuit down, catching the sleeve stupidly on my HRM receiver, damn! All right, all right,
don't sweat it, you've got all day. First course is finished, now it's time to serve up a little
bike ride....

Tri-Baby

_
- o ' - __o - </\_ ` ' - \< - __/\ /\o_ - (()) (()) - /
^^^^^^^^^^

"REAL Triathletes don't draft." *** Ironman Canada 1997 ***

John Hardt said:

OK, I'm not an old timer (been around since 2001), so I never saw tri baby's original IMC
race report.

Tom's post (below) got me hooked and I wet looking for the rest. Unfortunately, Google's archives
won't pull up part VII or IX. Anyone know where I can find the full text?

John

Tom Henderson said:

[email hidden] (Bob Mina) wrote in :"]news:[email hidden]:

Quoted message said:

I'm not precisely and old-timer, but I still consider myself an old-timer (of sorts). I'll take
my best guess, however. Is that from Tricia Richter's 1997 IMC Race Report? I read that thing
almost weekly leading up to my first at IMC 1998 to get psyched up.

We have a winner!

I guess I'm not really an old timer either, because I don't recall the DeBoom/Deblah thread.

For the record, here's TriBaby's original post:

From: Tricia Richter ([email hidden]) Subject: O Canada! Part II View: Complete
Thread (3 articles) Original Format Newsgroups: rec.sport.triathlon Date: 1997/09/16

Yeeeeehaw!

My Ironday begins with a whoop and a bellyflop into the shallow water. As it turns out, our
starting position couldn't have been more perfect; a nice cushion of water enables me to get
horizontal and begin swimming right away, and while it's certainly crowded, it's hardly the
free-for-all one might have expected. Heck, I've had tougher swim starts at Danskin.

The usual bumping and jockeying for position phases me not at all; it's just like any other race,
I've been through this dozens of times and am quite at home. Stroke, stroke, splash, breathe, lift
your head to sight, swim around the guy in front of you, stroke, roll, kick, breathe, navigate,
kick the guy behind off of your legs, sprint for the gap between the two fellows in front of you,
stroke, stroke....

So, here I am, at last the moment has come and I am beginning my very first Ironman. Even now, I
can't help but see the absurdity of what I'm doing. I'm not the least bit fearful or nervous.
Believe it or not, the overriding emotion of the moment is pure, unadulterated amusement. I can't
help it, it's just too damned funny! *I'm* doing an Ironman! And what's running through my head?
"Vogue! Vogue! Let your body go with the flow, baby, you know you can do it! Strike a
pose---Vogue! Vogue!"

I'm a poser! What the hell do I think I'm doing here?? At odd moments throughout the preceding
days I would burst forth in peals of spontaneous laughter that left Skippy glancing at me sideways
with not a little concern. Had TriBaby finally flipped over the edge? Was she going to lose it
before she even got to the starting line here?

Naw! If anything, the laughter offered proof of my sanity, indicating I was well aware of the
ridiculousness of my presence in Penticton for this event. I was going to tackle the legendary
140.6, and it was just too silly for words. I *had* to laugh. The alternative was too scary to
contemplate....

So now here I am, stroking my way merrily through the unceasing melee of thrashing arms and legs
as the litany of classic stars (and others) dances through my brain: "Greta Garbo, and Monroe;
Dietrich and DiMaggio; Marlon Brando, Jimmy Dean--on the cover of a magazine; Grace Kelly; Harlow,
Jean---picture of a beauty queen; Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers danced on air. They had
style, they had grace; Rita Hayworth gave good face. Lauren, Katharine, Lana, too; Bette
Davis---we love you. Ladies with an attitude; fellas that were in the mood. Don't just stand
there---let's get to it: Strike a pose, there's nothing to it---VOGUE!"

Attitude, yeah! That's what I've got! And it's gonna get me through this thing. But attitude or no
attitude, I sure do wish the pack would break up; this is getting downright tiresome. That's the
trouble with being a perfectly mediocre swimmer---you're surrounded by all of the other mediocre
swimmers and you never spread out. Darn! And the chop out here, Ay yi yi! It's almost like
Alcatraz. The stiff wind blowing across the Lake from the North is kicking up a steady parade of
6-inch swells that pack just enough punch to be annoying.

Well, I Vogue my way successfully through this mess to the first turnaround boat and spin
stylishly around it to the cheers of the occupants. The short leg to the next turnaround boat
worries me a bit because I can't see the line of buoys, so I put my trust in my fellow
mediocrities and follow their lead. I wind up zigging a little bit but it doesn't appear to be too
damaging. At last I reach the second boat and swing gratefully around it, carefully avoiding the
crush of swimmers directly on the keel. OK, here we go, the final leg, and am I glad! I'm gettin'
mighty tired of swimming. I resist the temptation to cop a look at my watch--don't do it, kid,
just keep swimming, less than a mile left to go.

The noxious chop that plagued us on the way out now gently helps to push us back toward shore.
Thank heaven for small favors! Thank heaven, too, that the overcast is keeping the early morning
sun from blinding us on the return trip. Of course, that overcast might not prove to be such a
good thing later on if it doesn't let up, but for the moment, it is a good thing.

All right, let's be honest now; I'm gettin' REAL bored here! I want this swim to be over 5 minutes
ago. "Vogue" has worn a wearisome groove in my mental record player and I'm ready for a little
change of pace. I keep looking up to sight on the hot air balloon back at the transition area, but
Damn! It just never seems to get any closer. After three or four such disappointments, I begin to
get cranky. Will this never end??

At about this juncture I encounter The Feet. The Feet are attached to a maddening man with a beard
wearing an Ironman wetsuit who just happens to swim at EXACTLY my pace. So what's wrong with that?
Well, nothing, except that right now I'm really cranky, and all I keep seeing is this guy's feet,
and they're long and white and skinny and THEY NEVER MOVE. I swear, the man never kicked, not
once; he just dragged his long skinny white feet along behind him--and directly in front of me. I
cannot escape them! I try swimming to the left, but somehow, The Feet appear once again
immediately in front of. Now I veer to the right, heading directly for the next buoy. No dice; as
if by magic, The Feet appear in all their inexplicably maddening glory, directly before me.
Aaaaagh! Is there no escape??

At last, in a spasm of desperation, I summon all the sprinting power I have left in me and
blast away from The Feet in a decisive manner. WHEW! At last I have lost The Feet! They'll
plague me no more! And look, the shore's only about 200 meters distant. Hammer time, kiddo,
let's bring it home.

Stroking away for all I'm worth, I remind myself of all those awful 100 meter repeats in training
and try to replicate the effort. Sure, it hurts, but let it hurt---you're almost done with this
bloody swim! With just about 30 meters left to go I switch gears and begin dolphining as hard as I
can in the shallows. Transition area dead ahead, Captain! We're almost home!

One last dolphin, and now it's time to run. Hit the split button on the watch---1:12:00 flat,
right on schedule. Reach for the wetsuit zip cord as I stride awkwardly to shore and peel the top
of the wetsuit down, catching the sleeve stupidly on my HRM receiver, damn! All right, all right,
don't sweat it, you've got all day. First course is finished, now it's time to serve up a little
bike ride....

Tri-Baby

_
- o ' - __o - </\_ ` ' - \< - __/\ /\o_ - (()) (()) - /
^^^^^^^^^^

"REAL Triathletes don't draft." *** Ironman Canada 1997 ***

this works for me. stanford.educan98.htmlOpen ↗

Good luck!

Ian

(Bob Mina) said:

TR raced IM-USA last week and looked good doing it!

Quite a few of us RST "old timers" were at LP last week, swimming the swim course, swimming the bike
course, swimming in the transition tents, swimming the run course...

Did I mention it rained in LP? <g>

Mike Tennent "IronPenguin"

I'm left from those days.

Ray

"SBRMJM1" <[email hidden]> wrote in message "]news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

I can't come up with "The feet" reference Tom, but how about

"DeBoom/DeBlah"

Quoted message said:

from about 1995? I don't think there is anyone left from those days still around! Mark Mannebach

Ruthie!

How are you doing? We must do lunch sometime.

Ray

"rtk" <[email hidden]> wrote in message "]news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

Hi Mark

Yes, I still lurk, maybe once per week. The DeBoom/DeBlah brouhaha involved me a lot.

Ruth Kazez

SBRMJM1 said:

I can't come up with "The feet" reference Tom, but how about

"DeBoom/DeBlah"

Quoted message said:

Quoted message said:

from about 1995? I don't think there is anyone left from those days still around! Mark Mannebach

You are the noodle boy! I remember well. Welcome home, my friend. I am old-timer, too. I use
alias now because the internet has gotten bad over the years. Deboom/Debah and tri-baby. Wow
what memories.

Hoo

(Marty Miller) said:

Tom Henderson <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:<[email hidden]>...

Quoted message said:

OK, ten points to the first who can explain where the following reference came from:

"The feet"

Name the poster and the date. 5 bonus points if you can repost the actual text it came from. 2000
bonus points if you can talk him/her into dropping in to say hi.

Since someone already got that one...how about this old timer -

Who was the "Noodle"???

I haven't lurked on RST for about a year. Decided to spend some time looking over the archived
messages to get some motivation for Ironman Wisconsin and what do I see but a bunch of names
from the past.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Now, what is this drafting-legal thingie I've heard about. 8^)

Todd Jensen