Locked and loaded minutes before the winning triathlete reaches the 70km mark (where I’m positioned for today’s photographic extravaganza), I decide to blast out Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger and put it on repeat because, well, it’s a gosh darned awesome song and if an athlete isn’t motivated to keep pushing forward by listening to it then in all probability they don’t have a pulse. Continue reading “Tri of the Tiger at the Lough Cutra Triathlon 2017”→
The Guards come whizzing towards me with their lights flashing. The driver’s window zips open and they stare me down like a sheriff and his deputy eyeballing a new stranger in town in the Wild Wild West. But I’m not in the West today. I’m in the East at Dublin’s 70.3 Ironman 2016 (Thousands of photos will be here soon).
My plan is all set to work out flawlessly, I think, seconds before the start of my worst photography endeavour since My Pieta House Failure.
I have my gear set up, my camera settings perfected, and an umbrella over my head well in advance of those doing the Shan route passing by.
I got up early enough this morning to get the shots. Oh yes-sir-ree I did! I’m what you might call a cute whore. I’m ahead of the posse and I believe I’m going to get the money shots for sure! But I don’t. Continue reading “The Great Galway Bike Blur”→