Bitter, party of one, your table is now available….
Remember THAT rap song, Don’t Believe the Hype with Flava Flav? Yeah, that’s about what I have to say about the REV3 series, but mostly about their ‘customer service.’ For a $250 entry fee and a second home mortgage, you too can enter a race with all the amenities and have NO FINISHING TIME. Yes, people, that’s me #425, DNS … when, in fact, I did show. Not only did I show, I would have been 4th or 5th…that’s if their race results that ARE posted are even correct. Who knows. Post race I was assured that timing and scoring issues were being worked out and that they would be corrected. I was told this in person by a REV3 Director, of some kind. She hands me her card and says, email me if you have any issues. Well, for two days, I’ve been emailing anyone on their contact list. Yep, nada, no response. I am a reasonable person, maybe a little nuts, but reasonable. For $250 I DO expect customer service. If I go to a high end restaurant and something is wrong with my meal, I expect it to be corrected … at a minimum, hell, give me a free dessert for my trouble. That is the part that is MOST disappointing, no response at all. Weak at best. As you might imagine, this is my impression of the REV3 series. Yes, people, just like WTC and NA Sports, it’s about the money. Understandably, any company is in the business of making money. However, as the price tag goes up, so do my expectations. I think for any race the MINIMUM expectation is correct timing and scoring. Hell, at this point, a phone call and an apology would do. I’ll even send you back your t-shirts.
Tell your neighbors, tell your friends, save your money for an organization that is well, uh, organized.
Besides my ‘killer good’ experience there were highlights. Let me start by saying, my friends, team mates and coach (they are interchangeable) are the best. At least, WE had fun during our last ‘workout’. Yeah, this was just a workout for me SINCE I HAVE NO FINISHING TIME AND COULD HAVE DONE THAT SHIT ON MY OWN, but I digress. I will save my workout report for later but pre-race always brings on some hilarity in my neck of the woods.
Since this was not an A Race for me (thank gawd, can you imagine how pissed I’d really be), I was very relaxed or lax in my knowledge of the course, swim start etc. It was not something I was going to worry about. We did a baby sized workout on Saturday that involved me, some train tracks, my bathing suit and a serious raspberry on my arse. I was bruised, battered but we forged on. I wanted to cry just a little but I didn’t. It freakin hurt. Now, I just have a bruised arse with an extra crack in it. This was only the beginning of the karma or cloud that was to follow us all weekend long…
Pre-race dinner – HellO, if there’s a Mellow Mushroom in your town, we are there. Holy shit, you said draft beers are $2!?!?! The good one’s even? You mean we can have a total blast on $10!?! Crap, we have to race tomorrow you said…and coach came with us to dinner and cut our asses off after one beer. Sonofabitch, who invited THIS guy? We know Mrs. Swami would have totally supported our decision.
Anyway, I did realize that the swim start was a bit of a walk from T1. What about my tender baby feet? Baaahahaha. Flip flops, cheap flip flops from the Walgreens to walk to the swim start. Yeah, uh, two blisters and red dye lead poisoning from my cheap ass flip flops later, I’m at the swim start. And that’s how the day STARTED…