When I signed up for the Pirate Triathlon yesterday, I made myself sign up quickly because I knew that if I waited, I'd talk myself out of it. Sure enough, by last night I was pretty close to being in a tizzy, and today I find myself smack-dab in the middle of a tizzy. What'll I wear? What do I carry? How do I practice getting from the water onto my bike? How will I bike up the hill? Will I forget how to swim, fall off my bike, or become so chafed from jogging/waddling that I'll end up a DNF (did not finish)?
Don't get me wrong – I'm really excited about the event. But I like to be prepared, and I'd like to do my best, and I hope that my best will be somewhat respectable (ideally before the 2:00pm teardown).
Will my wayward knee stand up to the stress of jogging? Just how cold will the water be? Will I be the only one not wearing a wet suit? What if, blind as a bat without my glasses, I can't find my way to my bike?
And just why, pray tell, did I think this would be a fun, adventurous way to spend a morning? How did I not realize that I just signed up for almost eight weeks of a new brand of angst?
I'm excited about the prospect of challenging myself and finding out if I've got this in me. Every time I picture crossing the finish line (one way or another) I start to get choked up and teary-eyed. Is it really possible that I could complete this?
I've got a plan. I've got two friends who are participating in the triathlon. They're way better athletes than I, and I expect they'll be blazing the trail far ahead of me, but it'll be nice to know there are friendly faces out there, ready to drag my tired self home when it's over. One of them has turned me on to a most appropriate book: The Slow Fat Triathlete by Jayne Williams. I'm learning a bunch from it, including many more scary scenarios I never would have come up with on my own.
In food news: the weekend had me falling (absolutely threw me) off the wagon, but I'm finding my way back on.
In WOW news: Whew! Today's was lots of hard work and lots of fun.
~Karin
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