Eleven days ago I begrudingly signed up for a local triathlon. I’ve only been in a pool three times since Anna was born in August of last year and on my bike twice. However, I told myself I would do this triathlon no matter what shape I’m in. If I’m 50 and my BMI is 38, I’m still going to do this triathlon… that’s what I told myself.
I’m happy to report I did the triathlon and felt really good about my output. I didn’t break any personal records for this triathlon, but I was faster than last year’s effort. I didn’t get frustrated with my fitness level and I kept positive thoughts pumping through my head. The swim was good although my legs got tired early in the 14 minute open water swim. I always forget how much I use my legs when swimming until they’re unresponsive. The bike ride was great mainly because I got to see my wife and daughter cheering me on at the start. That was an overwhelming experience which may have led to a tear or two.
I didn’t bust ass on the bike, but I kept a nice steady pace and clocked an average speed of 18.5 mph over the 12 mile course. Finally the run didn’t punish me as much as it did last year. I started off slow and steady and was able to finish strong, clocking an improvement of 90 seconds over last year’s event.
I stayed true to my word by completing the triathlon and having fun in the process. The mindset has shifted a bit in the past two years from kicking ass to using triathlons as a form of exercise. Sunday night I scoured the internet looking for information on future triathlons. A rebirth may be on the horizon.
Saturday my wife and I did some long overdue gardening. We bought some plants and got them in pots. See, buying plants is fun and easy. It’s sort of like laundry. I have no issues getting clothes in the washer and then the dryer. It’s the folding and putting away of the clothes that sucks. Same here with plants, buying rules. Sticking them in the ground/pots once I get home, not a strength of mine.
While cleaning our planting work Saturday night, I contemplated packing our Subaru with my triathlon gear for a smooth early morning exit on Sunday. Damn good thing I didn’t since someone decided to break into our Subaru. I don’t leave anything of any value in the car because it has been burglarized a few times before. Tonight I will be scribing notes with “fuck you” on them and sticking them in the glove box, ashtray, and other hiding spots of the car. I do have to make sure Baby Singe doesn’t find them and bring them into daycare.