triathlete

saturday was my triathlon, the woman of steel. and if you'd please excuse me, i'd like to toot my own horn here for a minute.

(my gear)

when i signed up for the triathlon i was six weeks postpartum. i had 29 pounds to lose to be at my pre-Penny weight (and another eleven after that). i could barely run a block or so. i had no clothes that fit. i was miserable in my body.

but i'd been there before, three years ago. and i know that bodies are remarkable and love to be pushed to new heights. so i set my sights really high. i've been thinking about a triathlon for years, but they seemed so...not for regular people. just for super athletes. but whatever, i just made a human so could it be harder than that?

so i trained. and trained and trained. five days a week for the last six months. it was my master and i was it's slave. it was tough. grueling. it was 5 a.m. mornings at the gym. late morning walks until i could run, pushing the girls in the (falling apart) jogger. it was swimming, biking, weights, running. it was counting every calorie i put in my mouth. it was learning new sport (and it's language). it was spending money on equipment i didn't know i need (hello biking shorts with PADDING!). it was choosing every single day that i wanted it; that i was going to make it happen. it was finding all new ways to motivate myself.

as the race approached i started to get really nervous. i felt as prepared as i could have been physically, considering where i had started. i did the entire race the saturday before at the gym. i knew i could swim 300 meters, bike 12.8 miles and then run 3 miles. but there was so much unknown. i've never done one of these and i only know four people who have. i called them and had them talk me through it again and again.

me: "are you sure i can't run into the bathroom and change into clothes after my swim?"

me: "are you sure i won't die?"

me: "what if my swimsuit rips in half?"

me: "what if i get a flat tire?"

me: "what happens if i die?"

me: "what if someone kicks me in the face while we're swimming?"

me: "what if someone faints when they see my body in all those (too) tight clothes?"

i think i was more nervous about the race than anything else i've done in a long time. i'd invested so much in training for the race, i just didn't want to blow it. i'd pictured myself crossing the finish line at least six times a day for the last six months. and if i didn't cross it, i'd be heartbroken.

devastated.

but,

i crossed finish line.

i did it.

jayson was waiting for me right over the finish line. i grabbed him, and he kept repeating to me, "i'm so proud of you. you did it. i'm so proud of you." we both cried, and the entire world melted away. in that moment it was only he and i. every once of pain and every sacrifice was worth it to feel what i felt then. it is almost indescribable. i was so proud of myself and so thankful for my body. it is a moment i will remember for the rest of my life. i kicked butt.

(my biggest fans)

of course, i didn't literally kick butt. i finished in the dead middle of the pack. that's all i wanted and all i expected. but, i did have the 14th fastest transition time at the first transition (i killed the transitions).

they had to modify the race since it was 40 degrees, raining and freezing. they switched the swim to an additional run. that wasn't my favorite, but i was also glad i didn't have to ride my bike and run wet. run, bike, run.

(joy, ryan, teresa and haylee came to cheer me on)

this race, the woman of steel was inspiring. it is an all woman triathlon and i saw ladies from all walks of life. some young, some old. some fit, some seeking to be fit. i was there alone, but many were there with friends and family. the energy was palpable. we got an email that included everyone's reason for doing the triathlon (we had to submit it with our application) and the reasons were varied; some were funny and some were heartbreaking. when i looked around during the race i knew we all had different reasons for racing, but that we were all seeking a common goal. to finish. to find some healing. to be triathletes.

and now i can count myself among them. i can call myself a triathlete.

i am a triathlete.

i am a woman of steel.

i'll never forget it.

issues.

I had a post all scripted in my head. It was all about whether I should cut my hair or not. I'm a short hair lover. Which you might think strange if you've only come to know me in the last couple months, because my hair is not short.

It's longer than it's been in at least 15 years, perhaps my whole life. It all started a couple years ago when I was going on and on about how much I love short hair, and how I think short hair looks better on me, etc. To which Jayson asked if I ever had long hair. Uh...not really. At least not when I knew anything about doing hair. So we both decided I should try it. For research, you know. I vowed not to cut until I had another child.

I kept good on my promise, but now my hair is driving me crazy and I'm ready to cut. I have all of the reasons ready to list off to you; why it's cheaper, easier, and sassier (I'm all about sassy).

But I have a dilemma. If I cut, I will look like everyone else. I swear everyone I know has short hair. Or maybe it just seems like everyone I know has short hair because I'm always admiring the bobs. Is it so bad to look like everyone else? Doesn't short hair rock? Don't I need it?

So I was searching for photos to show you what I looked like with short hair so you could give me your opinion. And I found my answer. I don't need to cut or not cut, I need to lose 30 pounds so my face is thinner again.

Thanks for solving my dilemma.

But then I found these two pictures and I have a new set of issues.

I miss this kid something fierce. I can't talk about it. I start crying. Work hard Drew, and then hurry your butt home.

And this........this...........this................. I can't talk about it. Then I might voluntarily offer limbs for someone to get me back to that island. And I kind of like my legs, especially my ankles.