Give me a marathon any day, I say. Hey, give me back-to-back marathons everyday for the rest of my life and then let me come home and clean dog poop off my sofa. Let me do all those things and then rip off my arms and beat me with them, because that would be better than any form of swimming. Any. And all. Amen.
So I did my first triathlon and I didn’t die and I didn’t drown. It certainly wasn’t pretty and I’ll let the pictures tell the story, but I will insert this bit: I used every single ounce of energy I had in the swim and I had nothing left to give the rest of the race. There were only two people in the pool after me when I finished and I was practically crawling from the pool to my bike. Totally. Exhausted. And when did swimming become a contact sport? Please, don’t touch my fat! One would assume that since I am built like a buoy that I’d have a natural advantage in the pool. So. Not. True.
I’m thinking my fish friend, Michelle, might force me to take a swim lesson or two before my next tri. Wait, did I just say next one? What I meant to say was my back-to-back thousands of marathons with my legs tied together through a desert full of snakes with no water stations. Actually, I think that place is in Australia somewhere for real.
Total Time: 1:40:31
500-yard Swim: 19:09 T1: 2:05 13-mile Bike: 44:53 T:2 1:47 5K Run: 32:34
Of course, we had a fabulous time and fabulous hospitality from our super cool friends, Michelle and Phillip, in Oklahoma, and that made the trip almost worth swimming for! That, and a little wine.
**EDIT: I totally forgot, due to the angst of the swim, to mention that Michelle totally ROCKED the course and got 7th in her age group! And the husbands followed us around the course the entire day on their bikes and took pictures and had chilled wine waiting for us at the end (which was nice of them, even if it wasn’t demanded)! It doesn’t get much better.