I came in this morning to a decorated office and an email box full of good luck wishes for this weekend’s race. To say the least, I am excited. I’m a bit nervous because this is such a new experience, but also confident that I am well prepared for the challenge.
It has been a year of crazy, clutzy training. A year during which friends lent me their husbands for long weekend bike rides so I wouldn’t be out there talking to myself. A year of understanding coworkers who smiled as I hobbled around a flexed schedule and came in late after a 10-mile morning run. A year with a friend who patiently taught me how to maintain a bike, even a bike as temperamental as that sassy Ruby. A year when friends nodded and waved me away at 7 pm from countless happy hours and dinners. Needless to say, I haven’t gotten here alone.
Tri-training routines are certainly counter-cultural. I haven’t been the life of the party, but I have often been the first one to the gym. My priorities shifted sometime in the last year, making a great night sleep, a post-workout massage and a box of Clif Shot Blocks exceptionally valuable.
When the going gets tough out there, I’ve already got my visualization tools in mind. I’ll think of Lance Armstrong, when he returned for his opponent who’d fallen — a fantastic sign of sportsmanship. I’ll think of the triathlete father who accomplishes these races with his autistic son in tow. He doesn’t want his son to miss out on the opportunity. I’ll think of Rex, my running buddy. He survived cancer and is now out on the canals running again.
Come Sunday when I cross that finish line, I know I’ll be able to say regardless of my time that I gave every bit of me to this race. Hopefully I’ll also be smiling and plotting the next competition.
A shout out to everyone who has read these posts and cheered me along this year. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for your kind words!
Now, off to conquer 70.3 miles…
Cheers,
Kelli