Triathlon....tomorrow.

Ok folks we're here. It's happening. Tomorrow.

I AM NERVOUS.

And of course, Steve is not. Because I am married to a person who doesn't have fear. Not because he's bigger or stronger or smarter than everyone else...just because he has no concept of failure. The idea simply doesn't occur to him, and if he does think about it, it's like "Eh, it's will be ok."

I know this sounds like a good trait, or a comforting thing....but it is not. It drives me crazy. Usually while I'm sitting over here pouring over details in my mind, and trying to imagine all of our transitions, stressing about what happens if my goggles get punched off my face, or I get a flat tire, or if I cramp up during the run, or if I am the last person on the course....mean while Steve's like "Oh yeah, we're doin' that race thing tomorrow. That should be fun."

In my last minute research last night I did read something comforting through. I found an article giving advice to first time racers and this part really jumped out to me: "You cannot change your fitness level now. You've done all the training you can. So now, just think of the race as a giant party to celebrate all of your hard work!"

Now a party is something I can totally get down with:

Weeeeeee!

Looking back on the last 6 months of training, I can tell you - I'm super glad we're doing this. Initially  this was just a way to anchor our workout aspirations to a physical commitment. Before Steve and I got married we were WAY more active. I ran half marathons, he was on a track team, lifted every day and I was really into rock climbing. Then all of this storm of a life took over, and I sat up one day feeling like I'd lost a part of myself along the way. 

We'd tried going to the gym, but really it just ended up being an ongoing conversation where we'd promise each other that we'd start going, we'd be more consistant, this month was busy, next month we'll make more time....and we never got there. And we fought about it. A LOT. 

So maybe it was a bit vindictive when I signed us up for this race as an anniversary present. Or selfish. It was a desperate swipe at the life I wanted to get back. A life where we had triceps instead of burrito arm. 

burrito · arm: noun
1) when one's limbs are so flabby, that when held against one's side it appears to resemble a burrito.
2) flabby, or muscle-less
3) pale and unattractive

Last night we wen't for a short 3 mile to just test out the legs before tomorrow. And I realized we've come a long way as a couple in the last 6 months. It's been good to push ourselves together...but also to find our own rhythms as individual race participants. We've learned how to run our own races, and I've had learn how to stay confident when Steve is having an awesome training day and I'm having bricks for legs. Or how to be encouraging when I'm kicking ass, instead of just letting it stroke my ego that I am actually beating Steve for once.

The funny thing is, I still kinda have burrito arm. I'm still scared. I still don't think we're actually trained enough. I still run slow miles, and we've only been in open water once. But here we are packing our transition bags. And I'm glad we're doing it.

Here's to hoping we don't drown.

See you Monday (hopefully with an awesome report),

-J