The kids had so much fun splashing and swimming in the mostly shallow water. It was hot, but the water kept us cool. I was so worried about getting sunburned and dehydrated for the following day's race that I was constantly seeking shade or covering up. I joked with David that that must be what his pale-self feels like all the time! We chased fish around in the water for awhile and dug in the sand. Around 4pm, I picked up my race packet at the nearby pavilion and got the info on swim start waves. After about another hour of playtime, we went back to the hotel to shower and change for dinner.
Though we had been warned about how terrible the food onsite was, we opted to eat at our hotel's restaurant. We got some grilled chicken and fruit for Audrey and chicken fingers for Luke. I got a salad with chicken and I can't remember what David got, but it was all pretty gross. The service was great, but they the food really was as bad as we had heard. Unfortunately there just aren't any other restaurant options closeby down there. We decided to wash it down with some ice cream, so we drove back to the ice cream truck we'd seen at Robin Lake Beach earlier that day. I asked about gluten-free flavors and the lady told me that all of their ice cream had gluten in it. This is not unheard of (all of Bluebell has wheat flour in it), but it is extremely rare. Whether it was true or not, we weren't going to chance it. We slunked away and promised the kids we'd find something else.
We ended up finding a ice cream shop in a gas station center and went inside to see what they offered. They did have some GF choices, so we placed our order and climbed onto stools at a high-top. On the way back into Callaway, we decided to stop by the acrobatic circus that Florida State University students were putting on for free. We stayed about an hour, watching some pretty impressive stunts and swinging acts. It ended around 9pm and we drove back to our hotel to turn in for the night. Unfortunately, Audrey didn't sleep well (she had stomachache on top of usual insomnia) and neither did I (nerves and Audrey), so it was not ideal when my alarm clock went off at 5:30am. I dressed quietly in the dark before waking everyone else. They were grumpy, but they obliged.
As we pulled into the parking lot, I took one look at the transition area and felt panic rise in my chest. It was packed full. I'd read just days earlier that this event draws 400-500 participants, which is about 300-400 more than my other triathlons have been. YIKES. That was a LOT of elbows and feet to get hit with during the swim and a lot of bikes to pass or be passed by on the course!
We managed to find a parking spot and hauled my bike and gear to transition. I laid out all of my stuff and then went to get body marked and grab my chip timer. I walked back to transition to double and triple check that my stuff was in order before joining the growing line at the bathroom. I chatted with a few of the ladies near me, some of which had done the race before. I always like hearing their tips for the course, though sometimes they also throw in a tidbit that doesn't help my nerves at all ("Oh yeah. The run is killer." Greeeeeaaaaat.)
Before long it was time for me to walk the 1/4 mile over to the swim start. I said goodbye to the kids and got good luck hugs, but not before tearing up and whispering to David that I was super scared. My last swim on my previous tri a few weeks prior had been terrible, and my mind wasn't going to let me forget about it. He smiled and said confidently, "You're going to do great! It's shallow enough to touch!" and then sent me on my way.
I headed over and spotted a woman walking solo near me. I struck up a conversation with her and discovered it was her very first triathlon. There is nothing that will help calm your nerves faster than to get outside of your own head and encourage someone else. We talked through the course and I assured her that her training would get her through. The two of us met up with another group of ladies while standing around on the beach and soon we were all laughing and building each other up. Just one more reason I love this sport: complete strangers become friends quickly through the bond of the race. You all know what you put in to get to that point and everyone completely understands how nervous and excited you are to just get across that finish line. As with motherhood, there is a lot that is unspoken but understood in the club.
The race director made a few announcements, a local pastor said a prayer, and then the National Anthem played. Before I knew it, I was watching the mens' swim waves start. The director had explained earlier that if you were a seasoned triathlete and strong swimmer, you needed to stay to the right of the course. If, however, you were a new athlete or not a great swimmer, you were encouraged to stay to the left. As I watched wave after wave go, I realized that the middle was wide open. Hmmmm...I think I had just found my strategy.
I lined up at the back of my start wave, which was the women ages 35-39 group (in USTA sanctioned events, your age group is based on what age you will turn on December 31st of that calendar year. For me this would mean a pretty big disadvantage because my birthday isn't until December 30th. However, since it put me in the bottom age of the next bracket, it probably helped me.) Anyway, I stood near the back and tried to slow my breathing while I heard them count down 3, 2, 1...
We were off. I stayed in the middle and swam slow. As I'd learned during my one open water practice swim in Lanier, I do not care for open water swims. For one thing, you can't see at all. For another, you don't get that 2-3 second break at the end of each lane to put your feet down and catch your breath as you dunk under the rope to the next lane. (For a third thing, did y'all know fish live in lakes?! BIG fish. And all you can do is pray you don't get nibbled on by one.)
I paced myself and found the right balance of concentration and distraction. You want to think about each stroke while simultaneously letting your mind wander a bit in an effort to avoid becoming terrified of what you're actually doing. Things were going swimmingly (HA!) until my googles got so fogged I was forced to pop up and try to rub them clear. As I reached to put my feet down, I realized I couldn't touch. "BUT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHALLOW ENOUGH TO TOUCH! I CAN'T TOUCH!!!" I panicked. For a split second, all I could think about was my struggle in the pool at my last race. Although in this one there was no side or rope to grab. Lifeguards were nearby, but what if they couldn't see me?!
Then almost as quickly as those thoughts entered my mind, they were replaced with "You're fine, Heather. You don't actually need to touch right now. Just put your goggles back on and keep swimming. Make your way closer to the shoreline if you need to, but you are in no real danger right now." I am positive that calming peace was because of the prayers my friends and family had said and were saying for me at that very moment. I pulled my goggles down and started back. I figured that if I got kicked in the face, I would know I got too close to someone else. And if I came to a super shallow part and looked up, I would see people getting out and know I was at the end.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before I saw people around me walking. Some of them started a good ways out from the exit, so I continued to swim and kept an eye on when to stop. I remember thinking, "Was that really it? I totally could've kept going!" (Thank you, Lord!) I got to the exit, stood up, and tried to clear the lake water from my eyes. As soon as I could see straight, I searched the cheering crowd along the shore for my crew. There they were! They clapped and yelled for me as I jogged up the hill to transition area. I rushed to dry my feet, put on my socks and shoes, and unrack my bike. I hustled it along to the bike exit, mounted it while holding a GU gel in my teeth, and pedaled off.
The bike route was fairly easy. It was a good bit shorter than my previous race, so I pushed myself to go a little faster than I normally do. I ended up passing quite a few people, which is a rarity for me. I guess in a race of that size, you have more people both ahead of and behind you. It was a little annoying to have to deal with passing so much (and don't get me wrong...being passed, too!) I am used to only having a few other cyclists near me on a course. At one point the course went down a steep hill with a sharp curve at the bottom. I saw that someone had wrecked and there was a group of 6-7 other cyclists that had stopped to help. Flying by at 20 mph, I decided I wouldn't have been able to add anything to their rescue and kept going. I came to find out later that the cyclist had hit a tree and actually passed away later that day from the impact. It was unbelievably sad and sobering.
As I rode back into the transition, David and the kids waved hello to me and snapped a few pictures. I racked my bike, clipped on my hydration belt, and took off for the run. My legs were their usual jello, but I knew if I could just get through that first mile they would cooperate. Though it was flat, the run was tough. There was a long stretch without a stitch of shade and it was HOT. I encouraged others as I ran by, probably annoying the crap out of them but it distracted me for a moment. I didn't have any music or podcasts, so you just have to play mind games with yourself to keep from quitting or going insane.
I grabbed a cup of water at the hydration station and dumped it over myself. There was finally some shaded woods up ahead and I willed myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until I got there. The quote "You don't train for a race so there won't be any pain during it. You train so that you can endure the pain" popped in my head. I started the usual bargaining I do with myself "Okay, Heather. You never, ever have to do one of these stupid awful races ever in your life again. Ever. BUT you have to finish this one."
At one point near the end, I got passed by someone. When this happens, it's natural to always look at their calf to see how old they are. This particular person happened to be a 13 year old boy. I thought to myself, "Are you really going to let yourself get passed by a 13 year old boy?!" And then I answered: "Yes. Yes you are. Because he's a 13 year old boy and, though some days you still think you are 18, you are now a 34 year old woman." And suddenly I became okay with him outrunning me.
I broke out of the woods and into the sunshine. Glancing at my Garmin watch, I knew I had to be getting close to the finish line. I tried to ramp it up a smidge as we went up a short hill. Coming down on the other side, I saw and heard the crowd. Finishers were lined up wearing their medals and cheering us on. I spotted David and the kids out of the corner of my eye as they got up to run over to the finish line. I heard David yell "GO HEATHER! GET 'ER DONE!!!" which was all I needed to sprint the last 100 yards across. I ducked my head as a volunteer put the finisher's medal over my neck. It was gorgeous...and it was hard earned.
Behind me I heard some commotion and realized someone had just proposed to his girlfriend as she came across the finish line. My first thought was "Aw! How sweet!" followed by "Good gravy, I hope she doesn't have a heart attack from being stopped and then shocked like that." I searched the crowd for my crew and heard David yelling for me. He and the kids hugged and congratulated me as we headed over to the pavilion for water and snacks. They had a ton of huge pizzas, but I couldn't quite stomach that so I got some fruit, Cerasport, and then a few minutes later, a cookie. We sat and talked about the race, but it wasn't long before I knew it was time to head back to the hotel. The kids were antsy and tired of just standing around.
Audrey helped me gather my gear and then Luke and David pushed the bike back to the van. We went to the hotel where I took a luxurious shower before we checked out and loaded up. We drove over to the bicycle rental place and I pointed out all of the trails where I'd biked just a while earlier.
After getting a short safety briefing, we climbed on our special duo-bikes (I have no idea what they're called. It's a regular bike with a long bar in the back that connects to an apparatus with another wheel, a set of pedals, and a child's seat.) I will be the first to confess that it was incredibly difficult for me to get the hang of this thing. My current road bike is lighter than Audrey's and I was obviously quite used to it. This huge monster was made of steel, which was very heavy and difficult to maneuver. Audrey braved it with me, though, and we took it VERY slow. (I may have actually walked the thing at several points.)
We got to the Butterfly House and went inside for what turned out to be an extremely quick visit. Ever been to the inland part of Florida or Georgia in August? Imagine that heat and oppressive humidity and then multiply it by about a hundred. Then add fire-breathing dragons. And some sauna steam for good measure. That was the inside of this butterfly exhibit. After our five minute tour (no joke), we actually stepped outside and felt chilled in the south Georgia heat, if that tells you anything. Of course it could have been our severe dehydration, but whatever it was, it felt delightful.
We rode back to the area where we rented bikes, this time pairing Luke with me and Audrey with David. (When I offered her the chance to switch, she jumped at it so fast that I laughed instead of being offended.) I was definitely studiER on the way back, though it still made me nervous enough to stop and put my feet down when other bikes passed us. David put the bikes in the rack and we went inside to the little cafe for lunch. I wish I could say the meal was better than what we'd had the night before but I am not a liar. We choked it down and then got back on our bikes to ride over to the chapel. It is such a gorgeous building tucked away in the peaceful woods with stained glass scenes of the four seasons along one side. A nice elderly lady that worked there encouraged us to come back for the organ "concert" in about 45 minutes and we politely nodded, knowing we'd probably choose to skip it in favor of air conditioning.
As we walked back to the bike rack, David was pushing for us to take a longer and more scenic route back. It was at this point that I reminded him, as my quads were reminding me, that I had indeed done a triathlon that morning and that I may be ready for a rest. I was about to suck it up and give in, though, until Luke piped up and said, "I have to go potty!" I know you're not supposed to have favorite children, but at the point, he kinda was mine. I mean, I was totally going to stick it out and ride farther, but Luke had to go!
We made it back to the nature center in time and David returned the bikes while I took the kids to the bathroom. After we were in the clear, we visited the gift shop and picked out a couple of t-shirts and our traditional travel tree ornament. When we felt sure we'd seen all that the Nature Center had to offer, we drove back over near the Butterfly House to walk the hydrangea garden that we'd missed earlier (probably due to our heat stroke daze.) There was also a pioneer-era cabin that we walked through. The kids were absolutely stunned that that was once someone's entire house. The placard on display explained that the family that originally lived there had 13 children. Good gravy. For sure that generation was made of stronger stuff than ours'.
It was nearing 3pm when we decided to call it a day and begin the drive back home. The kids did great on the trek back. Luke fell asleep for a few minutes, which wasn't surprising since they'd gotten up at 6am and had a full day of walking and pedaling. We got home just in time to order pizza for dinner, which tasted especially delicious after the weekend of crummy food we'd had. I can't remember what dessert I celebrated with that night, but I'm sure I had some and I'm sure it was tasty.
So that was it. Another triathlon in the books. I haven't decided yet whether it will be my last. I don't think so, but good grief it is hard to balance and extremely time consuming to train for three different sports, even when it's "just" a sprint distance. It also leaves me no time for weight training, which is a major contributor to both how I feel about my body and keeping my weight down. It sounds counterintuitive, but I've discovered that I'm always heavier when I'm training for tris or half marathons because A) I'm hungrier B) I think I deserve to eat whatever I want and C) my muscle tone, and therefore, my metabolism, is lower. So we'll see. For now my plan is to start lifting again and keep up a baseline of about a 10k run. I'll likely continue swimming at least once a week because it is so good for the body. Cycling, however, will probably be the thing that goes by the wayside for now. It's dangerous as well as inconvenient. It takes a lot of time to get to a safe course that offers long distances.
I don't know what race I'll sign up for next, but for now I'm going to sit back and enjoy the feeling of accomplishment. I trained for four months straight and missed less than five scheduled workouts that entire time. I dealt with near daily back pain towards the end (I believe from biking). I sacrificed a lot of time, logged a lot of miles, and said a lot of prayers ("Dear God, please send a breeze." "Dear God, please don't let that car hit me.") And most importantly, I didn't drown. Always a plus.
Here are a few pictures for your enjoyment from our weekend at Callaway:
We managed to find a parking spot and hauled my bike and gear to transition. I laid out all of my stuff and then went to get body marked and grab my chip timer. I walked back to transition to double and triple check that my stuff was in order before joining the growing line at the bathroom. I chatted with a few of the ladies near me, some of which had done the race before. I always like hearing their tips for the course, though sometimes they also throw in a tidbit that doesn't help my nerves at all ("Oh yeah. The run is killer." Greeeeeaaaaat.)
Before long it was time for me to walk the 1/4 mile over to the swim start. I said goodbye to the kids and got good luck hugs, but not before tearing up and whispering to David that I was super scared. My last swim on my previous tri a few weeks prior had been terrible, and my mind wasn't going to let me forget about it. He smiled and said confidently, "You're going to do great! It's shallow enough to touch!" and then sent me on my way.
I headed over and spotted a woman walking solo near me. I struck up a conversation with her and discovered it was her very first triathlon. There is nothing that will help calm your nerves faster than to get outside of your own head and encourage someone else. We talked through the course and I assured her that her training would get her through. The two of us met up with another group of ladies while standing around on the beach and soon we were all laughing and building each other up. Just one more reason I love this sport: complete strangers become friends quickly through the bond of the race. You all know what you put in to get to that point and everyone completely understands how nervous and excited you are to just get across that finish line. As with motherhood, there is a lot that is unspoken but understood in the club.
The race director made a few announcements, a local pastor said a prayer, and then the National Anthem played. Before I knew it, I was watching the mens' swim waves start. The director had explained earlier that if you were a seasoned triathlete and strong swimmer, you needed to stay to the right of the course. If, however, you were a new athlete or not a great swimmer, you were encouraged to stay to the left. As I watched wave after wave go, I realized that the middle was wide open. Hmmmm...I think I had just found my strategy.
I lined up at the back of my start wave, which was the women ages 35-39 group (in USTA sanctioned events, your age group is based on what age you will turn on December 31st of that calendar year. For me this would mean a pretty big disadvantage because my birthday isn't until December 30th. However, since it put me in the bottom age of the next bracket, it probably helped me.) Anyway, I stood near the back and tried to slow my breathing while I heard them count down 3, 2, 1...
We were off. I stayed in the middle and swam slow. As I'd learned during my one open water practice swim in Lanier, I do not care for open water swims. For one thing, you can't see at all. For another, you don't get that 2-3 second break at the end of each lane to put your feet down and catch your breath as you dunk under the rope to the next lane. (For a third thing, did y'all know fish live in lakes?! BIG fish. And all you can do is pray you don't get nibbled on by one.)
I paced myself and found the right balance of concentration and distraction. You want to think about each stroke while simultaneously letting your mind wander a bit in an effort to avoid becoming terrified of what you're actually doing. Things were going swimmingly (HA!) until my googles got so fogged I was forced to pop up and try to rub them clear. As I reached to put my feet down, I realized I couldn't touch. "BUT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHALLOW ENOUGH TO TOUCH! I CAN'T TOUCH!!!" I panicked. For a split second, all I could think about was my struggle in the pool at my last race. Although in this one there was no side or rope to grab. Lifeguards were nearby, but what if they couldn't see me?!
Then almost as quickly as those thoughts entered my mind, they were replaced with "You're fine, Heather. You don't actually need to touch right now. Just put your goggles back on and keep swimming. Make your way closer to the shoreline if you need to, but you are in no real danger right now." I am positive that calming peace was because of the prayers my friends and family had said and were saying for me at that very moment. I pulled my goggles down and started back. I figured that if I got kicked in the face, I would know I got too close to someone else. And if I came to a super shallow part and looked up, I would see people getting out and know I was at the end.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before I saw people around me walking. Some of them started a good ways out from the exit, so I continued to swim and kept an eye on when to stop. I remember thinking, "Was that really it? I totally could've kept going!" (Thank you, Lord!) I got to the exit, stood up, and tried to clear the lake water from my eyes. As soon as I could see straight, I searched the cheering crowd along the shore for my crew. There they were! They clapped and yelled for me as I jogged up the hill to transition area. I rushed to dry my feet, put on my socks and shoes, and unrack my bike. I hustled it along to the bike exit, mounted it while holding a GU gel in my teeth, and pedaled off.
The bike route was fairly easy. It was a good bit shorter than my previous race, so I pushed myself to go a little faster than I normally do. I ended up passing quite a few people, which is a rarity for me. I guess in a race of that size, you have more people both ahead of and behind you. It was a little annoying to have to deal with passing so much (and don't get me wrong...being passed, too!) I am used to only having a few other cyclists near me on a course. At one point the course went down a steep hill with a sharp curve at the bottom. I saw that someone had wrecked and there was a group of 6-7 other cyclists that had stopped to help. Flying by at 20 mph, I decided I wouldn't have been able to add anything to their rescue and kept going. I came to find out later that the cyclist had hit a tree and actually passed away later that day from the impact. It was unbelievably sad and sobering.
As I rode back into the transition, David and the kids waved hello to me and snapped a few pictures. I racked my bike, clipped on my hydration belt, and took off for the run. My legs were their usual jello, but I knew if I could just get through that first mile they would cooperate. Though it was flat, the run was tough. There was a long stretch without a stitch of shade and it was HOT. I encouraged others as I ran by, probably annoying the crap out of them but it distracted me for a moment. I didn't have any music or podcasts, so you just have to play mind games with yourself to keep from quitting or going insane.
I grabbed a cup of water at the hydration station and dumped it over myself. There was finally some shaded woods up ahead and I willed myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until I got there. The quote "You don't train for a race so there won't be any pain during it. You train so that you can endure the pain" popped in my head. I started the usual bargaining I do with myself "Okay, Heather. You never, ever have to do one of these stupid awful races ever in your life again. Ever. BUT you have to finish this one."
At one point near the end, I got passed by someone. When this happens, it's natural to always look at their calf to see how old they are. This particular person happened to be a 13 year old boy. I thought to myself, "Are you really going to let yourself get passed by a 13 year old boy?!" And then I answered: "Yes. Yes you are. Because he's a 13 year old boy and, though some days you still think you are 18, you are now a 34 year old woman." And suddenly I became okay with him outrunning me.
I broke out of the woods and into the sunshine. Glancing at my Garmin watch, I knew I had to be getting close to the finish line. I tried to ramp it up a smidge as we went up a short hill. Coming down on the other side, I saw and heard the crowd. Finishers were lined up wearing their medals and cheering us on. I spotted David and the kids out of the corner of my eye as they got up to run over to the finish line. I heard David yell "GO HEATHER! GET 'ER DONE!!!" which was all I needed to sprint the last 100 yards across. I ducked my head as a volunteer put the finisher's medal over my neck. It was gorgeous...and it was hard earned.
Behind me I heard some commotion and realized someone had just proposed to his girlfriend as she came across the finish line. My first thought was "Aw! How sweet!" followed by "Good gravy, I hope she doesn't have a heart attack from being stopped and then shocked like that." I searched the crowd for my crew and heard David yelling for me. He and the kids hugged and congratulated me as we headed over to the pavilion for water and snacks. They had a ton of huge pizzas, but I couldn't quite stomach that so I got some fruit, Cerasport, and then a few minutes later, a cookie. We sat and talked about the race, but it wasn't long before I knew it was time to head back to the hotel. The kids were antsy and tired of just standing around.
Audrey helped me gather my gear and then Luke and David pushed the bike back to the van. We went to the hotel where I took a luxurious shower before we checked out and loaded up. We drove over to the bicycle rental place and I pointed out all of the trails where I'd biked just a while earlier.
After getting a short safety briefing, we climbed on our special duo-bikes (I have no idea what they're called. It's a regular bike with a long bar in the back that connects to an apparatus with another wheel, a set of pedals, and a child's seat.) I will be the first to confess that it was incredibly difficult for me to get the hang of this thing. My current road bike is lighter than Audrey's and I was obviously quite used to it. This huge monster was made of steel, which was very heavy and difficult to maneuver. Audrey braved it with me, though, and we took it VERY slow. (I may have actually walked the thing at several points.)
We got to the Butterfly House and went inside for what turned out to be an extremely quick visit. Ever been to the inland part of Florida or Georgia in August? Imagine that heat and oppressive humidity and then multiply it by about a hundred. Then add fire-breathing dragons. And some sauna steam for good measure. That was the inside of this butterfly exhibit. After our five minute tour (no joke), we actually stepped outside and felt chilled in the south Georgia heat, if that tells you anything. Of course it could have been our severe dehydration, but whatever it was, it felt delightful.
We rode back to the area where we rented bikes, this time pairing Luke with me and Audrey with David. (When I offered her the chance to switch, she jumped at it so fast that I laughed instead of being offended.) I was definitely studiER on the way back, though it still made me nervous enough to stop and put my feet down when other bikes passed us. David put the bikes in the rack and we went inside to the little cafe for lunch. I wish I could say the meal was better than what we'd had the night before but I am not a liar. We choked it down and then got back on our bikes to ride over to the chapel. It is such a gorgeous building tucked away in the peaceful woods with stained glass scenes of the four seasons along one side. A nice elderly lady that worked there encouraged us to come back for the organ "concert" in about 45 minutes and we politely nodded, knowing we'd probably choose to skip it in favor of air conditioning.
As we walked back to the bike rack, David was pushing for us to take a longer and more scenic route back. It was at this point that I reminded him, as my quads were reminding me, that I had indeed done a triathlon that morning and that I may be ready for a rest. I was about to suck it up and give in, though, until Luke piped up and said, "I have to go potty!" I know you're not supposed to have favorite children, but at the point, he kinda was mine. I mean, I was totally going to stick it out and ride farther, but Luke had to go!
We made it back to the nature center in time and David returned the bikes while I took the kids to the bathroom. After we were in the clear, we visited the gift shop and picked out a couple of t-shirts and our traditional travel tree ornament. When we felt sure we'd seen all that the Nature Center had to offer, we drove back over near the Butterfly House to walk the hydrangea garden that we'd missed earlier (probably due to our heat stroke daze.) There was also a pioneer-era cabin that we walked through. The kids were absolutely stunned that that was once someone's entire house. The placard on display explained that the family that originally lived there had 13 children. Good gravy. For sure that generation was made of stronger stuff than ours'.
It was nearing 3pm when we decided to call it a day and begin the drive back home. The kids did great on the trek back. Luke fell asleep for a few minutes, which wasn't surprising since they'd gotten up at 6am and had a full day of walking and pedaling. We got home just in time to order pizza for dinner, which tasted especially delicious after the weekend of crummy food we'd had. I can't remember what dessert I celebrated with that night, but I'm sure I had some and I'm sure it was tasty.
So that was it. Another triathlon in the books. I haven't decided yet whether it will be my last. I don't think so, but good grief it is hard to balance and extremely time consuming to train for three different sports, even when it's "just" a sprint distance. It also leaves me no time for weight training, which is a major contributor to both how I feel about my body and keeping my weight down. It sounds counterintuitive, but I've discovered that I'm always heavier when I'm training for tris or half marathons because A) I'm hungrier B) I think I deserve to eat whatever I want and C) my muscle tone, and therefore, my metabolism, is lower. So we'll see. For now my plan is to start lifting again and keep up a baseline of about a 10k run. I'll likely continue swimming at least once a week because it is so good for the body. Cycling, however, will probably be the thing that goes by the wayside for now. It's dangerous as well as inconvenient. It takes a lot of time to get to a safe course that offers long distances.
I don't know what race I'll sign up for next, but for now I'm going to sit back and enjoy the feeling of accomplishment. I trained for four months straight and missed less than five scheduled workouts that entire time. I dealt with near daily back pain towards the end (I believe from biking). I sacrificed a lot of time, logged a lot of miles, and said a lot of prayers ("Dear God, please send a breeze." "Dear God, please don't let that car hit me.") And most importantly, I didn't drown. Always a plus.
Here are a few pictures for your enjoyment from our weekend at Callaway:
Audrey and Luke in the big Callaway Chair on Robin Lake Beach
Audrey and Luke in Robin Lake
The acrobatic show put on by FSU students
David took this shot of all of us lined up for the swim start. That's a lot of folks!
Trying to clear my eyes after the swim...
or just in deep prayer thanking God for letting me live.
Feeling pretty good as I headed out for the run
Crossing the finish line. It never gets old!
After the race with my best cheerleaders
This picture means the world to me. There is no way I could do any of my races without the
support and patience of this crew. They sacrifice time, sleep, and comfort to
endure my workout and race schedule and I do not take it for granted.
You know what's fun after a triathlon? More bike riding!
At least I had a little help pedaling this time!
Outside of the Butterfly House. Because standing inside in that heat for even
one more minute was not an option.
Stained glass art of the four seasons inside the Callaway Gardens chapel.
Inside the pioneer-era cabin
My beauties among the beautiful hydrangeas
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