My second triathlon was yesterday. Thankfully, Henry's consistency with waking up at 4:55 AM is spot on, because otherwise I would have missed the race since my alarm clock malfunctioned.
(If you can consider having the volume turned down too low a legitimate malfunction).
While I sat on the couch nursing him, I kept thinking HOW NICE it would be to go back to bed. It was pitch dark and cold. Yet because I had already blogged about how I was going to participate in this race, I felt compelled to do it. Darn that computer and my conscience.
Once I arrived at the race, I unloaded my bicycle and made my way over to the transition area to join 1,000 other women who had also climbed out of their warm beds and were questioning aloud WHY they were doing this, again. I kept checking my watch and was surprised that at 6:40 AM, there was still no sign of the sun. It seems that the only thing less appealing than jumping in to 62-degree water, is jumping in to 62-degree water in the dark.
Fortunately, by the time my "wave" started, the sun was poking through the dense marine layer and it was high tide. I could just make out the buoys that I needed to swim to, and could see the bike route that I had to ride twice, and the run loop that I had to complete once.
Or was it one and two?
Once again, I felt anxious when I looked around and noticed that I was standing in a literal sea of fit women who looked like they could be gracing the cover of a sports magazine. Just as I was starting to doubt my physical ability and wondering why I keep pushing myself to do these grandiose events - I saw that the woman standing directly in front of me, had her wetsuit on inside out.
All of the tags were facing out. The zipper was on the inside of the suit and there was even a little patch across the bum that read "this side in". Just then, she turned and asked me, "Do you have any idea where we are supposed to go?"
Oh, the relief to know that I'm not the only clueless one!
Although I'm not sure of my exact time, I'm fairly certain I made better time than I did during my first triathlon that I had actually prepared for. My transition this time around was a little slower, but unlike my first race, this time I got to experience the excitement of fumbling with a wet suit and in the process, knocking over 10 bicycles in the transition area.
The most notable event during the race was when I saw Charlie and the children during my bike ride. He woke everyone up at 6:30 AM, loaded them in to the car, gave them juice boxes and cinnamon rolls, and found a spot to set up a blanket on the course so that he would see me twice on the ride and once on the run.
It was so great to see my family. I'm already thinking about the awesome relay team I should be able to pull together within the next five years.
In other news.
To Red Sox Nation: I had been holding out hope that perhaps the Red Sox flag that I had flying at the front of our house would be enough to pull them through this year, but alas, it does in fact seem that winning the World Series Championship is entirely dependant upon my ability to reproduce. It's no mystery. 2004 = the triplets were born. 2007 = Henry. When I told Charlie that we needed to have a fifth in order to clinch the Championship again, he looked at me perplexed and asked, "A fifth of what?! BOURBON, I hope!!"
Sure Charlie. Maybe the bourbon will come first...