In just two more sleeps, I will be waking up (assuming I actually calm the heck down enough to fall asleep) early and heading to my very first triathlon!
It is actually happening.
I knew a few weeks ago, when I registered, that chances were high that I would actually get to this point, but a teensy tiny part of me was still in denial.
The months and months of swimming almost every day, the running even more, and the biking...well...I have at least done a few bike rides, including learning to ride with the clip-less pedals.
|Pretending to swim on an earlier open-water practice|
This Saturday I will voluntarily run down the beach into the water in a crowd of other age-groupers. I will get kicked in the head. I will get water up my nose. I will (probably) pee in my borrowed wetsuit (sorry, Tara). I will leave the water and run up the huge grassy hill to transition (hopefully without falling--there will probably be people there with cameras).
I will struggle out of the wetsuit, and struggle into my clippy bike shoes. I will feel the breeze in my face while heading out on my bike, pedalling as fast as I can.
I will go into the run portion with jelly-legs and hopefully finish strong.
It will be over.
Hopefully my heart rate will go down sometime after that.
I am so pumped and excited for this experience. I am a touch scared that I will love it...as my good friend running will become more jealous of my growing relationship with these other endurance sports, but what can I say? If they give out medals, I may just be hooked.
Wish me luck...I'm hoping for good weather at least!