Still 'recovering'...

After fully recovering (a.k.a. not exercising and flitting around the world) for the past four weeks, I'm sifting through the mostly blurry photos my dad took in Florida. I cannot emphasize enough that no one...I do mean NO ONE...looks great while they're doing a triathlon. So if getting sweaty isn't your thing, stick to the Perrier and pilates. Otherwise, join the fun!

Direct to mail...

Throughout my triathlon and fundraising, I've reserved most of my personal story about my grandma to this blog. But it seems the people who've been following my journey passed it along to The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
Just before I left for Florida, a woman in advertising at the society sent me an e-mail. It seems my story is coming direct to your mailbox!
So watch for the mailman in coming months. You never know when I might pop up in a brochure for Team in Training!

Yikes!

Multiple myeloma is not a forgiving cancer.
My grandma just was released from the hospital after her potassium dipped to dangerously low levels a few days ago. But she sounds better. A bit shaken up, but back on the farm ready to eat something better than the "cardboard cutouts" they feed her in the hospital.

Nearly cancelled!

The rumors were true about the waves in Tampa Bay. Up to four-feet swells nearly killed one woman. And in retrospect, officials said the race should have been cancelled.
But we swam anyways, and lived to tell about it.

After the race, there's an AFTER PARTY!

Let it be known, I was well-deserving of the alcoholic beverages I consumed on top of the pier. Without them, I may never have been able to dance for four hours to a bizarre, but entertaining, deejay. And hell, I finished with a time of 3 hours and 5 minutes; second female finisher in the National Capital Area TNT bunch! All those Coronas were my little reward. And as you can see from these pictures, my teammates rewarded themselves in much the same way.
This morning...I realized my aching body is probably more a result of the dancing than the triathlon. But I don't care. I had a blast shakin' my ass!

Racing to the finish...

Once I ditched all the cumbersome equipment from the bike ride, I was ready to roll. Like everyone who hops off a long bike ride, by legs took a few minutes to adjust to the run. So the first mile was probably 10 minute pace. But after that, I set into cruise mode.
No one passed me the whole run. And with about a half mile to go, I forced my fatigued legs to pick it up for a strong finish. The whole run took me around 50 minutes. Not quite the pace I did in college. But pretty good, no less.

Off to battle the wind...

Yes...I am tired. The swim cap came off and I was about to stagger into the transition area to strap on my helmet and camelback. The winds were halting on stretches of the flat 25-mile course. But after about an hour and 30 minutes of people pedalling past me, I was ready to ditch the bike. It was time for my specialty: running.

Three foot waves...

It's true. Tampa Bay was not a pretty site at 9 a.m. Rumor has it the race officials nearly called off the swim. And more than 100 of the 4,000 triathletes were pulled from the water.
But how did I do? Very well, thank you! In roughly 33 minutes I zig zagged my way around bright orange bouys.

13 hours 'til start!

Tampa Bay was brutal today. The wind and waves were so bad I couldn't see the buoys 100 meters away. But my bike is on the rack, and I've filled my stomach with pasta. So in 13 hours, the horn will blow and I will run into the water!
Since I've been in St. Pete, herded from event to event, I've developed a stellar sunburn across my back. Racer back-stripes and all. The race check-in even doled out a cold Michelob beer to all participants.
The highlight, though, will be tomorrow night. Yes, that's correct. AFTER the race. I'll be lured to the finish line by anticipation for a night at Cha Cha Coconuts.
Seriously, though. Shots of vodka are not my motivation for finishing. My grandma is. And yesterday I talked with her on the phone.
After five rounds of chemo and a stem cell transplant, she's doing well. At least as well as one can be after enduring far more than I will tomorrow. In fact she said she's feeling the best she's felt since her extended stay in St. Louis. I told her it must be because I'm in Florida. She agreed.
But the real reason she's feeling better isn't me. It's her. She's the toughest, most determined woman I've ever known. So tomorrow, when I'm pummeled with exhaustion, I'll think of her and push through the discomfort. Tomorrow is for my grandma.

To the airport...

My eyes are only half open as I write. My little alarm is beeping again. I'd much rather sleep. But some genius at United made the best-priced airfare to St. Pete leave at 9 a.m.
But I'm packed....I hope. And ready to jet. [Yawn]
More later when I can actually see the computer screen.

Stay hydrated...

About five years ago, I made the mistake of not drinking enough fluids before racing around Scottsdale, Ariz., in 110 degree dry heat. After a 5km struggle, I collapsed at the finish line suffering from heat exhaustation. I was rather hysterical. Had a splitting headache. Couldn't see clearly. It was awful.
St. Petersburg, Fla., is not 110, but 85 is still jarring when coupled with humidity. So all week I'm on a strict fluid intake regimen. This means lots of water. LOTS of water. I will be striding through the finish line...not falling across it.
Five days!