The Goad Life

We hadn't decided until just a few weeks ago to put Ellie into preschool. Jack did not go when he was 3 but after having Max and realizing just how itchy Ellie was to get out, we went ahead with it. She has the same teachers Jack did last year and so he has spent the first half of the week prepping E for all she's going to do and learn not to mention all the rules.

I was a little nervous how she would since she cried twice going into church last week.

No worries. She was awesome and didn't look back.

When I picked her up and asked her to tell me about it,

she said "can I just tell you later Mom? I'm tired."

Within moments of leaving the parking lot she was asleep...on our way to pick up Jack.

When taking her picture E insisted on only putting her bag on one shoulder.

She is so stinkin' stubborn

...and goofy

very excited for her Cinderella folder...

What part of move the folder down don't you understand?

The past few years I have fallen in love with triathlons!

This would have been my 3rd year racing, but you can see how Maxwell created a problem for that.

Josh has been running long distance races and talked about doing the tri sometime...

I told him well this is the year cause I'm back at it next time and with 3 kids in tow we both can't train.

So here it is, Josh and my brother - the XY edition...I'll let him tell his story:

This was my year for the triathlon and I was pretty excited to do it. My brother in law, Dan, and I swam together twice a week for the last 10 weeks, we ran 2-3 times per week, biked 1-2 times per week, and generally exercised like mad men. Going into the race, I felt supremely confident in the swim and the run, concerned with the bike (probably my least-trained on activity). Enter: Saturday morning...

Hello humble pie! My confidence in the swim was drowned (almost literally) within 5 seconds of the start of the race. I was expecting to be able to get into a rhythm, let a few people get past me and then settle into my freestyle stroke with my face in the water. I think some combination of nervousness, the sheer amount of humanity closing in on me, the chill of the water, and the fact that I could die if I got pushed under the water led me to have what felt like a panic attack. I was unable to breathe comfortably, couldn't get my face in the water, and became the most-hydrated racer in the field (wave after wave washed over me...all, incidentally, during the exact moments I was attempting to breathe in). My 10 weeks of training went out the window and I swam a combination of breast stroke and floating on my back and kicking my legs. What I expected to swim in 14 or 15 minutes ended up taking me 22 minutes. My self-speak in the water involved a number of expletives and wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into. The good news about a triathlon is that it doesn't end with a swim. When my interminable water adventure ended, I got to the boat ramp and was running like an angry man on a mission.

I made my way to my bike, took my GU, took a sip of water and took off to attack the bike...except a freaking race official asked me to stop moving and buckle my helmet. If I could have punched him in the face and finished the race, I probably would have. Regardless, my transition was pretty quick and I ended up getting on the bike and pumping like I have never pumped before. I found myself with a group of guys in my heat (hard to believe I was with guys in my heat after that swim), these guys were fit and bikers, I was a little intimidated...until I realized that I was as fast as them. I ended up staying with and passing (and being passed back) by these guys for the duration of the ride. I had no idea how long it was taking me (thanks to my swim nervousness, I forgot to start my watch), but felt like I was moving pretty good. My strength was in the uphills (thank you 3 mile and Knapp) and I ended up finishing the bike in 51 minutes (about 5-6 minutes faster than I expected).

After another quick transition, the run was on. This ended up being easier than I thought and I enjoyed the camaraderie of the runs through the neighborhoods and all of the encouragement from the volunteers. As runners passed me and I passed runners, there were many words of encouragement shared. When I hit 2 miles to go, I had quite a bit in the tank and turned it up a little bit. I hoped for an 8:15-8:30 mile pace and ended up around 7:55/mile.

It was great to have tons of support at the finish and the adrenaline carried me for at least 2 more hours, until I crashed in a nap around 1:30 and then woke up to aches and pains everywhere. Would I do it again? Yes. Would I do anything differently? Only if I could convince 15 angry men to try to drown me as I swam across a lake instead of training in a pool. Do I respect my wife for her performance in her triathlons? Definitely. She is the queen.

My final stats:

1/2 mile swim - 21:35

17 mile bike - 51:25

4.9 mile run - 38:46

final time (with transitions) - 1:56:58