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Racing for booze




I survived my first triathlon in three years. I laughed, I cried, I puked. Kidding. I didn't laugh or cry. However, I did throw up after crossing the finish line. Hate sprints.

The swim was great, the bike was good and the run simply sucked. Out of 125 short course female racers, I was 2nd on the swim, 2nd on the bike and...wait for it... 17th on the run. No big secret what I need to work on. Final placement was 4th overall and 2nd in my age group, though I was awarded first since the overall winner was in my age group. (Love how that works.) Prizes were specially labeled bottles of wine from Les Bourgeios Winery.

Last week I was motivationally deficient. I whined to Boyfriend (and anyone else who would listen) about how I didn't want to race. At all. For the rest of the summer. I was ready to retreat to yoga-world and put Axel (my bike) on Craigslist. But Boyfriend appealed to my frugality, pointing out I'd already paid for the race, so may as well do it. I conceded.

Nothing like spending a morning with sweaty, intense type A's to suck you back into racing. But it did. I'm pleased with my results, but anxious to improve. So looks like Axel has received a stay of execution. Lucky bike.


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