In a word: wow.
Even better was how easy today's workout was. Which is ironic, because had I done four months ago what I did today, I would have been doubled over in agony at the end of it.
All I did was run 3.5 miles. Yep. That's "all." It's good, feeling like that now and reminiscing, oh so fondly, about the first few workouts, the days of pudgy bellies and nightly beers and heads full of hair. Now my stomach is, to quote my beautiful, amazing and so smart wife, "flatter than I've ever seen it," I pretty much never drink beer anymore (or anything, really, other than water and Gatorade. And Mountain Dew. Gotta have Mountain Dew.) and I've long since returned to the buzz cut.
(From the buzz cut I'll likely never return, either. I'm going bald. For real. It's bad when a buzz cut even looks thin. Definitely going to shave it slick in a couple weeks, too. Oh yeah. Mr. Clean.)
Anyway, later this morning I rode the Wilmington Athletic Club bike course once with Brian so I could, you know, know where I'm supposed to be riding on Sunday. I know they'll have things lined out and people pointing me the right direction and all that jazz, but I figured it would probably be a decent idea to at least see the course once.
It's a two-lap ordeal, 5.75 miles each, roughly guessing. Then we rode the 5K route, which is an out-and-back. It's going to be a beautiful, beautiful course on which to race my first triathlon. Neither Brian nor I could believe there remained over 100 open slots.
So now it's simply a matter of resting up, stretching, eating well, getting two good nights' sleep and convincing Katie to give me a couple of full-body massages.
I know I said lots of things about a few goals, but honestly, I'm planning mostly to go out there and enjoy myself. I'm going to push my hardest, but I'm going to have fun doing it. I stressed out way too much about baseball back during my college career, and it ruined a lot of the fun I could have had. I'm won't let stress and anxiety and fear rob me of fun anymore, and that starts with this.
Rock on. If you're not racing it too, come on out and watch. Every transition goes through the WAC parking lot, so you get to see lots of us frantically scrambling from pool to bike and from bike to feet.
And if you are racing it, then, well, be prepared to eat my dust. Muahahahaha.
Yeah. Just kidding. Be nice to me. I'm a rookie.