Team Tri MOTR
Here we are. Shaun, the swimmiest swimmer of all the swimmers in the freaking horribly cold lake, Kristen, the bikiest biker of all the bikers battling the brutal wind on 109th, and me. I showed up with my running shoes.
I love them. They, along with some other stellar friends and family members, have gotten me through the toughest crap life has thrown at me yet and celebrated a few of my most beautiful moments made all the more special because they were standing next to me. Everyone should have people like this in their life, rooting for them when they think life's too hard and toasting them when they know life is really, ridiculously fabulous. I thank God and all my lucky stars for them many times each week.
Shaun swam in 51 degree water and had the 24 hour brain freeze to prove it. Take that, Michael Phelps! Kristen battled some wicked wind on her sweet new bike, Charlie. I ran 3.5 miles where I felt kind of sick starting at mile 0.1 because I apparently have forgotten how to fuel for a morning race. Note to self: one piece of toast and a banana 2 1/2 hours before the race doesn't cut it. But we all did our thing and cheered each other on and screamed like fools and hugged because it was really, tremendously fun. Made all the more fun because of the people I was sharing it with. They rock.
Unfortunately I didn't have a ton of time to celebrate the momentous occasion of all of us being healthy and not-pregnant at the same time and long enough to finish a race because I crossed the finish line and kept right on running to my car to get to Isaac and Audrey's piano recital. We'll definitely celebrate soon, probably over a mojito, definitely on a deck.
Later in the day I was sitting on the floor with Asher, probably getting slobbered and crawled upon, when my hand brushed against my knee. I felt the scar that marks my torn ACL and subsequent knee surgery. I had surgery two years ago and missed the entire running season, which seemed like an eternity at the time. I spent a lot of time wondering if I'd ever run again and if I would go stark raving mad without having running as an outlet.
Now, unless my hand brushes against it or I see the scar in the mirror, I usually forget it even happened. When I do remember that it happened, it is a reminder that I'm tougher than I thought I was. That my baseline level of bad ass is higher than I first suspected. That my friends and family will absolutely step up and help me when I'm at my very weakest. Sure wish I could have come to those conclusions without shredding my knee, but I'll take the lessons.
So, you see, Saturday rocked. It was a big ol' hearty celebration of fantastic friends, fitness, overcoming obstacles, and smiling through the muck of life.
I'm tucking that special day in my back pocket to remember for always.
It's Tuesday. I know. I'm late to the party, but how was your weekend? Or what are you looking forward to on this long (hoooorrraaaayyyy!) Memorial Day weekend?