This past Friday morning I was scrolling though my Facebook newsfeed and came upon this little nugget:
The second I saw it I knew that I would be registering too. And I do mean the second. There was no way in hell that I was going to let my pal do this event without me. She and I have run a lot of races together and done a few cycling events, and though we have talked about triathlons, I have never really had the desire to do one. I’m a terrible swimmer and afraid of any water that goes above my head.
Enter Sarah’s mother, Gail Roper, a 1952 Olympic swimmer who has volunteered to help me train. Now I’m getting excited. I’ve been gearing up to get into better shape after a year of mostly slacking, and though training for a triathlon wasn’t the plan, it’ll do. And then some.
So here you have it. At the age of 55, I am going to swim 1.2 miles, then I’m going to jump on my bike and ride 56 miles, and then I’m going to swap out the bike for my running shoes and finish with a half marathon.
Mostly I’m excited about writing my number on my legs and arms with a Sharpie.