A very special episode of "Where are they now..."

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. This post is waaaaaay long over due. I am aware. Thank you.

While I may have been shirking my blogging responsibilities I have not, in fact, been stepping out on training. So let me give you a bit of an update.

February sucked.

Yep, it did. Vacation was fabulous. I soaked up the garish entertainment of Las Vegas, basked in the sun while spending time with family in Phoenix. Got to experience the word "awesome" but stopping in between the two at the Grand Canyon.

We even brought some of the sunny warm weather back to cold, dreary Iowa.

Our first Saturday back took us on a bike ride up to the local bike shop to start thinking about getting me wheels. Unfortunately it also brought on a sinus infection, at least that's how I see it. As a result, I lost a good portion of February's training to illness.

I did however purchase those wheels that I had been contemplating. A shiny, fabulous Motobecane Fantom Cross Pro.

It's fabulous.

Unfortunately the weather was not and it was a couple of weeks before I could even get my first ride in. I have mastered the shifters. Mostly. With advice from various friends, I am getting better at climbing hills. It's amazing the difference a well fitted, light bike can make. I've even made the 8.5 mile (one-way) trip to my work a couple of times. (Okay, so only once was on an actual work day.)

When the weather cooperates I now bike the 3 miles to the Y on Saturday mornings for my swim.

Swimming has progressed. It amazes me how far I've come since the beginning of November. It's still a challenge. I still struggle with my breathing, but endurance... it's getting there.

I've added in a highly butchered version of the breast stroke into my workouts. The morning after my first breast-stroke workout I felt like I had steel bands wrapped around my chest and arms. With any luck I'll get a better grasp of this stroke and learn to love it as much as I love the backstroke. Can you say, "Bye-bye Grandma arms?" Well, that may be my unrealistic hope, but it's mine none the less and I will continue under this delusion until someone proves me wrong.

I have been internally debating the merits of a wet suit lately. Buoyancy is a factor. It'll actually help me from getting as tired during the swim. And the fact that I'm pretty sure the water is going to still be pretty chilly in 26 days is kind of important too.

As I was packing up my gear to head to the Y on Saturday, I mentioned this to my husband. He kindly informed me that he had a too small wetsuit in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

Huh? What?

How have I been with him for almost 14 years, married to him for almost 6 and not know that he had a wetsuit? This seems like something that should be known about the main person in your life. Sort of like, do they perfer the roll of toilet paper to go over or under? Do they squeeze the toothpaste from the top of the bottom? Do they secretly like disco?

I didn't have time to question him further as I was already running late for swim. So I hopped on the bike and hit the road, all the while pondering the strength of our marriage.

Post swim, I tried my first transition. It was not graceful and led to another question to ponder...what if I have to go to the bathroom? I know that there will be port-a-potties and that there's a "bathroom" about 3/4 of a mile into the bike and run legs. By "bathroom" I mean pit toilet that grossed me out and made me seriously reconsider the need to go. But I have a feeling that I'm just going to have to hold it.

I digress...

I made my first transition, throwing on tri shorts and a bike top over my wet swimsuit, jamming on my socks and running shoes and making a dash for the bike locked up outside and my waiting.

We made an easy 11 mile loop before returning to the Y where I hopped off my bike, locked it up quickly and made a dash back into the building and up the stairs where the track waited for quick 1.5 mile run.

My loving husband was waiting for me with the car to take me home to meet his dresser drawer and the awaiting wetsuit.

27 days and counting...