One month ago I was in Parker, Arizona having dinner with my Team In Training teammates on the eve of the Bluewater Triathlon. It was the first triathlon for many of us in the room and I for one could feel the butterflies in my stomach as I picked at the pasta and salad on the plate in front of me. Up until that point, for me, the triathlon was dedicated to my aunt Leslie Whitfield, who lost a 19-year battle to breast cancer in February of 2011.
To everyone who wished me well, donated to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and otherwise supported me in my first triathlon — Tri for Les 2011: Bluewater — please accept my sincere gratitude.
Twenty minutes before the start of the Bluewater Triathlon someone asked me, “So, what’s your strategy?”
Barefoot, jittery, cold and nervous, I thought about it for a second, and proceeded to swing my arms around to loosen up.
“Dominate,” I said with a smirk. “And pass on the left.”
It’s early in the morning and still dark out. The alarm on the other side of my bedroom buzzed me awake and I’ve just silenced it by slamming my fingers on the snooze button. It’s quiet. Nobody is watching and I’m standing alone and dreary in the dark, with a crucial decision to make:
Do I listen to my tired body and stumble back to my soft bed for another hour of sleep?
Or do I throw on some clothes, take a drink of water and get the day started with a workout?
The battle ensues.