My Crazy Turkey Day Pledge...

All I can say is that I was under the influence of turkey and stuffing. Because I can think of no other reason for doing what I did...

The kids were happy with their full belly's and promise of pie to come so I was actually able to participate in some post meal conversation. My sister and husband's voices drifted down to my end of the table.

"Okay, why did you sign up for the Olympic Triathlon in Galveston, I thought we were doing the Sprint?" WB asks.

"Well, I'm doing a sprint the month before and thought it would be good warm-up for the one in Galveston. And besides my competitive nature came out when I found out my friend was doing the half ironman", this from my sister.

And little old me at the end of the table is thinking they are both sort of neurotic. WB with his knee problems and my sister who just recovered from a stress fracture in her foot that had her off her feet for quite some time. Really some people just get carried away, this thought is running through my head as I listen to them debate back and forth. I point out neither one of them should be running. The swimming and biking are fine, but not the running with their injuries.

"We can do the rely, just need someone to do the running leg I guess." WB says, thinking out loud. Good idea, I think...someone else should do the running.

And here's where I make a tragic mistake. You see I have a flaw. I always feel the need to help people out. Okay, so sometimes it's a good thing, but other times it gets me in a whole mess of trouble. On this occasion it got me into running.

First let me explain something, I hate to run. No, actually I despise it. I was the cross country manager in high school and I drove my car around to help wayward runners or on occasion rode a bike along with the runners. I did this because I greatly admire runners, their dedication, their endurance, their ability. And I know my limits. Running up and down the basketball court was more than enough running for me in my short-lived high school career.

And here's something else, I've never probably ever run even a mile at one time much less 3.2 or whatever the heck I'm supposed to run for this triathlon. I run after my wayward child in the grocery and that is it, period!!

So there I was drunk on turkey and stuffing and the words tumbled out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. Next thing I know my sister is printing up my training schedule, which is titled from couch to triathlon...I'm thinking it should read from couch potato to triathlon. It gives me exactly 4 months to train for this event...like four months to the day. The day after Thanksgiving I find myself sprinting around a very packed Academy as my sister fits me for some running shoes. I kept the sprints short so I wouldn't get winded in front of the crowd of shoppers, I do have my pride after all. Instead of a day of shopping for clothes for my birthday, I instead shopped for the running gear I would need. Happy Birthday to Me...just that phrase invokes memories of a terrible slasher, horror movie I saw in my teenage years, but the image was so appropriate.

My sister and I after day one. I walked 25 minutes, she ran for 40.
I do have a confession to make here, I'm digging the outfit. I mean when I put on my ultra-sleek running tights, top, shiny new shoes, topped off with my cute little pink hat I feel powerful. Much more powerful than I am, but still. I feel like an athlete, I feel fast, I feel like I might actually be able to do this...then I go for my first run. Well, actually I walk for the first month, but even that hurts. It has been a long time since I have power walked for 25 minutes in the freezing temperatures. The memories come flooding back as to why I hate this type of exercise, especially when my sides begin to ache and my joints remind me of my arthritis. Okay, so I only have mild arthritis in my hands, but I swear the rest of my body is about to follow suite. But amazingly at the end of my walk I'm feeling pretty good. The next day WB gets out the double jogging stroller and I take Little One for my walk. Funny how pushing a stroller adds a whole new element of challenge to my quest, not to mention the hills we are surrounded by.

So today is day three, and I've got to say it is sort of addicting in a way. Of course, I haven't actually started running yet, just walking. I know the running will kick my hiney, and I'm fully prepared for that. I know that if I don't stick to my training my sister will kick my hiney even harder, so I have some motivation. Really , she gets a little competitive, no idea where that comes from.

So join me in the next four months as I share with you my ups and downs of this little journey. Feel free to chime in with some of your own experiences. I'll need all the help I can get!!