I found some photos from marathonphoto of Grandmas. The first one is me around 6 miles. Notice how I still have good form and my pinkies are extended out with proper etiquette and everything?
I like to call this next one "Tenacity". I love that word. I think this was on the way up the bridge hill around mile 9. I was thinking - NO CHANCE I am walking this thing. You can walk at the top. Absolutely no other option. Or I was thinking "Ew gross, don't step on that dead bird".
And finally, the finish. That confused look on my face is me wondering what the hell just happened. The words 'hit by a truck' come to mind. I was already trying to forget the race and seek out my Great Harvest race rolls - which they didn't have. 
Tomorrow for the Triathlon there will be nothing but smiles. All I'm demanding tomorrow is everything I've got. Nothing more. I don't want to give more than I've got; the results of doing that...well we all know how that ends. I'm going to write my times from last year on my hand so I know what I have to do. Who know how I will be able to perform, but I've already visualized the results and in my mind, I'm happy. And Grandma's will be but a distant memory of a day that opened the door for my glorious comeback.
No comments:
Post a Comment