Sometimes you say fuck.

Let me start with Hi.

It's been a while.

I have been flirting with the idea of coming back to writing for a few weeks now

I would feel something brewing

(not a poop)

then I would lose the little thought bubble that had been floating over my head

then it would come back

then I would lose it 

Thought bubbles are fickle little bastards

I am 6 weeks out from my first full Ironman

Ironman Arizona 

FUCK. 

thats it. 

Just fuck. 

Fuck is what is hanging in my thought bubble 

well... that and 

nope lost it again 

Just Fuck

I still have no filter and this is still not a blog for those who are offended by crude language. 

***Caution***

The F words comes up a lot

and I also talk about lube more than the average person

also I wear a fanny pack when I run and I understand if you cannot support that.  

Training for a full 140.6 is completely different than training for the half

Not that I think 70.3's are easy or that they don't deserve respect. They do. 

But sometimes when I am in hour 5 of my bike ride and my ass hurts and a lot of other parts hurt I think about how adorable it was when I thought 70.3 training was the hardest thing I would ever do.

You hit a point in training where every ride/run/swim you do is going to be your longest ride/run/swim ever. 

ever, ever, fucking ever. 

Last week I biked 70 miles, the week before that 62 miles, this week I am shooting for 90 miles.

You buy lube in bulk

(not the fun kind)

You discuss the pros/cons of said lube with complete strangers

(I hope this is something that only triathletes do)

you eat a lot. 

Your day revolves around eating and training... and sleeping 

People ask me how training is going and my answer is the same every time.

I am tired, I am hungry, and I am sore

your house is in shambles

Need to know what gift to give that special triathlete in your life?

A maid, a cook, and a lawn service. 

My grass is dead and I am not sure if that ball of hair in the corner is a dust bunny or we took in another foster dog.

You know what? Just buy them astro turf. 

It's not like they are going to stop this dumb shit anytime soon.

I am lucky that I have a sherpa who makes sure I have clean underwear, fresh sports bras, and who tucks me into bed at 6pm on Friday/Saturday nights

But you also realize that your body is capable of some pretty cool shit

and I don't just mean your bladders ability to recognize when there is a clean bathroom (permanent) in a 1 mile radius. 

Those miles you didn't think you could ever run? You run them

That course you never thought you could finish? You crush it

That swim with big waves and dark skies? You push though it

That ride when you forget to lube and cry during your shower when fresh water hits fresh chafed skin? You never forget lube again

That ride with 3 flat tires in 12 miles? You learn to change a tire with your eyes closed. 

You also learn to pray that the bike tech is nearby if this same shit situation happens on race day. 

You learn and you adjust 

Sometimes you adjust your medications and that helps too.

sometimes you cry

sometimes you freak out in the middle of a swim and cry in your googles because your mind is telling you that mid swim is the perfect time for a meltdown and there is no way you can possibly cross that finish line. 

So you call your husband and he talks you off the clif and takes you out for dinner. 

You get up and you keep going. 

Sometimes you eat a double double animal style and polish off a vanilla shake while promptly telling your mind to go fuck itself. 

Sometimes you lose your eloquence and say fuck. 

Sometimes you say it a lot.