I'm really trying not to be a one-trick pony here, but it's not working out too well. I've started and stopped a number of lifeless posts that would have flopped like a dead fish, because all I can think about is this stupid triathlon.
It's been raining for three days straight, and it's a 50% chance of rain Sunday morning. Which I'm totally pumped about. Because if there's one thing better than spandex it's wet spandex.
Despite all my worries (Will I be kicked in the face in the swimming section? Will I fall off my bike on a slick turn and then be run over by a car? Perhaps most concerning, what will my hair look like when I'm done?), there's one thing I do know for sure. When they ask me to shout out the name of my angel—who I'm running this race for—I know what I'll say: