Speaking of Running

My brother ran the DC Triathlon last weekend. He did it in under 3 hours which I think is fabulous.  I’d be proud of myself if I did it in three days.

That Sunday morning brought with it the first feel of fall in DC and the weather brought even more merriment to the occasion.

While we were walking over Memorial Bridge, we stopped to watch the swimming portion of the race for a bit.  We were among many onlookers, all equally fascinated by those kicking their legs against the Potomac’s current. “Do they need to swim a certain stroke?” I asked Jesse.  He told me they could swim any stroke they wanted and we found out later one participant jumped in with a snorkel and began to dog paddle.  He didn’t make it too far, however.

My sister-in-law said while we were waiting for Geoff to run to the finish line, “He kept saying that he’s never going to do this again and then this morning he said, ‘Well, maybe I’ll do another race.'”

It’s hard to remember why you’re doing something when the work is difficult, or worse, you don’t think you’re any good at what you’re working at. The latter happened to me in Santa Fe.  While I was lugging my suitcases down a rather steep mountain, I was pretty sure I wasn’t coming back.  That’s when I got a text from Geoff asking me how I was doing. “I’m leaving early,” I texted back.  “I don’t think I can do this.”  He told me to get some rest along with a few other things and then, “I’m proud of you.”

I’m proud of him, too.