Dudes, my husband completed a triathlon. He was all, "hey, maybe I could do a triathlon." And then HE FUCKING DID. My husband=rules.
Would you like to hear about our trip to La Quinta, where the triathlon was held? I thought so.
This is what I did for three hours on the drive. I took a crochet class with Cindy and I have lost my ever-lovin' mind. It is all I do, all I think about. I crochet until I lose feeling in my hand. And then I crochet more because only a pussy stops for pain and I'm no pussy.
We're fairly regimented about tv and sweets with Dash. Friday is dessert night, ONLY if he's at least tasted what we served for dinner every night during the week; and we don't turn on the tv until the sun is down in the evenings. But when we go on vacation (or stay at a "ho-towel" as Dash calls it) all bets are off. He can gorge on tv and donuts until 4 am if he wants. No rules, bitches.
We brought the bike into the room. Because we is klassy.
We went to dinner at the Hog's Breath Inn the night before the race. Hey, Josh, how many triathlons have you completed in your life so far?
How many by tomorrow night?
So then we got there & Josh was all, "How many tickets to the gun show?"
Right before the race started we just kinda hung out by the lake and marveled at the variety of people who would be participating. I saw several women who weighed at least 200 lbs, a 72-year-old man and a guy with only one leg. For a split second I thought about training with Josh and trying it myself next year. Then I thought, "No. I like wine. And sitting still."
The swim was first. Poor husband's rented wetsuit burst a zipper right before the race, so he had to swim with ice-cold water flowing into his suit the whole time. That tiny speck is him.
After the swim came the bike portion. Again, he is the speck (I am no sports photographer, but in my defense, I was working one-handed as Dash refused to let me put him down for even a second. He is no triathlete, I'll tell you that much.)
And, the run! By this point it was pouring down rain and if I were in the race I would have packed up and walked my ass back to the car. But not this guy. No rest, yo!
Poor hubs. He seriously was about to pass out but indulged me one victory photo.
Also, did not puke on the child, which was commendable considering what he'd just been through.
So then we got there & Josh was all, "How many tickets to the gun show?"
Right before the race started we just kinda hung out by the lake and marveled at the variety of people who would be participating. I saw several women who weighed at least 200 lbs, a 72-year-old man and a guy with only one leg. For a split second I thought about training with Josh and trying it myself next year. Then I thought, "No. I like wine. And sitting still."
The swim was first. Poor husband's rented wetsuit burst a zipper right before the race, so he had to swim with ice-cold water flowing into his suit the whole time. That tiny speck is him.
After the swim came the bike portion. Again, he is the speck (I am no sports photographer, but in my defense, I was working one-handed as Dash refused to let me put him down for even a second. He is no triathlete, I'll tell you that much.)
And, the run! By this point it was pouring down rain and if I were in the race I would have packed up and walked my ass back to the car. But not this guy. No rest, yo!
Poor hubs. He seriously was about to pass out but indulged me one victory photo.
Also, did not puke on the child, which was commendable considering what he'd just been through.
Nice work, Papa. You make us proud! Now take a load off for a few weeks and stop making us all feel bad about our own lazy asses.
3 comments:
First, yay! What an awesome accomplishment, and such a great example to set for Dash. I dig you guys.
Second, that last picture is so great. He looks really proud of his daddy, it made me tear up.
This never would have happened if I didn't have you and Dashy supporting me, baby!
Oh man, I love your commentary. You write like you speak, I imagine. Amazing.
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