My hubby ran a triathlon this past weekend.
You know, just a refreshing 500 meter swim, followed by a leisurely 15 mile bike ride, ending with a simple 5k run. Yes, that's what he wanted to do on a perfectly beautiful EARLY Saturday morning
He trained for this event. He swam. He ran. He biked. He even practiced the transitions between each event.
It turns out my hubby can run fast, swim fast, and bike fast, but he is painfully slow in terms of changing out of wet clothes to dry clothes and from taking off bike shoes to putting on running shoes. I helped time his transition times. I encouraged him by mocking his slow transition pace. Honestly, there are preschoolers who can put on shoes faster.
The morning of the race arrives. Perfect race conditions. I wait anxiously at the finish line. Eight runners cross the finish line, and then I see my hubby.
He looks great. He looks fit. He looks...shoeless?
He crosses the finish line in socks.
Apparently, someone accidentally took his shoes. Driven by
After the race, he and his fellow
I hate to brag, but I once went to the mailbox in just socks.
Now who's impressive?