In the off-chance you’ve yet to hear: word on the street is the wacky girl who on Saturday finished running every street in Marlborough the very next day went on to take first freaking place in her age group–and was the ninth woman overall across the finish line–at the 2011 Marlborough Triathlon.
In case there’s any question: that chick is none other than little ol’ me. Also in case there’s any question: I am most definitely not accustomed to such glory and am completely-totally-wholly basking in it. A massively huge Cheshire Cat grin has not left my face since sometime around 11 am on Sunday. I have been giddily finding new ways to review the race results (for instance, of the eight women who finished before me, four were in the F-PRO division. That means they are kinda-sorta good at this stuff.) I confess I experience a wee bit of separation anxiety when too far away from my first-place finisher’s medal with its nifty blue ribbon. I am personally attributing the win to the nifty new socket rockets I got this weekend. Or maybe it’s attributable to the sadistic workouts my coach made me do this winter. Or maybe to the insanely focused way I did those nutty workouts. Or maybe all three. Whatever the root, here’s the result:
I certainly have a longer blog post about this in me but that will take hours to write that I just don’t have rightthisveryminute, so I’m going to employ the same blogging approach I did after the Boston Marathon: pictures first, words later.
Here’s the day revisited, thanks to my camera-wielding mother: