In order to be ready for this Half Iron Person triathlon in June, I need to fit in 9 workouts a week: three swims, three rides, and three runs. T minus 6 weeks until race day. My stomach, and my bowels, do a shaky little jig every time I think about race day. More on this exciting dance later. Last Friday, my parents (AKA, all star, award winning grandparents) were in town, and I had my long run to do. Ten miles, give or take. The cool part was that my parents are training for a half marathon at the moment, so they agreed to do the run with me. Six years ago, I never imagined I'd run ten miles by myself, let alone with my parents. While I was proud of them and their new found love of running, I quite frankly expected to leave them in my dust and meet them at the car afterward. As we were driving to the trail, I felt a little cocky about it, actually. There's not many people I can beat, I thought, but surely, surely, I can beat them. My mom just took up running a year ago and, after all, is more advanced in years than I. I had it in the bag, right?
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