Adventures in Potty Training

I am happy to report that my darling Austin has not worn a diaper in almost two weeks! This is a big accomplishment for him, and it has meant a lot of work for me (and Ryan when he's home). I decided a couple of weeks ago that he totally knows what is going on with using the potty and I was being lazy by waiting to potty train him. The thought of going to public toilets with him climbing all over the place made me shudder, but I knew it was time, and I just put him in "big boy underwear" one day after a playdate with my friend Kristin and her daughter, Hannah. Both kids had successfully taken care of business in the potty that morning, and with encouragement from her, I decided to take the plunge. With a couple of bad days as exceptions, he has done amazingly well. Last week, he even started going in the bathroom without asking me for help and going #2 - all by himself! Woo hoo! You should see him beam with pride when Ryan and I celebrate and do the "potty dance." He'll walk around for 20 minutes saying, "I went poopie in the potty!" It is really funny. Yesterday, we (Austin, Wyatt, and I) flew to St. Louis to visit my in-laws, and that was a rough day for the potty training, but we're back on it today and he's done great. I have to say, I am so impressed by his ability to just keep at it. Way to go, Austin! :) Speaking of St. Louis, we're having a great time here. It is funny, I have not been here before without Ryan. Of course, I am close enough to his family that it is completely comfortable for me to be here, but that was just an interesting realization! He joins us here late Friday night, and we're looking forward to a great long weekend with his family - Kevin came into town, too, so now the only ones who can't make it are Rachael, Brian, and their kids. Stay tuned for some photos, which I'll try to post when we get home. Anyway, it is lovely here, and I so enjoy the change of scenery and all the help with the boys. Austin is over the moon to be around everyone, but especially uncles Kevin and Marty. I enjoyed some time this afternoon with Cathy, going through some of the pictures from her childhood which she recently had put on a DVD. She's had quite an interesting, adventurous life between growing up in the Phillipines as the daughter of missionaries and all of her travels with Gary. I love learning more about her. What a blessing to have such fun and loving family!

A Prairie Home Companion Indeed

For my 30th birthday, Marty gave me two tickets to go see Garrison Keillor on tour at Red Rocks. The worth of his gift did not sink in until Wednesday night, when the Great American Storyteller's voice washed over us. After having a drink at my boss' house in Golden, we headed to Red Rocks. The sun was setting, the air warm, and the wind just right. We were both starving and each got a bbq sandwich as we entered the venue and then found our seats. Keillor was already in action. Soon, he was extemporaneously telling a story while "Sound Guy," on the fly, did sounds for it. Keillor got closer and closer to Sound Guy, as the story got more and more animated. Keillor took his hand from his mouth and then stretched his arms out, as if his hand were literally pulling the hilarious words from Keillor's brain. Amazing. If you've ever heard Garrison on the radio, he's twice as good in person. His voice is so melodic, and he's actually very animated, which you never catch on the radio. After telling a hilarious story about how men and women pee, it was time for Intermission. But Keillor didn't take one. Instead, he told the crowd to go pee if they have to, but for those who didn't, he asked them to stand up and "sing with me." And sing we all did. Keillor first led us through America the Beautiful as if he were a conductor, then "I Can't Help Falling in Love," and then two more songs. At one point, Gayle turned to me and said "This is so Lessmann." Yes, my mom's been doing some of what Keillor does for years. Of course Keillor ended with the Lutherans and Lake Wobegone. Unfortunately, he still had energy after 3 hours and our babysitter didn't. We heard most of the monologue, but missed my favorite part: "That's the news from Lake Wobegone, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are - above average." Thanks, Moose, for letting me see the best storyteller we've ever known.

I Can't Even Last an Hour

Gayle had girl's night last night, leaving me with the two kids. Ordinarily, no big deal. But last night, I tried to continue with Austin's potty training and allowed him plenty of time to sit on the toilet to poop. Really, I think he was just manipulating me into a later bedtime as he often so cleverly does. After taking a bath, I put on his diaper. THEN, he decided to let it rip. I asked him if he pooped, and he said yeah, and then he said "I want to poop in the potty." So he sat, again, on the toilet, and out come two nuggets "A big one and a tiny one," he said, and he was right. Finally ready for bed, Austin then decided to bump his head hard on the wooden part of the bed, as he frequently carelessly does, and cried more loudly than my attempts to soothe him. Meanwhile, Wyatt in the room next door launched into his piercing falcon-shriek cry. After settling Austin down, I turned my attention to Wyatt. Poor little guy had worked himself up and I couldn't calm him down. Frustrated, I put my tail between my legs and called Gayle to ask if Wyatt needed milk. Sure enough, he did. So I went downstairs to warm up some milk and, predictably, by the time I made it back upstairs Wyatt was in fully falcon-shrieking mode again. And he wouldn't take the milk because it wasn't warm enough for his liking. With the falcon-shriek hurting my ears, I clenched my jaw at Wyatt and asked him why he was crying. Not a good move. My poor demeanor freaked him out and caused him to shreak longer. This time I carried him with me downstairs and he settled down. I heated the milk up to a hotter temperature, went back upstairs, and this time he drained that milk like an old drunk shooting whiskey. And then he was calm. All that in just over an hour. Gayle handles them all day! Although I was rattled, my boys were soon both fast asleep, and I could only sigh as I sat squarely between their rooms, working in peace at my computer. Oh, the sweet sounds of sleep.

More Triathlon Pictures

Marty says I look like an Ogre in the swimming one.

Pictures of Ryan's first TRI

He did it! Ryan was modest in his post - he totally rocked the 5430 Triathlon, especially when you consider it was his first triathlon EVER! Thanks to Barry, he looked like a seasoned pro out there. I am very, very proud of him and had a blast at the race with Krisha and my boys. These pictures are not in the right order, and I am way too tired to try to fix it or re-load them. The pictures with the great sunlight of Ryan and Barry and then Ry and the boys are right before the race as the sun was rising (including the hot air balloons getting ready to take off), and then Ryan coming from the swim, starting the bike, eating a gel during the run, and then with me right after he finished. Ry, you made it look easy! I am PROUD!

My Day In The Sun - The 5430 Half Ironman

I'm alive! I survived the 5430. Actually more than that - I enjoyed my day in the sun. I've been a spectator at a long event before in which I wasn't participating, and I know how draining it can be. Gayle faced the hardship and woke up at 5:00 am, ripped the kids out of bed, and was standing on the water's edge as I came out of it at about 7:38 a.m., ahead of schedule. Yes, after prepping the bikes and race gear on Saturday, Barry and I headed to Boulder at 4:30 am. It was eerie to take our bikes off the roof of the car at 5:15 in the dark, hearing the nervous and hushed whispers of other athletes around us amidst the low drone of bugs and wildlife around us at the Boulder Reservoir. We stood in line together and got "body marked," which means some girl marked us with our number in permanent marker. Then we went into the "transition zone" and I set up all my race gear like Barry had taught me the day before. I was a little nervous, but not in a performance degrading manner. I went to the bathroom 3 times between 5:30 and 6:30, which any athlete can understand. But, I was really ready to just get going. Before our wave went off at 6:55, I got to spend some precious minutes with Gayle and the kids, who ambled onto the beach at about 6:30, Gayle pushing them in the stroller. Their eyes were wide open, as if they were so tired they had to fight to keep them open, but they didn't want to let them shut. I'll never forget the image of their faces, smiling at me in unison at 6:30 in the morning with the sun rising over their heads and the Flatirons of Boulder. Hot air balloons launched above us, and I explained to Austin that they were going to watch us race. I found my spot at 6:55, they called our wave, and we were off. I'll spare the details, but in short, I swam faster than I thought I would, despite swerving all over the lake, thrice being stopped by a row-boat that told me to go the other direction. I did the 1.2 mile swim in under 42 minutes, and honestly never felt that bad doing it. Many people said I'd freak out with all the other bodies around me, but I guess swimming with baracuda, sharks and seals in the ocean with rolling waves was good preparation for that. I did feel like I was going to lose my breath at about 5 minutes in, but I turned around and saw other people with red caps (meaning they were in my age group) behind me, and decided I was doing ok and settled into a manageable pace. During the swim, I noticed the hot air balloons and thought about Austin and Wyatt on shore, motivation alone to keep swimming. I got out of the water like I had just won the race (see photo), and Gayle was right there with a stunned look on her face, as if she were rather anticipating that I had drowned. So I hopped on my bike and headed out for the 56 mile ride. I soon got caught up in the excitement of other over-eager participants and ended up riding the first 28 mile lap too fast, averaging somewhere over 22 mph. But, the weather was perfect (in the 70's with little to no wind or sun), so I figured I was fine. But I wasn't. Into the second lap, I started having some cramping in my quads, so I backed off a bit. I had aches in my back and neck, but did my best to press on and eat and drink as much as I could. Finally the bike ride was over, and I completed both loops with an average of 21.6 mph, faster than I've ever ridden 56 miles. As I turned to go down the hill back towards the Reservoir and transition area, Barry's wife Krisha yelled at me: I turned to look at her, but my eye caught Barry instead. I did a triple take to confirm that it was Barry and, indeed it was. I was utterly confused, and worried that he had injured himself. Nevertheless, I headed to the transition area, donned my clothes, and saw a Gatorade bottle half-full on Barry's bike, grabbed it without shame and slurped it down, and headed up the first hill of the half-marathon. It actually felt good to be running, and no more than 1/10th of a mile in, none other than Barry popped out from behind a car and started running with me. Turns out, poor Barry got a flat tire and didn't have a spare and was therefore unable to finish the race (Barry's true love is a full Ironman and in a race as "short" as a half, he doesn't carry spares. Unfortunatey, this was the first race in which he ever flatted). But, ever gracious, he ran step by step with me, and taught me what it means to run a half-ironman half-marathon. As I began to whine and fear at Mile 5 that my legs were cramping up and were going to seize up and bring me to the ground, Barry instructed me to press on, and so I did. My pace slowed from 7:45's to somewhere between 8 and 9's, slower than I was used to running. I didn't feel overall exhausted, like I did when I ran the Colfax half-marathon, but my legs felt like arse. With each passing mile, they got worse instead of better, but despite my fear of them seizing up, they never did, and I continued to follow Barry's orders to just keep moving. Barry said that we'd deal with complete seizure of my muscles if and when it happened, but no sooner. I still wonder whether he thought I would get to that point. At about mile 9, I thought to myself: "It feels like someone is trying to rip the muscles off of my bones." At mile 11, Barry told me I was on my own, and he took off to finish the last 2 miles of the half marathon at a 6:30 pace (not easy). By now, so close to the finish line, I decided that I was going to have to collapse to the ground before I quit running, and I sort of got used to the pain I was experiencing in my legs. I knew I was nearing the end and picked up my pace a bit, wanting to break 5 hour and 15 minutes. Then I passed Gayle, Wyatt, Austin, Barry and Krisha, and I high-fived Austin who was on Barry's shoulders. I was so overcome with emotion that I almost had to stop running because I was wheezing for breath, on the brink of tears. But I ran the last 1/10th, and crossed the finish line in 5 hours 15 minutes 55 seconds, about 15 minutes under my realistic goal time of 5 hours and 30 minutes (my half-marathon average came to 8:33 miles). The training paid off. The whole time I was racing, I realized how lucky I was to be doing it, with my family cheering me on, and with Barry running by my side. It took a lot of support for me to run as fast as I did, they were all there for me, and it felt really good. I'll never forget it, ever. After I crossed the finish line, my muscles were cramping pretty bad, flexing on their own and begging for water, nourishment and love. Gayle ran over and gave me a big hug and kiss, sweaty and salty though I was. I held Austin in my arms, as if I were holding motivation itself. Finally, I stumbled over to the free-massage tent, and got my first EVER massage (do you think I would have had it any other way than free?). Let me tell you, that was PAINFUL, because everytime the therapist (Jenni) massaged one muscle, another cramped. When I told her that it was my first massage, she burst out laughing as if it were the funniest thing she had heard all week. I said goodbye to Gayle, Krisha and the kids, and Barry and I stayed to guzzle some burritos, fruit and water. I'm a bit hobbled now, with a sore foot and really sore muscles, but I created some good memories out there. Thanks to all of you who so lovingly checked in with me, before and after the race, including Rachael and Lucy (thanks so much for the note - some of the miles did pass quickly), mom, dad, Moose (weird video, but I liked the "Press On" message), Kevin (who said he was going to shave his legs in support of me - did you?), Chris, Wes and the Shrocks (for beautiful messages on my phone - yes, I raced fast, felt God's pleasure, and had a somewhat supernatural race and "hike" (Bruce)), Kristin and Corey (Bowmar was harder), Ted (I wore the tuxedo socks), McMonagle, Dan Eakin (the bag and belt worked like a charm), Saxby (yes, the kids and wife were great motivation), and anyone else who may be slipping my mind right now. I'm not used to that kind of attention, but I appreciated all the support immensely, and hope I have the privilege of repaying it someday. Much love to all, I couldn't have done it without you, at least not that fast. - Ryan

Olympics

I TOTALLY stole this from my friend Wes, but on this, the opening day of the Olympics, I thought you would enjoy this too. By way of background, Marvin Gaye performed one of the most memorable National Anthem performances in 1983 at an All Star Game, one in which he mesmerized the crowd, and had them clapping in unison by the end. Read the article for more details, and the full clip of his anthem. The clip below is also sweet. By the Dawns Early Light - U-S-A.

Baseball

If you read our blog, you know that we love sports. Here's a really interesting article on closers in baseball being overrated. Can anyone say Izzy? Gagne? And here's one closer who was not overrated:

Our camping adventure

Ryan expressing his displeasure with our camp site. I cut off the two campers on our left and right, so this really isn't a good picture to show how crammed in there we were.

Enjoying the gorgeous views in Rocky Mountain National Park. I had forgotten how beautiful that place is!

The amazing view from Kristin and Corey's camp site. Such a treat!

The Jones family! We had so much fun with them.

Ry and Austin enjoying marshmallow roasting. The s'mores were delish!

Yes, that's right...after months (years, really) of avoiding camping with baby/children, I decided that Austin was old enough to appreciate camping and we went for it this past weekend. We stuffed our Highlander full and drove up to Rocky Mountain National Park on Saturday morning to meet our friends, the Joneses, and do some car camping. Now, considering I have only camped with Ryan and he generally avoids car camping (he'd rather hike 8 miles and then find a backcountry site -- called backpacking, for those not schooled in outdoorsy-ness), I didn't realize how luxurious it really is! We were able to bring all kinds of good food that we wouldn't bring backpacking, and we even brought PILLOWS!

Of course, with two kids, and one of them only being six months old, we weren't going to hike 8 miles in and set up camp in the deep woods. So Ryan sucked it up and did the car camping thing. I thought he was going to cry when we entered the Moraine Park campground and he saw how close the campsites were to each other. When we found our site (A- 49), he was very displeased (see photo above), but immediately made the most of it. We took a while to set up our tent - some friends graciously let us borrow their large family tent, and we had never set it up before. Right as we were getting to the point of putting the rain fly over it (to keep the rain out of the tent), it started to rain. So we busted it and managed to get it on, but ended up sitting in the car for a bit (and then the tent -- Austin loved it), waiting for the intermittent showers to pass.

We found Kristin and Corey after the rain was pretty much over, and we enjoyed a yummy fajita dinner at their camp site. The whole time we hung out at the Jones' site, Austin and their little girl, Avery, were having a blast. They explored and played together so well. I was dreading the night ahead, knowing that it could be rough for both Austin and Wyatt (and thus for Ryan and me). But after some declicious s'mores, some good hang-out time, and great conversation, it was time to head back to A-49 and try to sleep as much as possible.

One nice thing about backpacking is that it is truly peaceful at night -- no cars driving by literally all night, no generators running on the camper next to you, no people walking by on their way to the restroom. I think all of the above must have awakened poor little Wyatt at some point. Yes, it was a rough night, but we survived. I just tried to run over to the Pack 'n Play as soon as I heard him start to fuss, because it quickly escalated to an all-out shriek if I didn't. The great news was that Austin slept wonderfully -- he did not stir, even when Wyatt screamed. When a random bird was squawking above our tent at 6:30 in the morning and Austin rolled over to see Ryan right next to him, a huge smile covered his face and he said, "What's that sound, Daddy?" It was so cute. I knew he was in heaven waking up with Daddy right by his side.

We got rolling, and enjoyed a yummy breakfast of blueberry pancakes and fresh fruit at the Jones' site again -- thanks to Ryan. He was the "master pancaster." After packing up our camp sites, we went for a short hike with Kristin, Corey, and Avery from the Fern Lake trailhead before eating a quick lunch of PBJ's and heading for home.

I want to thank Kristin and Corey for a great time, great conversation, and for sharing all the things I had forgotten (which were numerous) with us. :o) Thanks also for helping us reserve the camp site -- even though it wasn't as pristine and bucolic as backpacking, I certainly enjoyed having great food and my pillow!

Austin's enjoyment of camping made it all worth it for me, even though I was ready for bed at 8:00 Sunday night. Plus, I really do love being out there, enjoying the fabulous views and God's amazing creation. So what if I lost a little sleep? I gained some great memories.

MY FIRST TRIATHLON

While our blog is largely filled with "firsts" for our kids, I have my own first to write about. As some of you know, I’ve been training for my first ever triathlon - a half Ironman in Boulder on August 10. I’ve been officially training since March, and unofficially training for my whole life. Yes, I've learned that triathlons draw on a number of athletic skills. Whether you are one who didn’t know I was training, has encouraged me through my training, or has criticized me for training, this blog entry is for you. Why Am I Doing This? A very good question, and one I'm still trying to figure out the answer to. There are many componets to the answer I think, and I'll give you the brief version: the root of my decision to run trace to my friend Barry, my “co-clerk” when I clerked for Justice Coats. To tell the story, I have to take you back to 2005, when Barry encouraged me to bike to work with him one day for “Bike-To-Work-Day,” agreeing to let me ride his $2000 Trek Madone road bike, one similar to what Lance Armstrong used to ride. Previously awed and intimidated by such machinery, I remember once telling Gayle that I would never become a cyclist. After that first ride with Barry over three years ago, however, I knew that I was wrong. Ever generous Barry then let me borrow his bike for an entire month to see if I liked it. I justified “borrowing” his bike for so long on the grounds that I might buy it from him. But everyone knows that sellers of Trek Madones don’t need to loan their bikes out for a month in order to exchange them for some cash. As part of my “testing” period, I went on a ride with Barry one hot summer day. Barry told me he wanted to ride for a few hours, and no offense to Barry, but I didn’t think I would have trouble keeping up with him. So confident was I in my ability to keep up with him, I remember playing 3.5 hours of hard tennis the morning of the ride (Gayle was out of town) to the point of leg cramps. Big mistake. 20 minutes into the ride up and down hills, I was quickly learning the benefits of drafting off the person in front of you. 20 minutes later, I was slurping every last ounce out of a bottle of Hemmer Gel that I found on the back of Barry’s bike. And 20 minutes after that I was, well, cramping. I gained respect for cyclists that day I had never had before. And after that first month of cycling, I was hooked. In the years that passed, I became the owner of two separate road bikes (good stories about both of them for another time), and began to discover the joys of riding. A runner by trade, I became quickly enthralled with the speeds you could achieve on a bike, the things you could see, and the lack of pounding as compared to running. My first long bike ride ever was with my other cyclist buddy and longtime friend, Ted. My first long ride before that was, oh, 40 miles. My first long ride with Ted was about 100 miles, and that included about 6000 feet of climbing. Two days later we climbed Mt. Evans together, a 14’er! I had the great pleasure of riding with Marty from Boulder to the base of the Long’s Peak trailhead as well. And, I began biking to work, including cycling into my everyday fitness routine, saving gas, saving time, and enjoying many of my rides with Brian. Come January, 2008, Barry asked me if I wanted to ride the Triple Bypass with him (a 120 mile bike ride over 3 mountain passes in Colorado). I figured I would be more or less in shape for the ride doing my normal training, talked to Gayle about it a little bit, checked out the website, thought it looked cool, and said “sure.” Soon, Barry was telling me that if I was in shape for the Triple Bypass, I would be more or less in biking shape for a half-ironman, and that if I worked on my running and swimming a little bit, I’d be good to go. So why not run the 5430 Long Course triathlon with him in Boulder? Ok, at this point I realized that it was going to take a decent amount of training to run the 5430. But mind you, my general philosophy is that I’ll play any sport with anyone, anytime, and especially if they come to my backyard. Barry would be making a significant effort to come all the way from Dallas to my backyard, so, YES! I talked to Gayle about it a bit, and decided to go for it. What Has It Been Like? It has always been amazing to me how the body adapts. Just last February, less than 6 months ago, I was bench pressing 225 10 times, shooting 100 jump shots a day with Marty, and running windsprints. Now, Coach Barry’s training schedule has taken me from running ½ hour to running 1 hour and 45 minutes, biking 20 miles to 120 miles, and swimming not at all to, well, a little better than not at all. I remember one of my first long runs of 1 hour thinking at the half way point that my hips hurt, my ass hurt, my legs hurt, my groin hurt, and that I wasn’t going to make it. Now I run an hour and mix in “tempo” intervals, just to get a good solid workout like a well trained steed would. Probably the most fun part about this whole deal has been talking to Barry about training (both his and mine), racing, bikes, and everything else that goes along with the sport of triathlon. Everyone knows that I haven’t typically been one to get into endurance sports, but triathlon really is fun, because you’re basically doing different things everyday, and all for a purpose. It’s not like you gotta just go out for another run, or another ride. You get to do both, and at the same time stay strong by your swimming. The most positive benefit to the training is that I really feel fit, in a different way than I’ve ever felt before. Training as I have has forced me to eat better, not because I’m a food Nazi all of a sudden, but because training hard makes you crave good food, and good food enables you to train hard. I’ve gotten more flexible, actually have less aches and pains than usual, and have really learned about how to maintain good nutrition during long workouts, something I was never able to figure out on the tennis court. Also, competitive sports have been a way of life for a long time. It’s part of my nature to be training for something and working towards a goal athletically. I’ve always been a proponent of body, mind, and spirit, and for me, they often seem to work in that order. When my body is exercised and challenged, my energy is high, my mind is sharp, and my spirit is strong. Because of my training, I’ve also gotten to spend some good time with people I otherwise would not have, and done things that I would have never done before. Dan and Laura Eakin have been especially good training buddies, and I went on some nice rides with Rudy, Geoff, Rankin and Fowler. My dad has also been wonderful, accompanying me on one of my first long rides, and providing paddy-wagon support from his bike on a long hard run. I rode the Triple Bypass in a way I can be proud of, have run around Barr Lake like it was nothing, ran up Boulder Canyon, for an hour and a half along the Eagle River, through the cows as the sun was setting in Boulder, swam in Bow Mar Lake with Gayle kayaking beside me, ran long in Couer D’Alene Idaho, up Golden Caynon, down Bear Creek Canyon, up Lefthand Canyon to Ward, and down Highway 7. On my ride up Lefhand Canyon, Barry and I were even confronted by a bear, a moment I will never forget! And, as part of my training regime, I ran a half-marathon in sub-7 miles. Apparently my Dad's PR for a half-marathon was only a few seconds faster than my time. Had I known that, I would have not paused to puke 2 times. But trust me, no one in basketball shorts and a backwards hat finished ahead of me. To My Critics: I must admit, I’ve harbored some bitterness towards those who have been less than ambivalent –in fact critical—towards me training for a half-ironman. One who does not know why I'm training and the extent to which Gayle supports me should pause before criticizing. But, these individuals have forced me to ensure that I have in my life what the sport of triathlon itself demands: BALANCE. Yes, there have been times where my training required a long weekend ride or run, leaving Gayle at home with the kids. But her willingness to do so has only strengthened our bond, as she encourages me to new heights, and as I try to do the same for her. (Critics might take note that during the time I trained for this race, Gayle ran three of her own with me cheering her on. And she did great). Did I lose my balance ever? Yes, I'm sure. But I found my way, like I always have, and always will. If anything, I’m more in tune of what a balanced life for me is than I ever have been before. To My Supporters: Abundant thanks first and foremost to Gayle, for massaging my hips in the early days of training, for allowing me to discover new things, for cooking delicious and healthful meals to fuel me, and most of all for being the wonderful wife that she always is. To Barry, for answering countless questions with thought and care, for setting my workout schedule, for teaching me nutrition, for giving me my first swim lesson since I was 8, for running in Boulder with me, riding the Triple Bypass, and just being a good friend. It’s been a great run. One needs only to look at my Outlook Inbox with over 200 e-mails that Barry wrote about triathlon to understand the depth of coaching he has provided, and length of support he's lended. To Dan Eakin, for helping me improve my swimming and for being a good local training partner. To Austin, for greeting me as I come home from my work rides, and asking me countless times: "Did you go for a bike riiiide? Did you see, a bear?" To Wyatt, for unintentionally providing extra motivation for me to be a better athlete, and a better dad. And to all of my sports buddies who have still allowed me to inhabit the playing field with you even with shaved legs! I want to make you all proud. My Goals: All along, I wanted my race results to reflect a solid training effort. Can I go faster than I will in my first half-ironman? I fully expect so. But, I want to race like I belong on the course. I really don’t have a time goal. But, I'll be thrilled if I'm out of the water in 45 minutes, average over 20 mph on the bike, and run 8 - 8:30 miles. Who knows what race day will bring in terms of wind, weather, and other variables I haven't thought about. As long as I don't quit on myself, I'll be happy. I consider myself blessed to have a body that more or less functions well, and the opportunity to go compete. Bring it on, I will meet the challenge.