Hello, and welcome to the July installment of what is becoming a monthly update to my website. When I started this back in December, I hoped to update it more frequently. But, as with many grand plans, execution has been the devil.

I completed my first triathlon on July 14. It was a sprint triathlon; 0.5k swim, 17k bike, 5k run. I have a few pictures from the event on the site now.

It’s hard to describe all of the feelings I had about finishing it. I was happy, tired, relieved, elated, and ready to do the next one. It was also abundantly clear the overwhelmingly good condition of the "real" triathletes.

I had many wide-ranging thoughts during the course of the event: During the mad rush into the water at the start of the race, I felt as if I was swimming in champagne due to all of the little tiny bubbles created by the participants. As I swam, I thought of the start of my training in England, swimming lap after lap in the bathwater warm pool at the Brentwood Community Center. It seems like so long ago.

Coming out of the water after the swim I remember saying to myself: "Damn, I’m tired." The barefoot run along the dirt trail to the transition area began with a slow walk and finally picked up to a trot. The organizers had laid down a foam pad walkway to protect feet against the rocks on the trail. It worked, kinda.

In the transition area I downed some Gatorade, put on socks, shoes, sunglasses, Ole Miss baseball hat, and A.S. Roma football jersey. Luca Magnani boldly predicted it would make me invincible.

Note: Have you seen the price of good road bike lately? Paula Jones could get a new double wide for the price of some of these bikes.

Back into the transition area after the bike ride, I took one last drink of Gatorade and started the run. I started off in a grandfatherly gait as I struggled to lift the extra 100 pounds that someone apparently had slipped into my shoes during the bike ride. After a mile or so, things were more normal.

The final mile was on a wooded trail, mostly uphill. I had promised myself I would not stop and walk during the race, and this hill was trying my resolve. I thought repeatedly about running up the Warley Hill in Brentwood during my early training. I ran that hill over and over in the damp English evenings, telling myself, "This ain’t so bad, this ain’t so bad." In comparison, it wasn’t.

When running a triathlon, one must check his ego at the door. Throughout the run little pony-tailed high-school girls ran past me with the grace and ease of someone out for a short run on a warm summer night. I tell myself it’s just that they have more time to train. Denial is a healthy thing. Don’t you think?

I finished in 1:29, far better than my goal of 1:45 and my stretch objective of 1:35. Friends Michelle and Deanna finished a short time later and then the post-game story-telling began. We basked in the warm summer morning. Apollo smiled on us. We made plans for the next, substantially longer, event in late August. Life was good.