As we walked across the pool deck this afternoon, both a wiggling and a jiggling, I looked at the Expert and said, “I’m sorry, but did we really do a half-Iron three weeks ago?”  

I am amazed at how quickly I get fluffy. 

Granted, fluffiness didn’t arrive through lack of effort.  I got a birthday cake (ate at least 3/4 of it myself).  We celebrated my birthday yesterday with lots of good food and lots of wine and Raspberry Vodka Collins.  
You can say that I’ve tried very hard to re-earn my muffin top over the last few weeks.  But alas, it’s time to stop.  Yes, I’ve been saying that.  But I mean it now. Of course, Thanksgiving is an awesome time to try and watch the food intake.  Ha.
Today, I did a three (supposed to be six) mile run and a twenty minute swim, and boy, am I sore.  Already.   I think the road to the second 70.3 is going to feel strangely like the road to the first 70.3 – nothing short of horrific sacrifice and pain.  
Bunch of masochists… triathletes.

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