These next few days will be my figurative morning after.
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This weekend launched a new year of triathlon in fine desert style.
After a less-than satisfying performance last month, I had a bone to pick with 20k of flat, fast pavement.
I'm a big girl now. At least when it comes to the bike.
If I don't come last, I'm going to treat myself to another Mexican pig cookie from Dos Palmos bakery.
I'm not bitter. Just hungrier than ever for a sub-29.
Finishing an Ironman—a day spent swimming 2.4 miles, cycling 112 miles, and running 26.2 miles— is an achievement worth commemorating with words beyond status updates.