Sunday was the Las Vegas Rock ‘n Roll Marathon, a race I signed up to do but unfortunately could not participate in because of my increasingly annoying Achilles injury. The last time I updated you on the status of my feet, it was the left foot giving me grief while the right Achilles was intermittently tight. Now my left foot appears to have healed but the right Achilles has gotten worse. It’s now instantly tight and stiff when I start running and is stiff in the morning when I wake up and hop out of bed (morningtendon?). At first I thought I could still manage to do the half marathon, but after realizing that I wasn’t going to post a decent time and would just end up risking further injury, I begrudgingly opted out of doing the race entirely.(Believe me, eating a $135 race entry is a tough pill to swallow. I can only imagine what it’s like to get injured when training for an Ironman and watching your $600 entry fee get flushed down the toilet.)

Sorry for the slight delay in getting this to you, but for some odd reason flashing my finisher’s medal doesn’t get me out of doing my day job or paying my bills. An Ironman employee should really look into fixing that — completing the race should earn you “I Don’t Have to Do Jack Shit” status for a month (or at least a couple of weeks).

Around this time last year, I had driven up to Penticton, slept in a teenage girl’s room, rooted on my teammates, and got sucked into the excitement and craziness that is Ironman Canada. I had zero intention of signing up with Jason, but watching the spectacle and the support of the entire town and seeing wave after wave of various athletes (elite, beginner, big, small, old, young) finish motivated me to chase after that feeling and experience it on my own. And so I plunked down six hundred big ones and spent a year training for a full Ironman. Now, one year later, the race has finally snuck up on me. Damnit.

The Seafair sprint triathlon holds a special place in my heart because it’s the only race where I’ve consistently been not too sucky. I thought I’d recap my experience racing Seafair in 2008, 2009, and 2010. It’s a crowded sprint, but I always have fun doing it and will probably keep racing it for years to come.

Hey, check it out, it’s my 2010 Boise 70.3 race report! I know, I grumbled last year about how I probably wouldn’t do the race again due to a multitude of factors (crappy weather, annoying late start, double transition), but wouldn’t you know it, I found myself once again driving 8 hours to Boise for another year of crappy weather, the annoying afternoon start, and the double transition. I must be a glutton for punishment.