Are u inspired?

I was asked this last night after a day spent watching the Ironman 70.3 Galveston.

"Are u inspired?"

The short answer is yes. 

The long answer is hell yes. 

But I can hear the voice of my friend/coach/resident badass Tanya when I think of how she would say, "What you gonna do about it?"

Random guy running to transition after the swim

You see, I'm really good at throwing down the gauntlet. I've done it like at least a hundred times before. 

I'm gonna lose weight.
I'm gonna be vegetarian.
I'm gonna workout 5 days a week.
I'm gonna wake up and go running.
I'm gonna stop drinking.
I'm gonna be raw vegan, or vegan, or vegan-ish.

This list continues on and on.  Earlier this year I declared 30 pounds for my 30th birthday. And thus far I've lost and gained somewhere  around 7lbs. And I'm basically at the same place I was Jan. 1. 

So what are you gonna do about it....

Swim start...well as close as spectators could be to the swim start.

The Ironman this weekend was nothing short of inspiring.  I wanted to go to support Tanya and the rest of my TNT pals, but I also wanted to go to watch the race.  To watch these extraordinary athletes push their bodies to the limits to do almost impossible things.  I wanted to see it up close in person.  If I'm going to watch my first tri, might as well be a Ironman. 

Tons of bikes at transition

The elites did not disappoint. But what I didn't expect to feel, is the feelings that the everyday people didn't disappoint either.  The MOST inspiring part was seeing the people who are probably sit at 9 to 5's all day and on this day are crazy beast-mode athletes.   The people who got in right before the cutoff.  The straggler who looked like shit toward the end, but can still say they completed a 70.3 at the end of the day.

But I digress, about badass Tanya. 

Race morning..how did I do all this without coffee

Tanya doesn't like that I call her that, but she is in fact a badass.  Somewhere along all these crazy endurance events I do Tanya has been there for me, coaching me through Hawaii and Vegas.  And even though she wasn't there, San Diego and MS150.  I mean lets be real, I don't remember much of Hawaii training season.  I'm really good a blocking about horrible decisions I make, which includes attempting a century starting at a zero fitness level, no road bike and making about 2/3rds of the practices.  I know I rode with Tanya several times during the training, but I don't remember most of it. 

However there are a few parts of Hawaii I remember vividly. 

-Going up heartbreak hill and thinking 'fuck it' and walking.  And I remember Tanya coming up behind me saying something along the lines of 'I know that isn't Brittani walking up the hill!!"And me thinking fuck...of all the people to be behind me...Coach Tanya.

-Somewhere in the last 20 miles or so when I rode with her and she talked about the ride next year.  I remember my response being somewhere along the lines of 'There's no way in hell I'm doing this shit again'

-And then clearly I forgot all that again because I remember deciding to do Vegas at the TNT happy hour the next spring, shortly after my grandma has passed away.

So it was definitely role reversal for me to be the spectator cheering her on this weekend.  And I kinda got it.  Because I couldn't have been more proud of my friend when she crossed that finish line about 6 hours after she finished that swim and I saw the look of Holy Shit on her face.

note - that swim did warrant that look.  It totally looked terrifying.

I've never been concerned about Tanya in a endurance event, but for a moment there my faith was a little rattled.  But after that, when we saw her on the bike

and the run, she looked like her normal self and I knew it was just a matter of time...seriously these Ironman 7+ hour events are no freaking joke.

So totes proud of my badass (own it!) friend and coach, and inspired to do something more.

Crossing the finish...like a boss.

So what you gonna do about it Brittani?

I'm not entirely sure yet....but Go Team.

Jesus be a disco nap.  Spectating is hard.