Mighty Scared

Last year about this time, I went on a fun girls weekend up to the mountains. We did a little biking, a little eating, a little singing, and a lot of drinking. It was very fun.

Late night, MightyB put on her cool Mighty Man sweatshirt. We all admired the race swag, as well as her ability to do the race. She rhapsodized about the beautiful course, and before long we had all agreed to do it. One day.

About the only smart thing I did that night was say that there was no way I could be prepared for a half by the fall of 2009. (This wisdom even after I broke a plate and tried to set the deck on fire.) 2010! we all agreed. 2010 would be our year for a half iron.

Over the subsequent months, wiser women than I backed out of said race or tried to make cases that either (1) drunken promises don't count or (2) they never really committed or (3) both of the above.

I kept talking a big game.

And then suddenly it was time to put my money where my mouth is.

I'm in no better shape than I was a year ago. I have no training plan nor do I even belong to a gym anymore. And I have yet to mention any of this to my husband.

So of course, I registered.

OMG! What have I done????

It will be fun.... right?!?!?!
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