Before.

I was going to wait until I had all the pictures to upload before posting but I decided that since it's 11pm-ish and I cannot for the life of me get to sleep, I'll start writing about my Austin Triathlon experience.

Saturday K and I drove down to Austin, did the football game thing at the alumni center, then crashed pretty early. Sunday was a flurry of activity, what with first attending the tri expo at the Hyatt in the morning to which I didn't wear any workout clothes or spandex and therefore felt rather inadequate. I wish I had taken a picture. The number of fit, muscley, spandexed individuals in one room before 10am was almost too much. I picked up my race packet and threw my bike in the back of the car instead of turning it in because we were going to be late to District 9 which was at once intense, depressing, and fabulous. I finally got my bike turned in after lunch where I ran into Kate & Ian and got my bike lock cut off (yes, I lost the keys. Surprised?). Then, K and I hit Amy's Ice Cream and Waterloo Records, where I checked out the new Gomez and Paolo Nutini but didn't actually commit.

Sunday night was the dinner at the Lance Armstrong Foundation in East Austin and short of Lance himself showing up (he didn't :(), it was a really amazing time. I saw his yellow jerseys, marveled at the minimalist, green construction of the building, totally chowed on some delicious pasta & lasagna, and was moved to tears several times. The first was when the LAF folks played the Manifesto video. I was also sitting next to a woman who not only worked for the LAF but had survived cervical cancer THREE TIMES in her lifetime and was just so vibrant and wonderful to speak to. I was nearly in tears just because I was blessed by her being alive and having a nice conversation with me.

The speaker of the evening was an ex-Texas basketball player that has an amazing story and really brought things into perspective as to why I wanted to do this. My abuelo was heavy on my heart and mind this past weekend, because it's been about 10 years since he passed away from pancreatic cancer. He went to all my football games in high school and I found myself thinking that if he was still alive, he would've had a blast going to UT games. I would've bought him one of those classy Mexican burnt-orange button up T-shirts you can get at Co-op for his birthday and he would wear them to every game. He would've loved seeing Vince play, would have loved that the Spurs made it to the playoffs YET again. He would've loved. LOVED. Kyle, and vice versa.

I remember being in such shock when he died - at the same time my parents were getting a divorce and mom was still really sick, so after school when we would leave NB to go fret either at grandma's house or at a hospital, I would without fail pass out somewhere. Not like faint, but just be out like a light if I sat for a moment. Looking back, it really was shock, because I didn't cry at his funeral. I look back surprised I survived all of that. What I do remember is saying goodbye to him at the hospital for the last time, not thinking he could hear me, and the tears when he squeezed my hand. It's weird that he's been gone for almost 10 years.

Anyway, I think I made up for the crying this weekend. I'll put pictures up soon, I promise.

(next: the swim)