In which I try out my new "foot condoms" in a race and Jeff enters the triathlon scene.

My title is slightly scandalous and by scandalous I mean any word that would make me blush before I got married - I was really sheltered growing up.  Jeff calls my Vibram Five Fingers foot condoms because they keep running safe for my naked feet :).   Today was Jeff's first triathlon and my first in about 3 years.  Triathlons are just my style - you get to change what you are doing three times, it's great for someone who's attention span can sometimes be mistaken for a squirrel's.   I was deliriously happy the whole time; I thanked every volunteer gushingly as I passed and encouraged every participant that I was near for more than ten seconds.  It was awesome, though I may have come off as a the chatty athlete on excessive amounts of caffeine who mistook a triathlon for a competition for 'Miss Congeniality'.  But no, I was just really that happy.   I recall in the running portion that paralleled a brook exclaiming delightedly, "Ooo!  Swans!" to no one in particular.  I'm sure the swans appreciated the attention though.   Not that I've never seen a swan before, but that everything, even a large white semi-common bird in a not-so pristine section of a shady brook seemed positively fantastic.

I won't speak for Jeff, but I think he had a pretty good time too, though I think he came off as a much more normal participant.  Since the men and women start at different times, we only saw each other in passing, but it was pretty awesome to see your best friend and husband out there on the course just makin' it happen.  Aw yeah.  

But back to the foot condoms.  They were great.  They kept my feet nice and safe, and besides the knee that is currently recovering from a super tight IT band, my body enjoyed the ride.   Once again, I felt lighter, more connected to the ground and more aware of my body, my stride and my surroundings.   And they contributed to the euphoria, so they get an encouraging if half-crazed pat on the back and a "Great Job!" from a post-race Amy.