The TriZathlon
That’s what we call it in the Z family. TriZathlon. Everything is better with a little Z in it, right? Quite frankly, not so. I don’t care how many Z’s you put in Triathlon, I’m not sure it will ever make it better. But, as I set the goal to do earlier this year, I DID finish. And my bum hurts. I think it should be against the law to make bikes with any seat other than one like this:

The TriZathlon is a little non-traditional in that we run, bike, and then swim. The Z’s live in the heart of Box Elder County farm country, so while we could opt to swim in irrigation canals, we prefer the high school pool, which doesn’t open until 10:00….and it’s too hot by then to run and bike after the swim. The route boils down to this:
- Run 2 corn fields to the west and then turn north.
- Run (or, by this time in my case, walk) 1 barley field, one saflower field, and two more corn fields to the north and then turn east.
- Run (still walking here) 8 corn fields to the east, and be sure to pull to the side so you don’t get run over by that tractor, who is quickly gaining speed on you. Turn south.
- Run (picking up the pace now, but only because the in-laws are gaining on me) 2 corn fields, one wheat field, and one weedy-looking-crop field south and turn west.
- ALMOST DONE (with the run anyway). As soon as you reach the starting line, jump on your bike and follow the same route until you get to a fork in the road. Go left and ride for eons longer on seriously bumpy roads.
- Repeat step number five until your hind end falls off, at which point you’ll know you’re halfway done.
- If you forgot to take a Claritin at 5:30 this morning when you got out of bed, the joke’s on you! Keep riding!
- As you approach the end of the last lap of the bike, watch out for 4 small children, walking their sheep on leashes. If their dog chases you, feel free to kick it out of your way. Take extra caution not to ride through the sheep dung trailing behind them on the road.
- Here it comes….the finish line! You know, the place with everyone cheering for you? You might be tempted to slow down, but don’t give in because this really isn’t the finish line…you’ve still got about a mile to go. BWHAHAHAHAHA!
- Just when you think you can’t pedal any longer, you’ll stop in the middle of the road, where no one is cheering for you, and that’s where the finish line is.
Who made up #9 anyway? Curse them!
And that, my friends, will take you through the first 2/3rds of the TriZathlon. It’s all true too…I kid you not (except that the tractor lapped me twice). The only thing I’d change about my experience would be to take a little camera with me to prove that it’s all true, because I know you think I’m jesting a little.
Another non-traditional aspect of the TriZathlon is that we get a nice long break between the run/bike and the swim….because, as you now know, the pool doesn’t open until 10:00. And we started running at 6:00. The true purpose of this break is to tempt you to sit down….those who do are far more likely to never get back up, making the odds of winning better for everyone else. I didn’t eat before we started (was I supposed to? nobody told me.), so rather than sitting down, I stuffed my face with bananas, poppy seed muffins, and a donut or two (ok, four). I also took a shot of Mona Vie, which Aunt Denise told me would magically make my sore bum go away. She lied. Well, OK…maybe I misquoted her. If nothing else, it had quite the kick to it, which woke me right up.
Much too soon, we headed to the pool. I was in the last heat (the one for the slowpokes). I don’t have much to say about the swim other than that I DID NOT DROWN!! Given that the last real lesson I had in swimming took place when I was about 4, and that I feel extremely claustrophobic with my face in the water, it’s truly a miracle that I completed 20 lengths in that pool.
Overall, I came in 2nd to last….just barely ahead of my mother-in-law. I honestly have no idea what my time was. I don’t really care. Finishing was the goal, and the fact that there were 5 particpants over the age of 50, and all but one of them creamed me didn’t bother me one bit. Did I have fun? Not really. But, I didn’t die, and that’s all that really matters. I’d say that Emmy’s face in this my-parents-are-so-mean-to-drag-me-out-of-bed-so-stinking-early-in-the-morning-even-though-I-do-it-to-them-every-other-day-of-the-week shot sums it all up for me:

Next year, I think I’ll go back to being a cheerleader rather than a participant. There’s no doubt, my bum will really thank me.
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