I don’t do race reports cause who cares about how I felt during a race… I guess, some people might. But I do want to write something as a way to honor the memory of my mom who passed away two weeks ago.

There was a time in my life I was extremely active. I used to call it my “Retirement Era” – then I got divorced. At that time I was training for a half Iron Man, but emotionally, I couldn’t deal with everything going on and I stopped working out for a while. A long while. Still, every now and then, I’d go for swim or I’d go for a run, but I would never ride my bike. I hated the bike I had.

My bike was big and heavy, and I knew it worked, but I always wanted a pink bike. The husband always said no, so I never got a pink bike. Anyway, at the time we bought the bike I had, it worked for what I needed – until one day I became interested in triathlons. I still used that bike for my races, but after my divorce, I just hated it with all my guts. I still have it in my garage. I may need to use it for something one day so I won’t throw it away, but I hate it.

Have I mention that I hate that bike? LOL!

So this past year, I began swimming again. I decided to sign up for a triathlon, I love swimming in open water. All triathlons I was interested in were on Saturdays and I was coaching XC. The only available was the Oil Man Sprint. So I signed up.

I joined my triathlon club again and went on a ride with the bike I hated, and then I hated it even more because I got hurt. It wasn’t the bike’s fault. I decided to ride 20ish miles after not riding a bike in 3 years, so my elbow got really messed up and I needed to stop swimming and biking for about 8 weeks – not to mention I had to go to an orthopedist and the visit cost my half a kidney!

So I told my mom about my elbow, my adventures, and how much I hated my old bike. I began telling her about this pink bike I always wanted, and I told her that maybe one day, it would be on sale. I was just day-dreaming telling her about my races. I think I kept going back and forth for about month, wondering if I should buy the bike I always wanted. After the elbow episode, I realized that bike would never fit me right, it never did, it’s just that at the time I bought it, I knew nothing about bikes (I still don’t, but you know…). My mom told me, “Buy yourself your bike. I will pitch in. I will come and visit for Christmas and I will give you cash.”

I still did not buy it. I felt guilty spending money on something like that. It felt wrong. But my mom, over the course of 8 weeks in which I couldn’t run or swim, somehow convinced me to spend my HSA money on the bike – on the promise that she would pitch in. And now she’s gone. I know dark humor is not for everybody, so please allow me to grieve my own way.

I braved not swimming with my wet suit and I’m glad I didn’t. The water was perfect. The bike was windy and hilly, but I thought of my mom all the time while I was riding my bike. I felt happy. I felt happy I had listened to her and spent all my HSA savings on the bike.

I wish I could call her or text her a photo of me and my bike today. She did see my bike. She knew I had gotten the bike in the end. My bike is pink, and it matches my shoes, and it matches a wet suit designed years ago when I miscarried a baby. I was training for Galveston 70.3 back then. There’s a quote in the back, usually attributed to Spurgeon, that reads, “I have learned to kiss the waves that throw me up against the Rock of Ages.”

I was very sad yesterday, the weekends without the kids were the time when we would call… but I did have to do the race even though I didn’t feel like it.

Nutrition? Strategy? Nope. I just had a jelly sandwich, and a coffee at 4:30 am. I ate a gel after the swim and I stopped to drink water once. Slowly, but surely, I finished. During the run, I said, “Ok, Lord. This is for my mom. I won’t stop. I will jog as slowly as I need, but we’re not stopping.” I ran zero miles in the last month. I need to exercise my core and strengthen my hips, though.

Honestly, I never think about anything during a swim. I passed several people floating on their backs. I was just like, “Where’s the next buoy?” During the bike leg, I thought all the time about my mom. I was happy riding my bike. She told me one day she was proud of me for going back to the things I loved doing. I was very happy riding my bike. I did not hate one single minute of that ride even though it was hilly and windy.

The run… it was pure heart at the end. I slowed down to drink water once, but I never stopped.

I miss my mom. And I love my bike. So now every time I ride my bike, I will think of my mom and smile when I ride.