So That's Why I'm Tired (The Tale In Pictures)

Just when I think I'm over the whole race picture thing, some decent shots come through and the narcissist in me takes over. These pictures, from the Lone Star Quarter, also give a hint why my body is so cooked after training through this effort.



Swim exit: note how the Greyhound is HOOFING IT up the ramp with one leg totally flying behind and ripping the swim cap off. Running from the water is atypical for the old dog.





Another of the swim exit: note here how both of Greyhound's feet are airborne as he motors with superhero like speed to the strippers. Wetsuit strippers, that is. In Houston, you have to be more specific. Note also that way in the background is another swimmer with the same color cap as Greyhound. Again, atypical.








And here is Greyhound screaming out on the bike, banking, standing and hammering out of a turn. Banking: an indication of speed perhaps? Who knew?







And hammering along the sea wall to get back to transition. Note the red face and bulging veins. This is what 24 mph in the wind looks like. Who is that guy and what have you done with Greyhound?








Running off the bike at faster than 8 minute pace in the heat. Who the hell are you, and where is the mushy, suburban dad who got winded at kiddie soccer practice? (Oh, and Bolder, note the forefoot strike).






And finishing: again, both feet going airborne with high knee lift. Who knew this old dog could motor?

All kidding aside, I wish I had some "before" photos from four or five years ago. Although I was never huge, I was way soft and 30 pounds heavier than this. No ink. No arms. No quads. Mushy belly. I am not the same guy. And the biggest changes are not in my body, but between my ears and in my heart.

Wildflower awaits.