Tutu Triathlon?

The whole hot mess started on St. Patrick's Day.

My triathlon training partner-in-crime (Donna) and I had just finished a 10-mile bike ride. We were within spitting distance of an Irish pub, and despite the fact that we were beyond sweaty disgusting in our bike shorts and tops, we stopped in for a post-ride beer in celebration.

Even though it was only 2:00 in the afternoon, the place was already packed with party goers, wall to wall green. And of course, we looked terribly out of place.

We managed to score a table, and noticed three ridiculously cute 20 something Guinness Girls strolling around, wearing ultra-short green tutus, serving beers. 

At that exact moment, Donna and I looked at each other, and burst out in unison, "Tutus. We NEED tutus for our race."

We had a good laugh that turned into a "why not" conversation that turned into Donna scouring the Internet to find purple, green and white tutus to match our Leukemia and Lymphoma Society Team-in-Training jerseys, because ya know, if we are going to wear tutus and all, we, too, want to look ridiculously cute. 

Yesterday, just prior to an 18 mile ride at the Silver Comet Bike Trail, she proudly presented me with my tutu. 

I immediately fell madly in love with the absurdity of it all.

We wore those tutus all 18 miles. Some people looked at us and sneered. Some cheered us on. Some thought we were crazy.

I didn't care. And neither did Donna.

See, when you are 40 and you don't run and you are afraid of bikes and you are just learning to swim, but decide to do your first triathlon anyway, an Iron Girl nonetheless, you ARE crazy.

In times like these, it's important not to take yourself to seriously. The tutus are a reminder to enjoy the journey, have fun and that we are doing this because we wanted to, not because we have to.   

And, there are just so many other things in life that happen that we should take more seriously than ourselves. In the five short months I've been training for this event, a lot of serious has happened:

• Donna's husband very unexpectedly had a heart attack the day before our first open water swim (which, I'll be writing about for next week's column, btw).
• I was while riding my bike, separating my shoulder.
• My best friend's husband was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma and has already endured six grueling rounds of chemotherapy.
• And, just the other day, I celebrated my four year anniversary of my own cancer diagnosis. 

So, yes, I'll be wearing this ridiculously cute tutu during the race, living out loud, and enjoying every stroke, pedal and stride.