St.George 70.3

Dad did it again. He signed up for the half Ironman. Which meant we got to do the IronKids run the night before. Iva got to participate for the first time.

We made sure she carb loaded....

Oh and of course lets throw in our Super Hero pictures from school. Because we looked AWESOME

Aha! Gearing up for the race!

Iva got to start first since she was the shorter distance.

Finished! She did it in jelly shoes to boot!

Here I come! I had to run the mile and I was HOT!

Cara was not to far behind me.

HOOOOOOTTTTT

That's better!

Our school was holding a swim party for the teachers to say "thank you" and we rushed over to help at the end. We didn't have swimsuits, but did I mention we were hot?

The next morning....we sent Dad out for his race at a crazy early time....especially because he was one of the last waves that got to start the swim. The day was expected to have crazy winds and so they luckily bumped up start times almost a half an hour!

We made it downtown with enough time to watch the winners cross (which is always fun) and then we began our wait.

We filled our time with splash pad fun and walking to get to lunch at Iceberg!

And then we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

We had seen Dad transition from bike to run at a pretty decent time, not his best, but not bad. But he just wasn't coming back!

We kept waiting and Mom started stressing. We started getting whiney. Finally a random number called Mom's phone and she knew it couldn't be good. Gratefully it was actual Dad calling. He was a couple miles away from the finish line and he was spent. He was calling to apologize for how long it was taking him, but the way he phrased it made it sound like he was done and Mom was just trying to convince him to keep moving. It turns out he was just calling to let us know he was alive,  he didn't mean to make it sound like he was quitting. Laughable moment now, but then, Mom made us all run up the course to meet him and drag his butt to the finish.

So that's what this photo is. Us running along in our flip flops trying to kick our Dad's butt.

He gained some momentum and beat us to the finish, but barely. (Just kidding.)

Even though it was his roughest finish and most definitely his slowest time, he was the most coherent and movable after this race. He was smiling and talking and walking.

We are still crazy proud of him. He went 70.3 miles with wind making the downhill not a downhill. GO DAD!