I, on the other hand, would have never made it out of the pool

The thing about my husband us that he's dedicated.  Or some (I) might say stubborn.  Mule-headed. 

Before the race.

 But that behavior, while maddening a lot of the time, serves him well.

So that's why, when he told me he wanted to participate in a triathlon I knew that he was going to take it seriously. 

He was going to train.  And train.  And train some more.  He worked out twice most days, for an hour each time, running or biking or swimming.  We completely changed the way we eat, eliminating most foods that don't do us any favors - including, for the most part - beer.  And pasta.  And potatoes.  And cake.

We've both grown unnaturally fond of almond butter and kale.  But not together.  Mostly.  I think he made smoothies out of them a few times.

Transition area - where he started the bike ride.

He's lost 20-25 pounds and gained the ability to not only finish a triathlon, but also excel at it.

Beginning the bike ride.

The man placed second in his division.

Back from the bike ride.

Let me say that again - the man, my husband, who has never competed in a triathlon before - placed second in his division. 

He killed it. 

Setting off on the run.

I'm not one to be too mushy on here, mostly because I'm afraid it will come out sounding ridiculous and fake and whatnot.  But my husband is an inspiration.  I look to him for fitness advice and when I feel most like giving up and saying screw it, mostly when working out makes me feel like I'm never going to be in the type of shape I want to be in - I see him striving and running and working so hard to achieve something.  And I push myself a little harder.

Almost done!

(Recently I've discovered zuzkalight on youtube.  I love her and hate her all at once.  Also my sore muscles thank her.)
 

If you look closely you can see Christopher almost at the finish line. 
And that's Sebastian running after him.

And being at the event last Sunday and seeing all those other people who you can tell spend a lot of time trying to be the best they can be was amazing.

Of course, we celebrated that night with beer and cake. 

After the race.

And as a present to him I forgave him all those Sunday mornings he left me alone with the kids so he could train.

You are welcome, Christopher.

Accepting his trophy - which Sebastian is storing
in his bedroom next to his own soccer trophy.

(I'm ridiculously proud of him.)