My First Triathlon

I submitted the following essay to a contest for the 250 first timers in the triathlon I did on October 17th.

My First Triathlon
By Jennifer Montgomery, #579

For about 10 years I’ve been saying “I want to do a triathlon.” Ten years ago, that was during college. That was before marriage, before kids, before careers, volunteer work, multiple moves, multiple pets, multiple countries and multiple excuses for why I couldn’t take time to do a triathlon. During college is when I should have done my first triathlon, not just because making time to train would have been much easier, but because I could have gotten hooked then. I could have gotten hooked and been doing triathlons all this time, for me, while all my excuses carried on around me.

But I didn’t do my first triathlon back then and four months ago I found myself no longer the young athlete that I once identified myself as. I suddenly started identifying myself as the woman, wife and mother of two that I now am. While I LOVE with all my heart being this woman, I missed that young athlete that craved competition and pushed herself to go longer and faster with each swim meet, each track meet and each workout. Aerobics for housewives has just never really been my thing.

In July I Googled “Texas Triathlon” and a few clicks later found Try Andy’s Tri in Sugar Land, just 20 minutes down the road. I signed up, paid my money and it was done, I was doing it. Back in the pool I went, I could now justify bike rides without the kiddo trailer and hello running, it’s been a long time. The first time I ran three miles without stopping was just amazing and as I started feeling stronger in the pool and faster on my bike I began to think, I can really do this.

My husband kept telling me that I was nervous the week leading up to the race. Of course I was nervous, what was I thinking in doing this? Was I actually going to do this? The idea of getting up before the kids and driving 20 miles away before the sun even came up, well that seemed crazy. How would my household even function without me there to wake it up and get it moving. That’s my job, I turn on the lights…who is going to turn on the lights if I’m not there?

The night before the race I went over and over the race route in my mind, from start to finish. I’m seriously going to come in very last. The guy is going to be standing at the end with a cone in his hand and a look on his face that could only mean, “It’s about damn time!” There’s no way I’ll be able to run 3 miles at the end, after all that swimming and biking, no way. I worked really hard, I really tried to get to that point, but it just didn’t happen. Everyone is going to be passing me while thinking in their head, “Seriously, go back to the donut shop you apparently crawled out of and leave this racing business to the ones that can hang.”

Then the morning came and I got up, got dressed and pulled my family-mobile vehicle quietly into the street. The morning smelled so wonderful, the way the world only can when very few are up and about. I took some deep breaths and pulled out of my subdivision and hit the Grand Parkway bound for Sugar Land. As I closed in on the race site I started seeing more and more vehicles with bicycles attached to them. Then, all of a sudden, I didn’t feel so out of place. All that hard work, all that training, that should mean I deserve to be here, right?

I got my bike all set up an hour before the race was supposed to start and took a walk around to see exactly what I had gotten myself into. To my surprise, there were lots of people that looked, well, just like me. When I got back to my bike and still had 45 min. to kill before the race I heard a friendly voice come from the woman sitting down on the ground next to my bike. She asked me if this was my first time. Okay, so it’s totally obvious, yikes. She said her name was Kara and then she started, without prompting, assuring me that I would do great and that I was going to love it. We chatted all the way to starting line and she was a life saver. Not only did I finish the race, I beat my goal by more than ten minutes. It was an experience that I will never forget and the only regret that I have is that I didn’t do it sooner.

First Grade

Anyone that follows me on Facebook knows just how much I have been anticipating the start of school. I love my eldest child, but dear God, I can't take another full day of her attitude. My mom says it's normal...or at least it's normal in our family. I called my mom on Sunday after we made our SECOND attempt to buy Ryleigh new shoes for school. The second attempt, like the first, ended in me dragging her to the car because we could not agree on the type of shoes she was to get. She needs athletic shoes, plain and simple. And I don't want to spend more than $40 on them. Totally doable, except that on the first trip she would only look at the Lelli Kellys...an $84 pair of shoes. And why does she want the Lelli Kellys???...because they come with a play cell phone that has lipgloss in it. She knows this because she saw it on a commercial. The second trip to get shoes ended in the same manner because she only wanted the Twinkle Toes that lit up. I am not opposed to Twinkle Toes, which is obvious because she already had a pair of Twinkle Toes. They do not light up, but they do fit and so it is my firm belief that she does not need another pair. She disagrees, quite adamantly.


So, on the first day of school she got to wear her old Twinkle Toes, the ones with rhinestones missing on the toes. And to be honest, I don't think it bothered her as much as it bothered me. Mom says all kids are ungrateful and are never happy with what they get whether they get it all or they get very little. I don't know if I believe that but these arguments have left us lots of room to talk about gratefulness and the importance of it. I told her that if she shows me that she has learned how to be grateful this week we can go shoe shopping again this weekend and try again. Maybe this time at Academy where they have neither Lelli Kellys or Twinkle Toes.


At any rate, here are some great pics of her at a Girl Scout event last weekend and then first day of 1st grade.

Mexico in June

Last April my mother, in a moment of weakness, told me that she would be willing to watch my kids for three nights during the summer if Jeramy and I wanted to go somewhere alone. I immediately took to the Internet and booked two non-refundable plane tickets to Playa del Carmen, Mexico. This way, when she sobered up, she couldn't take it back. While my mother is a fantastic grandmother in so many ways, she generally only likes to be a fantastic grandmother in small doses, and preferably at my house where I am clearly in charge of changing all poopy diapers. Just to be fair, Jeramy's mom is the same way.

Of course, in order to take advantage of my parents' generous offer, we had to first drive our children 10 hours to their house and then fly out of Midland. Yes, my mom is still punishing me for being 17...for three years.

A trip to West Texas isn't all bad. First of all, I get to see my family. And then of course, there are the fried burritos from the gas station...best served at 2am after sitting under the heat lamp for minimum of 6 hours. Worth driving 10 hours for every time.

So, we headed west, Monahans bound with a one night stop in San Antonio so Jeramy and Ryleigh could ride a roller coaster at Sea World.

And then at last, Jeramy and I found ourselves sans children on an airplane, headed to Mexico. 8:30 in the morning?? Why that's bloody mary time. Layover in Houston? A couple of vodka tonics will get me through it just fine. Final leg to Mexico...white wine indeed.

Once we made it to Mexico we decided that it would just be way more fun to rent a car than to take a shuttle...and what else would two newly liberated parents do. And while were were at, we decided to ride in a style. Only a red convertible mini-cooper would do.

Once we were at the resort we had some dinner and commenced to behave like we didn't know better and imbibed an unknown amount of wine that night.

The next morning...oooooooo, the pain...what-was-I-thinking-I'm-never-drinking-again kind of pain. Room service was really the only option...room service and water....room service, water and Tylenol. And then finally, some relief. And then, we were off to the spa.

When we arrived at the hotel we booked a couple's massage and nothing, not even the hangover from hell, was going to keep us from our massage. And it was just really lovely. The best part was after the massage when my hubby and I just got to sit and stare out over the ocean and have a cup of tea together. The world sort of stopped and it was in that moment that I felt like I somewhere with my husband and only my husband.

Next on the agenda was to get two wicked sunburns. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you go to Mexico? Mine wasn't really that bad...but only because I am a woman, which means that I am not too manly to wear sunblock. My deal husband on the other hand...burned to a crisp. However, he totally recognized his stupidity and kept his complaining to a bare minimum.

The second full day we spent driving our little red convertible to Tulum. Tulum is a group of ancient Mayan ruins that would have been sooo much fun to walk around and see, if it wasn't 251 degrees outside. But it was indeed 251 degrees outside so we took in the highlights and then went for a swim in the ocean. Once we arrived back at the hotel we took a nap and then got dressed for our final night in Mexico.

The next morning I woke up yearning for my children. We turned our little red car in, got on airplane and headed home.

I would like to thank my mom from the bottom of my heart for watching our kids, it was a much needed recharge for us. And thank you to my husband for all his hard work which made the trip possible.


And here are the pics...

Drugs are Bad, Umkay?

I don't recall smoking crack but it must have happened because a few weeks ago I signed up and even paid $100 to take part in a sprint triathlon. A sprint triathlon is not a full triathlon but it is indeed going to kick my ass. Any race that involves 300m of swimming, 10 miles of biking and 3 miles of running really does not deserve to have the term "sprint" placed in front of it.

Why would I be so stupid as to sign up for such an event when I could have just enjoyed the crack and gone about my business? Well, number one I have always wanted to do one. And, number two, I am getting older and fatter every second and apparently that's not going to change so really, it's now or never.

I have begun my official training which means I get to work my butt off and not eat donuts from now until October 17th. I'm no stranger to working my butt off, I did it for 10 years while swimming competitively, I did it in preparation for my wedding and I did it while I was in Canada because there really are just so many hours a day you can stare out your window and hope a moose will walk by. A diet without donuts, now that's going to be the hard part.

I have a confession to make, and don't hate me, but I have never "dieted". Never done Adkins, Weight Watchers, Slim Fast, Jenny Craig or any other nonsensical exercise in self degradation. I just absolutely loathe any sort of program which involves creating for yourself an even greater obsession with food than when you started. Okay, I take that back... in college I was too poor to order desert, or an appetizer, or a drink other than water...or dinner most of the time so, instead I went home and had a few slices of not-really-lunch meat and went to sleep before I got hungry again...this proved to be an effective involuntary diet I suppose. That being said, my current regular diet is at least, decent. I eat lean cuts of meat and lots of fruits and veggies... I just balance it all out with plenty of cookies and ice cream.

But for this event, I've committed myself to a much more strict diet. No sweets, no adult beverages and no kolaches, pizza or barbecue until after I kick this race's ass. So, if you see me cheating, call me out. Remind me of what I have coming to me, of how hard it's going to be dragging that one extra donut across the finish line. I just think that if I'm going to do this thing, I might as well give it my all. See how good I can be and how fast I can finish because guess what....I read they're going to have donuts and pizza at the finish line.

Graduation Day

Since I get really bothered with those people that start the first post to their blog in months with the obvious, "Wow, Geeeze, I can't believe how long it's been since I've posted!"...I won't do that. Not at all, because it's obvious. You can see the dates and it's very plain, it's been several months, several busy months, since I've logged a post.

We are three weeks and a few days away from school starting and rather than recap a whole summer in one very long and boring post I'll start with this: Kindgerten Graduation. Our little girl, born on the 4th of July, 2004, is now a First Grader. Now, I'm not a sappy person. Ask anyone in my family, ask my husband, ask our beta fish and they will tell you, I'm not a sappy person and I don't cry easily. But two things have made me cry this summer as the mere thought of them come to the surfuce of my brain; one I will discuss in a future post and the other is the realization that Ryleigh is on her way in this world...*tears, sniff, sniff, tears*.

One day this summer she told that she knows more than I do. I was taken back by this observation as it took me until 6th grade to draw the conclusion that I knew more than my mother. Of course my mother agreed with me but to my daughter I asked "What's the sqare root of 16?" When she couldn't answer I told her to keep learning more stuff, she might catch up when I'm 80 and decide that the era of non-stop donut eating has entered my life.

She is a bright girl though and loves to sit around and write out math equations but really hates to read. She loves to be read to, just doesn't seem to have the patience it takes to tackle the whole sounding out of words thing. The thought of having a child that doesn't get the joy of reading is frightening to me. I love to read and always have. However, if she keeps it up with the math...and the Geograhpy...and the current events...and the science and all the other things that do highly interest her, she just might be able to make it in this world. And then maybe at some point, when she can learn to read the good stuff, you know, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men...Twilight, she will catch on to this reading thing and be just as much of a smart-ass dork as her mother.

Graduation Day:

Going to Sheboygan...Part 1

For some reason, or because Sara Z. made me think it would be a good idea last October, we decided it would be a great idea to do a 17 day driving trip around the United States....with the children. So we told our friends in Chicago, Sara and Kalman, that we wanted to come up for a visit. They told us to come on and even said we could bring little tornado #1 and little tornado #2! AND, in an attempt to be the coolest friends ever, they offered to take us up to their lake house in Sheboygan, Wisconsin on Michigan Lake. Then we asked my mother in law in Nashville if she would mind a visit from us and the grandbabies and she said "I would love to have the kids come visit...wait, where are you guys going?"..."We're going to stay with you too Pam"...and she said "Oh, yeah, that would be great, I will need someone to change Avery's diapers."

So a trip started to take shape and here is how it got planned out:

Night 1: Texarkana, TX
Night 2: Queen Wilhelmena State Park Lodge in Arkansas
Night 3: Memphis, TN
Night 4&5: Nashville, TN
Night 6: Lexington, Kentucky
Night 7: Indianapolis, Illinois
Night 8-12: Chicago/Sheboygan
Night 13: St. Louis, Missouri
Night 14 & 15: Arltington, TX


A trip like this takes lots of planning, for anyone that ever dares to be so bold. We decided early on that we couldn't afford to eat out every mean so we packed an ice chest and vowed to eat out of it for lunch every day that we possibly could and to do breakfast out of it too if the hotel didn't offer a free breakfast. So we packed our bags, packed our truck and hit the road. I'm going to try and break up this post into several parts because there is so much to tell and so much we want to remember. I'll post a link to the pics at the right though.

We drove to Texarkana stayed the first night night. On the way we swung through Lufkin where I got to see a parking terminal that was a project of mine back when we lived in Bryan. I left the job a few months before it was complete so it was really cool to see the final version. Our first visit to Texarkana was pretty much what expected. We stayed in a nice, new Hampton and enjoyed dinner at Olive Garden. Not much to do or see in Texarkana so we were up and away on day two.

On day two we drove from Texarkana to Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas and searched for diamonds. When we arrived the weather was nice with a remnants of a recent rain. This is supposed to be prime diamond hunting condidtions as the diamonds are burried in a thick mud and you have to sift through the mud to find the diamonds. When it rains, it washes away the top layer of mud and is supposed to reveal new diamonds. The park tills the soil every now and then to aid in the process. There is nothing clean about searching for diamonds here, but it is the only place in the world where you can search for diamonds and keep what you find for the bargain price of the $8 admission fee. At first we attempted to walk across the field in our shoes. This didn't work so well because the mud just accumulates on your shoes until each foot weighs 20 lbs. This was especially hard on the girls. At this point we decided to go hard or go on down the road. We took the girls' shoes off and told them to just have fun in the mud. Then Jeramy and I filled a 5 gallon bucket with mud and headed to the water station to sift through our bounty. The pictures really say it all, the girls had a blast getting all muddy and dirty and Jeramy and I got to look at rocks and minerals. A magical day for everyone indeed. We didn't find any diamonds, only some quartz and mica. So after we decided it wasn't our lucky day we all got washed up at the water power blasting station and then went for a swim in a nice little water park that was in the State Park. After changing clothes we were off to our final destinatin for the day, Queen Wilhelmena State Park in Arkansas.

The lodge we stayed in was originally built in 1897 and was situated on top of a mountain. The girls got to do a little train ride around the top of the mountain. We had expected to be able to do some hiking at this park, but there had been some bears sighted close by so all trails were closed. We had a pretty decent southern style dinner which included a dessert buffet that would have put the ol' church potluck to shame. Amazing bunch of homemade, old fashioned desserts. The kids didn't even like any of it...but bring on the chess and buttermilk pie baby! The lodge was old, but very clean and we got a good night's sleep before setting out the next day towards Hot Springs, Arkansas.

Why I Am a CASA

I just saw this story on CNN.com. It's so sad, so tragic, soooo pointless. Some of the abuse situations that we learned about in CASA training were just unbelievable. It is just amazing what some people of capable of doing to their own precious, defenseless and very fagile children. And really, for what? I don't understand the payoff that comes from beating a child.

I am so very happy that I have been blessed with the opportunity to be a part of my CASA child's life. She is an amazing girl with so much to offer this world. She is destined for great thing and it was just awesome to watch her first move physically into a safe and nurturing home and now emotionally into a safe and nurturing space. I look forward to watching her grow and succeed for many years to come.

If you live in Ft. Bend county and are interested in becoming a CASA, there is a week-long training session in August...you can check it out at www.cafb.org.

Don't live in Ft. Bend county? CASA is everywhere! Just google it to find your nearest CASA organization.