One Place off the Podium!

Now I know I said this blog is for writing about life with all my boys, but all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I have to do something for myself, and heck, tell it to the world!

A beautiful morning at Mooloolaba the other weekend saw me compete (I fell quite odd using that word) in the 1000m Ocean Swim. Did it last year, with the swell at its cyclonic best, and thought I'd give it a stab again. Water temperature was gorgeous, a bit of a gutter and a few exposed rocks underfoot, and a lovely little bodysurfing swell to ride in. Came out at the halfway mark (an M-shaped course meaning you have to find your land legs and stumble/run so elegantly around a marker on the beach before heading back out again) VERY huffy-puffy, thinking "I don't usually feel like this, this isn't so much fun after all, God I have to swim all that way AGAIN oh geez why do I do this?". Swam obediently in following other pink caps, and, like I've seen the Ironpeople do on the telly, stood and paused for a nice wave to carry me in, because I was quite knackered (work smarter not harder I heard someone say and it applies to more than housework!). Did my best to run to the finish line, after waving to my cheer squad with their flag made of a bamboo stick and a piece of green crepe paper (somebody is resourceful ;)) and had the very short-lived feeling of doing a bomi (Street-speak for vomit). Didn't think anything more of it until my darling Husband (yes that still sounds a bit funny to me too) looked up the results at home later that afternoon, and announced with a healthy dose of pride and excitement in his voice "One place off the podium, Miss Sarah!"

Well I felt like doing a Victory Jig. Might have to install a Victory Bell on the back deck for future moments like these. Quite chuffed with myself. And if you're still figuring it out, I came fourth.

And that's enough skiting for today.

Nonnight.