The Stud-man

We went to Myrtle Beach over Valentine's weekend for Quay's first marathon. He's been doing triathlons for almost two years now, but only sprint triathlons. Those last for about an hour. He's planning on doing his first ironman this November in Florida. That will last 11-12 hours. The swim will be two miles, the bike 112 miles, and then a marathon. So Quay, being the smart guy he is, decided maybe he should at least do a few marathons before the big ironman. His plan was to be under 3:30 and he ended up having a chip time of 2:39:47. He made it by 13 seconds! Quay said the first twenty miles were very easy, the next four were pretty bad and the last two were almost unbearable. He almost quit running during the last two but decided that if he had ran 24 miles, he could run two more. Personally, I don't know how he did it--I can barely run half a mile without hyperventilating! I think people who do ironmans and triathlons, and even marathons, have to have something inside them that doesn't mind putting themself through terrible pain. It's just not in me. I'm planning on trying to start running again after Sam gets here, but I hate it everytime I do it. Maybe if I keep at it, it won't be so bad.

It was pretty interesting traveling with an almost two year old. It's just funny to stop and take a step back and realize how different your days are when you have a toddler. I mean, everything we planned on doing revolved around Ava's schedule--when she needed to eat, her nap time, getting back to the hotel in time for bath to keep her on her schedule. We had a great time, and Ava was wonderful, with the exceptions of a few little tantrums. But she's hitting the terrible twos, so I guess that comes with her age. My parents went with us to Myrtle Beach--I wouldn't have been able to do it without them there. They helped us out so much--not to mention Ava loves having them around! Too bad Emily and Joe couldn't come.

Speaking of those tantrums, Ava has started having them more frequently now. I think she's at the point where she thinks she's telling us what she wants, but we don't understand her. She's getting to the point where she starts crying, then will either throw what's in her hands or will try to hit us if we pick her up or lead her away from where she's standing. Part of me feels really bad for her because she really thinks she's telling us what she wants, but the other part of me knows that we have to stop her if she's throwing things or hitting us. Poor Ava, I guess we'll get through this time together. :)