When we moved to Colorado in 2005, one of our first purchases was a set of bicycles. I got a comfort bike, Kyle got a hybrid, and we started riding on the Cherry Creek trail.

Kyle had always been a recreational runner, and when he heard about the local rec center’s annual sprint triathlon, he decided to ramp up his swimming and sign up for the tri.

Honestly, I didn’t understand his enthusiasm until that clear, blue-skied September morning when the girls and I cheered him on through the transitions and across the finish line: “Go, Daddy! GO!”

I watched all the participants – anticipating their start, persevering through all three races, and triumphantly completing the course – and thought to myself, “Damn, that looks fun.”

I’m no athlete. Never have been. But after three years of watching Kyle and the other triathletes – including my father-in-law last year – last May, I told Kyle to sign me up.

I followed a training program, hitting the pool, the treadmill or track, or the trail nearly every day. I started early enough that I wasn’t panicked; in fact, I was astounded by my progress – particularly the cross-training benefits.

That Sunday morning a few weeks ago, I was ready. I was excited. I knew that I could handle the entire course, and that was my only official goal: just to finish.

Not only did I finish, I finished comfortably in the top half of all participants, and very nearly in the top third of all females. Not bad for a rookie, huh?

Friends of mine told me that I’d get the bug, that I’d want to keep doing triathlons – and they’re right. But not only do I want to get in shape for the triathlon season next year, I want to try bike tours and bike races, and 5K and 10K runs. I’m amazed by what I did – what I really wasn’t sure I could do.

Next up, the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure here in Denver on October 5. We’re putting together a Mile High Mamas team (better late than never!), so if you want to join the fun (no need to run – walking counts too!), let us know in the comments.