Early to bed, early to rise

It's before 7 p.m. I should go to bed, but I know if I do I'll only stare at the ceiling for a good 45 minutes to an hour. That's if I'm lucky. I just know I'll still see 9:00.

My husband came home, opened his mail, talked to me for a bit while I was still sautéing some veggies for my dinner, checked his phone, set the alarm for 3 a.m. and got ready for bed.

I won't be able to wake up with him because I'm still awake now.

This new lifestyle is already challenging, and it honestly hasn't truly begun. It's so hard to reprogram myself when a) bedtime was anywhere from 10 p.m.-12 a.m. and b) I am NOT a morning person--I will maim anyone blocking the path to the coffee maker.

Mornings are our time together now, and I'm not entirely on board yet. After Devin's workouts for the day, he does make me a hot breakfast, so that's something to look forward to. Sure beats grabbing a granola bar before flying out the door.

This morning I DID have to pry myself out of bed before 4 because Devin was only going to the gym for a swim; he would do the run on our treadmill at home. So, in an effort to complete 1.5 miles before he came home, I managed to challenge myself today.

**Side note: I am not a runner. My mom has always compared my efforts to that of a turtle. It's not far from the truth.**

After warming up a bit at 3 mph and doing a brisk walk at 4-4.5 mph for several minutes, I turned the speed up to 5-5.5 and somehow, through the panting and feelings of desperation, I kept that pace for an entire half mile in just under 6 minutes.

Please stop laughing now.

It hurt. I was dizzy. I cooled down, finished up the last few minutes to hit my 1.5 mile goal for the day and crawled upstairs toward the coffee that I had set to brew earlier. I was cleaned up, dressed, browsing social media and on my second cup before Devin walked in the door. And then he ran for probably an hour. Talk about a natural...showoff.

Other than breakfast, getting-ready time is really the only reward I can so far identify in this journey. Even if I don't get up until 4:30 or 5, I can still allot myself more time in the morning than I had been doing.

One thing's for sure: I'm still not a morning person, no matter how good the breakfast is.

Do I call?

“I want to do an Ironman.”

I don’t remember the details or the moment he said those words, but I remember it happened. Let me try to put myself back in that day. He looked me straight in the eye and basically asked my permission to do something he’s been dreaming to achieve. An item on his bucket list. But an Ironman? Really?

A lot of husbands might approach a request to their wives with, “Hey, fixing that car just might not be worth it; I already have a new one in mind,” or “So, a new grill would be great this summer…” But, no, not mine. He wants to suffer. What’s more, he’s going to take me down with him. I just know it!

This was last July. We have since nested in our new home, married and hosted our first Christmas. Now that 2014 is here, the test has come. Can I possibly support this? I said I would, no matter what. I’m only now beginning to understand the sacrifices I will have to make along the way over the next 28 weeks while he trains. Devin is already doing some work to prepare for the structured regimen he intends to follow.

The competition will be an inaugural event in Boulder, Colorado, this August. That’s not far away. We’ve been to Colorado once before, and I enjoyed it, but this time, on race day, I will be alone for about half the day. Watching. Waiting. Wondering. Maybe shopping (don’t judge me). I’ve seen him compete in triathlons and other races before, but nothing this extreme. I’m concerned, yet I’m proud to know someone who is brave enough and disciplined enough to take on such a training plan and grueling journey that will take him through Colorado waters and roads to a finish line that few get to cross.

It’s nice to have a light at the end of this tunnel, and there’s talk of spending some extra time near the mountains as sort of a getaway. Every “vacation” we’ve taken has been rushed over a weekend, usually combined with a holiday to allot that extra day of travel. But we’ve never gone away together for an extended amount of time that required any time off work. Not even a honeymoon yet.

For now, I don’t know how this is going to work. I don’t know how hard it will be for him. I don’t know how hard it will be for me. He's all in. Will I be able to support him, or will the required energy and sacrifices along the way prove too much?