It's kind of amazing what the human body can do with a little dedication.  My friend Heidi lent me Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, where he describes running an ultra-marathon -- a sixty-two mile race -- during which he literally feels that his body is a machine, just going through the motions to get him to the finish line. 

As for me, a theatre and stage band geek has become a triathlete -- not a minor transformation.  I'm also amazed at my body's uncanny timing.  I am currently fighting a fairly nasty cold, complete with a runny nose, sore throat, and low-grade fever, but I am so very thankful that it came this week rather than last week, right before my race.  Maybe this is my body's way of letting go of all the stress I've put it through over the past few months -- my friend Erika tells me that it's fairly common for marathon runners to get sick right after their races.  I would chalk it up to picking up something during my dip in the Hudson, except that I know a handful of others who seem to be fighting the same cold this week (feel better, gang!), and none of them did the triathlon.  Whatever the reason, I thank you, magical machine, for waiting until after the tri.