T minus 13 days.    Running day.

This triathlon has me living outside my comfort zone.  I can look behind me and see my comfort zone right over there.   It looks so comfortable.  It’s a big fluffy couch and I want to plop back into it.   But, nooooo.   Instead I am engaging in water torture, having conversations with merwomen, taking my life in my hands every time I mount my bike with it’s one working brake (oh, I didn’t mention that little fact yet?  Yes, my bike has two brakes.  One works.  That means one doesn’t.  One brake doesn’t work.  How I have managed to avoid going a** over teakettle so far is beyond me), overcoming wardrobe malfunctions, running into a deer.  Today I ran into a deer.   A big deer.  A big, mean, snorty deer.  It was Peach vs. Deer.  Showdown in the middle of the woods.   Room for only one of us on the path.  Who would win?  Who could claim bragging rights?   Before my triathlon training  I would have backed down.  Before my triathlon training I would have realized that having a showdown with a deer is a very, very bad idea.    But things are different now.  Now I am living outside my comfort zone.

I have been outside my comfort zone before.   Ecuador, 2010.   A visit to my daughter who was studying abroad.

 So far, so good. Off the plane, make it through customs, get my luggage, walking towards the exit. Good, good, good. A uniformed man walking towards me. “Boleto, Señora,” he says.  Huh? I am in a Spanish speaking country.  I do not speak Spanish.   At all.  “Boleto,”   he says  again.  Then “ticket?”  He’s clearly dealt with a gringa before.  Oh, shoot. Laura told me about this…my baggage claim ticket. If I don’t have it they will think I am stealing this luggage. I can’t find it. Where did I put it??  I don’t have it.  I will be arrested. Laura will never know what happened… no one will ever see me again. “Americana!!” the one uniformed man yells and two more uniformed men come running over.  My heart is beating very rápido. I am digging in my bag, digging, digging, sweating, sweating.   Found it!! My ticket! Oh thank god.   I’m not going to waste away in a foreign prison. 

First step outside my comfort zone in Equador.   Small potatoes compared to what was to come.

 It is interesting to be in a foreign land and not know the language. You are at an extreme disadvantage.  You have no idea what is going on half the time.  This is how I operate on a regular basis but the whole not being able to read / speak thing  put me in whole new level in Equador.  One day Laura told me we were going to Mindo.  This meant nothing to me.  Mindo?  Ok, sure.  Let’s go.  Get in a bus.  Drive for two hours. Up.  Drive up for two hours.  It should have dawned on me sooner. 

 Mindo started out as a beautiful, peaceful, serene butterfly garden and hummingbird paradise.  Well, this is nice.  I like this.  Sitting amongst the colorful butterflies, enjoying the exotic flowers.   We leave the garden and stroll down the road.  Laura is looking at me a little funny.  We walk down a path and enter a clearing.  It is then that I see it.  It is then that I see the reason for Laura's guilty face.  The real meaning of Mindo.  And it isn’t butterflies and flowers.   The real meaning of Mindo?  Two words: Zip line.  aka:  extreme terror.  A ZIP LINE.   This is why we climbed straight up for two hours.  A clothesline.  We are going to be zooming down a clothesline ten thousand feet up in the air.

  They put the gear on me. I’m ok.  We walk over to the platform.  I’m still ok.   We get instructions from the guide… in rapid-fire Spanish. I am not ok.  Laura translates as fast as she can. What I hear is: “do this, don’t do that, do this, don’t do that.” I am going to die.   “Laura, I need a guide to go with me.” I have seen the guides hook themselves in with the little children to lead them on their ride.  “Mom, why are you freaking out now?”  Why am I freaking out now??  Maybe because I am in a rain forest in the middle of the Andes,  putting my life in the hands of gibberish speaking strangers, about to be hooked onto a tiny wire  so far above the earth I might as well be on the airplane that just flew overhead and I am expected to voluntarily leap off this platform.  I think that merits a freak out.   I stand there. Everyone is looking at me.  Waiting for me.   Wanting me to go.  How is it physically possible for my heart to be beating so violently yet I am not having a heart attack?  Because I think a heart attack would beat the alternative right now.  Ok. Breathe. Hook in. Try to stop shaking, it’s really, really not helping. Hang on for dear life and.......FLY.

Living outside my comfort zone in Equador.    

Triathlon training has me living outside my comfort zone once again.  That deer didn't stand a chance.