One of the charms of living near Green Valley and Paseo Verde Parkways—along with walking to the Henderson Symphony several times a year and taking the dog to Shakespeare in the Park—is being a few strong strides from the finish line of the annual Ironman 70.3 World Championship triathlon.
Each year my wife, our son and our trusty border beagle, Sundae, go out the night before the race and cross the finish line, just to see what it feels like without the 1.2-mile swim, the 56-mile bike ride and the 13.1-mile run. (Feels pretty good, actually.) The next morning, we head across the street once more, soaking up the pageantry of more than 2,000 athletes from around the globe and across the age spectrum as they laugh—or at least gasp—in the face of their own limitations. Every year, I leave inspired. This year I brought my camera so I could record the feeling.
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