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rocksinmuffin · 1 year

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just realized you write for twst!! may i request some more ace and deuce being jealous bc their best friend / crush is being courted by a literal fae prince and smh they just can’t compete with that

God thank you so much you are the first (and so far, only) person to request Twisted Wonderland and this is exactly my shit 😤

~*~

Ace would never admit it to anyone, but he considers Deuce a rival.

Not when it comes to studies. Deuce is dumb as a sack of bricks. And, sure, most of the time Ace’s grades aren’t much better, but that’s just because he’d rather not waste any time studying. If he ever put any effort into his classes, he would be fine. Deuce actually tries and he’s still in the bottom of their class.

He doesn’t consider him a rival when it comes to sports, either. Deuce is probably more athletic than Ace is, but they just don’t share the same interests. Because Ace likes cool sports like basketball while Deuce is content to focus on track. It’s hard to be upstaged by a guy just running in big circles.

But when it comes to love? Well…

There’s nothing more pathetic than the way Deuce stares you down like a lovesick puppy whenever you aren’t looking. He’s so obvious about it! The way his expression gets so soft and how his fingers twitch like he wants to reach out and hold your hand but is way too much of a coward to actually do anything. It’s irritating. Especially when you speak to Deuce in a softer tone than you ever do with him. Your gentle encouragements are nothing like the playful barbs you exchange with Ace. Not that Ace would ever trade your back-and-forth for anything but would it kill you to be that sweet with him every once in a while?

And maybe some of Ace’s irritation is colored by the fact that he also has feelings for you but Ace thinks that even if he didn’t have a crush on you it would still be annoying.

Still, rivalry aside, Ace knows that Deuce has his back when it really matters. And right now, there’s a bigger threat vying for your affection than the two of them combined.

Ace has no idea how you even met Malleus Draconia. As far as Ace is aware, the guy usually has himself holed up within Diasomnia’s dorms most of the time and, when he isn’t, he’s got a whole entourage of bodyguards glaring at anyone who so much as sneezes in the Prince of Briar Valley’s general direction. Well, to be fair, Sebek is the only one ever glaring, but the point still stands. How you managed to get close to the guy is a mystery.

And there’s no denying you are close. The two of you might just be talking—and no matter how hard Ace strains his ears and stares at your mouth as if he’ll suddenly learn how to read lips, he still can’t manage to make out what the two of you are saying—but everything about Malleus’ body language broadcasts his interest.

It’s the way his shoulders loosen up, much more relaxed than the stiff and rigid way he carries himself in public. It’s the way the corner of his lips tilt upward whenever you speak when the only other smiles Ace has ever seen from the guy were thinly-concealed threats. It’s the way his eyes soften around the edges as he looks at you like you’re his whole world.

Ace knows that look. He’s caught Deuce giving you that look enough times to recognize it for what it is. He’s given you that same look so many times there’s no way he could misinterpret the love and desire and affection of that gaze.

Ace’s only saving grace is that you’re as oblivious to Malleus’ feelings as you are to everyone else’s. If you ever did find out, it would be game over. Because how is anyone supposed to compete with a literal prince? It’s not fair.

Lucky for Ace, he’s never been one to play fair in the first place.

Ace steeples his hands under his chin as he schemes, eyes on you. You’re so dense you’d never figure out Malleus likes you unless he confesses. And he can’t confess if you’re too distracted to give him the time of day.

Ace glances over to Deuce. Deuce is chewing on his bottom lip, eyes hardened and fingers digging into his lap. He looks like he wants to start a fight with Malleus but—for once in his life—he’s smart enough to know that’s a fight he can’t win.

Deuce only looks away from you when Ace nudges him in the arm. Deuce glares. Ace shrugs his head in your direction. Deuce raises an eyebrow then nods his head in understanding. No words are exchanged. None are needed.

Ace rears back and aims a punch for Deuce’s jaw at the same time that Deuce’s fist makes impact with Ace’s right eye.

They aren’t scuffling for long before Ace can hear your voice screaming in his ears, hands yanking at the back of his jacket to physically pull him and Deuce away from each other.

You’re lecturing them. Telling them how stupid and immature they are and how you’re always having to keep them in line. Your hands are on your hips and your brows are furrowed in that cute way they always do when you’re mad. Deuce looks genuinely cowed by your words, clearly upset to have disappointed you, but Ace has to bite back the smirk eating at his lips when he notices Malleus is long gone.

His eye has swollen shut but, five minutes later, when you’re fussing over him and pressing ice to his bruise, Ace can’t help but feel like he’s won.

#ask #anon #sinning #reader insert #twisted wonderland #otome hell #ace trappola #deuce spade #malleus draconia #long post #real talk tho these 3 are the main boys I ship with the mc #and anything I wrote for this fandom is with the understanding that these 3 are in love with the mc whether stated or not

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unswayed-au · 4 years

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UNSWAYED PT. V - EPILOGUE

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. iv) (pt. v) (askblog)

(thank you @supercantaloupe, @oklaheauxma, and @axolotlbeans <3)

(Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.)

he wakes up at the station on the surface with other souls waiting to be taken down. and the souls, the rails, the image of a train that isn’t here yet, the idea of a place he’d only just left--his head is full of images of broken glass and fire, a hadestown at war, a hadestown emptied out with only a few thousand dissenters left, a hadestown whose king surely hates him--and persephone, who had been hanging out there to wait for hermes, sees the look on his face with haunted eyes and a hard gaze and she makes a beeline for him

he's dead. she has an idea of what happened, but she's not going to ask or push. what she does do is this: she takes him by the wrist and says, "orpheus, look at me. you're not going down there again. there's a place for the truly dead, and there's a place for the heroes, and it's not hadestown."

orpheus blinks and looks up at her, and to be met with those eyes in hers is a feeling she can’t replicate. she's not shaken, but the look of someone expecting to be at war should not be on his face, she thinks. he stares at her mutely.

"hadestown ain't the train's only stop, brother. when it stops there," she takes his fare from his hands (when did those get there?) and hands him his ticket, "you don't get off. the next one, that one's yours. they'll show you where to go. you're gonna be just fine, orpheus. you ain't gotta fight anymore."

the next thing she knows orpheus is standing and he's pressed tight against her in a hug, and she's hugging him tight in turn, and he's got his face in the crook of her neck, and she can feel how much he's shaking. "thanks," is the only thing he chokes out

"oh, don't thank me, 's just the way the world is."

(When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense.)

when the underworld empties and the few who still prefer the security of the underworld to the freedom but unpredictability of the Top--those who choose to stay with what's familiar--it's a chance for hades to start putting things right again. wiping out the terrible things like a wave and starting something new. opportunity to change, now that there is little to uphold. cutting out the briar to plant a rose. maybe he'll get it right, this time. Autumn is on the banks of the world, and it doesn’t take long before it’s time for persephone to come down under--this time, on time. and eagerly, to help rebuild.

(of course, his pride smarts for a long while. to be so soundly defeated and his whole empire rocked is a large blow to the king of steel. and the few hundred workers remaining are subject to what comes of it, but they're not so keen to listen anymore, and the more reasonable few manage to get through to him, after a while. with great hesitation, but through, nonetheless.)

he'll keep these few furnaces still running... he'll wander out to the Beyond, now that no one is there but Kampê, and see what has become of the place for the first time in hundreds of years. he doesn't want to let go of the place completely, but since it’s practically emptied, perhaps kampê would be alright in central hadestown. perhaps he will go to all the abandoned places and carve out the earth with his mighty god-hand, crush up the stone and gather up all the metal and throw it into the furnaces that still run, make something new. a rail system...? perhaps not. persephone didn't really like the train.

ideas for something new are difficult. for so long, all he made was factories and mines, automobiles and oil drums, wires, electricity. he still doesn't quite understand why persephone refused them all, the diamonds and gold, light and warmth he gave her.

though he knows that it is wrong, he still feels like he’s right. changing is such a complicated and long process

(The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep. People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch. The door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep.)

but she’ll explain; she’ll talk, she’ll hold hades’ hand and they’ll figure it out. persephone has a voice, and the workers, they begin to speak too; the steady tune of hadestown has been stopped and left a silent void for maybe something different. who knows what will happen; how different things will actually turn out. but they have to try.

orpheus too lends his hand from his perch in Elysium; turns out to be instrumental in helping along the change in Hadestown, the last movement of the red revolution.

there must still be mines, hades says. there must still be factories. how else will there be carved things? jewelry? how will new metal be got? fuel?

"of course," they say, "but that is not all we should have."

"of course," he agrees, in the quiet underground.

(he spends the winter making a little town out of the... bigger town he'd built. spends the winter refreshing the underworld just as persephone spends summers refreshing the overworld.)

(I would love to kiss you. The price of kissing is your life.

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting, What a bargain, let’s buy it.)

eurydice looks around in awe at the valley.

it’s so much space in the open underground. it’s nothing like hadestown. there’s no oppressive pollution; there’s no heavy waves of heat sweeping through the air. and sure, it’s mostly a lot of rock, but... just because there isn’t a lot of greenery growing there doesn’t mean that it’s bad. actually, it’s pretty beautiful, the geological formations, stone structures, and the homes of other elysian heroes in the distance, and the paved roads and the lights strung up in between. a waterfall she can spy far off; a river running through the bottom of the whole place.

and what surprises her is that there is greenery growing at all. sparsely, but... it’s there. a couple of roadside trees; some bushes, some flowers, cultivated patches and smatterings of wild grasses.

orpheus’ cottage stands out to her. there it sits in its homely little spot, and it has the most lively things of all. growing under an electric sun and incandescent stars. tall trees with broad leaves; a swaying field that browns at the edges, but is filled with delicate flowers and tall viridian shoots the closer to the house it is. a fire pit and stone stools out front. lanterns strung from one pillar of rock to another, lights hung from the branches of the trees. a guitar on the weathered wooden porch. she can see it all from here.

it is so achingly orpheus. she missed this. she missed him.

pulling the horse along, her wagon rattles with bits and bobs of furniture and items as it trundles across the road.

all that greenery wasn’t there originally; when orpheus got there, it was all stone and water with no sun or stars, and not that it wasn’t beautiful, but it was hades who wanted to bring spring downstairs, at least a little, to try and appease his wife. and she wasn’t the only one who wanted it. at least, with their efforts to help him along in reconstruction, something’s been done.

orpheus’ little college is perfectly fit to him, but there’s space for another. nothing is there--there aren’t two rocking chairs or two placemats at the little kitchen table, but there could be. there’s space for it, and his bed is big enough for two.

it would hurt to see empty seats and no one eating with him, but he knows that someday she will fill that space.

... (beyond right and wrong there is a field i will meet you there

don’t go back to sleep don’t go back to sleep)

orpheus hears the wagon first, and when he steps out on the porch, he doesn’t register what he’s seeing.

and then he does

and the biggest grin cracks his face wide open and he jumps down the porch stairs, skipping them all, and orpheus runs down the lawn and eurydice runs up to him and they crash into each other, and orpheus picks her up and swings her around, and she’s laughing, and he’s laughing, and they’re both crying, and there is nothing like feeling a shattered heart you’d made peace with get suddenly pieced back together.

eurydice grabs his face and kisses him, and he puts her down so they can kiss in a less awkward position, and they just dive deep into each other and neither of them have ever felt so alive in so long

pulling away, orpheus cups eurydice’s face--both of them must be messes, he thinks, tear-streaked and red-eyed. he just takes her in, they stare at each other, just... looking. drinking in the sight of each other after decades of separation.

and orpheus presses their foreheads together and says, “good morning.”

and then; he looks past her at the horse and the wagon full of things. “what’s this?”

eurydice laughs. “you asked me to come home with you?”

“i did.”

“i do. now help me get these next to yours.”

(i will meet you in the morning i will lie with you day and night til the words you and i fall away…)

gods, they haven’t seen each other or heard each other’s voices or put up with each other’s wit in so long. moving in isn’t all that tedious so much as just kind of strenuous, but every minute is spent with them talking and catching up and laughing and shooting remarks and remembering everything they missed about each other

they’re alone together all day, but it’s been so long, and this place is so strange. orpheus is obviously happy to see her but he seems so focused on helping her settle in and see the place and everything. after so long apart, they’ve changed; it’s hard to tell if this is still Her Orpheus

or maybe she was expecting too much, and her memory of him turned him into some kind of false idol

but as the bright bulb of the sun starts to dim and the sky turns red and the stars begin to wink into existence, some people come knocking on their door

apparently orpheus had sent out word earlier that day. his friends and neighbors are here, something of a party, a celebration, a welcome for eurydice. orpheus gets to introduce everyone and she gets to meet the neighborhood

orpheus starts for the stove to make everybody food and stuff but somebody shoves him aside like “no, no, this is you guys’ night; let us handle this stuff, alright?”

it’s. nice. it’s homely. eurydice thinks about the friends she left behind on the surface. and she thinks about what it was like for orpheus, waiting for her all these years. she’s happy he’s healed and made friends. he wasn’t alone

and outside in the warm air, the fire pit is lit. folks are chatting under the lanterns with flowers beneath their heels, talking, getting to know eurydice, having a good time

it’s all a bit overwhelming for her, meeting so many people at once, but honestly? she wouldn’t have it any other way

and then someone pulls out a fiddle

and they start playing. and someone pulls out a guitar

and someone perks up and runs inside and grabs orpheus’ accordion (and someone bangs their knees and says “damn, i wish i had my tambourine,” and orpheus tells someone to go grab his for them)

and they’re playing something sweet. it fills the air, buffeted by the fire, singing like fairies on the grass

and orpheus pauses. and he stands up and beckons eurydice over to the big empty part of the lawn

and orpheus and eurydice, they took each other’s hands

and brother, you know what they did?

they danced.

words in parentheses: “A Great Wagon” - poem by Rumi “XII. The Field” - song from Octet

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. iv) (pt. v) (askblog)

#unswayed au #hadestown #hadestown au #hadestown fanart #broadway #art #chapters

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weracetogether · 6 years

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SwimRun Lake James... and the Whistle. https://ift.tt/2GZXkRo Race reports often start at the start line, but this report is going to start with the story of a whistle... Packed up and ready to go we headed up to Nebo, North Carolina. Yep, we have all of our gear. Yep, wetsuits, newly bought sleeves, newly bought gloves, swim paddles, swim buoys, tether, compression bandage, goggles, swim caps, run shoes, socks, and whistles... oh um... whistles? Well, we thought we had everything, that was until after eight hours in the car when we showed up for check-in. Here are our wetsuits and compression bandage pack, and....now where did we put those whistles. "You got them, right?" This seemed to be the phrase said a lot over the next ten minutes. Just to give you some insight if you don't know what a SwimRun race is, you are swimming and running in remote areas in the wilderness. You are out where a lot can go wrong, so you are required to each have a whistle in the event of such an emergency. Our whistles, a multitude of whistles, were back those eight hours and four states at the house.

Here we are in Nebo, NC at the race venue with no whistle. What to do? Well, go find a whistle before the 1730 Mandatory Athletes Meeting -- how hard can that be? It seemed like a simple task, after all this was a lake community with kayaking and boating which requires whistles. This logic may have been reasonable if it was May or June and the tourism of the lake would be in full swing. But here at the beginning of April the lake was not a hopping location and the lake front harbor stores were not open for business. We drove on. Next stop a Dollar General- nope.Then a Fire and EMS Department- nope, doors locked. Then an auto parts store- nope. Then a second Dollar General- nope. Then we call a few suggested places- nope, nope, and nope. Then a few gas stations- nope. Then Tractor Supply- nope (but they had baby chicks, adorable, and they make a lot of noise). On the way through the town we passed a Sheriff's station, a last resort; which was quickly making its way to the top of the list. Next stop Wal-Mart (a place we don't frequent in our normal lives)- YES!!! Old school coaching whistles, TWO PACK!! Game on!!!

SwimRun Lake James Photo

We check out and literally run across the parking lot back to the Jeep, jump in, and take to the mountain roads. We cleared the hills and valleys and twists and turns, to arrive back at the park, just in time to get through check-in with all supplies in hand and still managing a smile. Now, let me go ahead and tell you there are extra whistles in the Jeep already. We sat through the athletes meeting about supply stops, blazes (trail markings), and the course. In all honestly this meeting made me a bit nervous. Initially I felt good on the cut off times but as the list of turns and swims and turns added up my math started to fail me and the task at hand was making me nervous. This is where having a calm partner is beneficial. Patrick simply told me, "We'll be fine." Then smiled and we were off to the hotel for a restless night's sleep. About that sleep, it wasn't race jitters, it was the hotel neighbor playing ESPN at top volume through the night. I now know way too much about this baseball season. As usual race morning came right on time. Up, shower, repack, dress... breakfast?? What??? We never get breakfast, especially not at the hotel. But the hotel started breakfast at 0600, and with race time not until 0800 we had time to eat like normal people on vacation.

After breakfast we headed out to the race site. Which unlike "normal" road events, is in the middle of a state park. A peaceful place at 0630. As the sun lit the day, we met other athletes, laughed as our wetsuits were all too small (a common problem each time you put on your perfectly sized wetsuit), and we listened to Tom Petty be cut short by announcements. An exciting bonus to this race was Patrick's Mom was able to come see us leave out (and finish). It was awesome to see familiar and excited faces as we left out on our adventure. The National Anthem played, a deep breath was drawn in, a final kiss to my partner, and GO!!! Right quick let me say, I love race starts no matter the race. I love the National Anthem sing along; I love the vibe; I love the smiles. But in SwimRun (especially mid/back pack) there is another sound- LAUGHTER, more like giggles. See this group is the group that knows we will be out there for a while, but we also know the person with us is our best buddy (for a lifetime or just for the day) and we would not want to be out there with any one else.

As we leave out we are back of the pack. Remember that whole "oh my wetsuit shrunk" comment? Well, for me my wetsuit did not shrink and I did not get bigger, my wetsuit just does not fit. You see Patrick and I don't (well didn't, more on that later) have SwimRun wetsuits that have pockets and front zippers and cool features. What we do have is Patrick in a surfer Seadoo shorty and me in a Blue Seventy tri wesuits with the sleeves and legs cut short. The reason my suit was ideal for cutting was it never fit; not the arms, the legs or the torso, none of it fit. SwimRun was originally a one time race so we felt no need to upgrade. Then on the second go around the idea was, "well this worked last time." So here we are running and swimming in a surfer wetsuit and a too small wetsuit. The factor of my suit being too small, in addition to gloves and sleeves added on took their effect in the first two mile run when I started to overheat a little. Plus I was running in an odd arm due to the new sleeves and poor posture position due to the wetsuit being too short. At about a mile I took off my left glove to help temperature regulation. I also walked for a minute to stretch out. Patrick was giving me grace, which was good because I told him he had to be like our friend L. Bacon who on a ten mile trail run recently was motivational and patient. The phrase I would say to Patrick was "be like Bacon", to "Bacon patience", to "BP". And he was very patient as the athletes in front of us gained ground and I paused to stretched my calves out. Unfortunately, Patrick's mom came by leaving the park as I was walking, but she was still full smiles and kind words. They waved and wished us luck.

SwimRun Lake James Photo

Soon we could see the bridge that would be the first turn into the woods and would mark that we were only a few more steps from our first dive into the mountain waters. As we weaved through the trees and brush, following the well hung blazes, I could see other teams prepping to enter the water. This race marked the swim outs really well (which is awesome); they were marked with US flags and strobe lights. The flags were easy to see and to judge that you were actually getting closer-- with trees as the only other measure we were glad to have something easy to find in sighting.

SwimRun Lake James Photo

I hit the water first and Patrick right behind me. The water was breath taking- beautiful and cold. Unlike at home where the salt water rushes your senses, you taste it and feel the salt against your face, in the fresh water it is a different feeling and taste. The water is clean but with a hint of mud. I wonder if those first to hit the water tasted it or if this is only after it has been churned up from those before. This first time in the water I kept off my glove (which was shoved in my wetsuit), mostly just not thinking about it. It did not seem too bad, but this was only 800 yards.

At last swim.

We found out quickly that putting on swim caps and goggles with gloves was more difficult than expected, leading to Patrick having goggles that often times did not seal properly. This made finding that happy place where your goggles fill with just a little water to swish and clear the fog very difficult. We hit the next runs and swims with little problems. The segments were longer swims and shorter runs. This would be a theme in the second half of the race as well. I began to notice that this short time on the land was causing me to get cold fast, it seemed warming the water in my wetsuit to keep me warm was draining my body heat. For the first half of the event this was not a big deal but I knew what was in front of us. After about 3 running miles and 1800 swimming yards we were at the first aid station. I was glad to find a smiling face saying we were ahead of the first time cut off. When you are in the woods almost alone, it seems like the drop line is hot on your heels; knowing this was not the case eased my mind. We grabbed Tailwind and water and headed out on the long run. With over seven miles to run I went from being cold to being very warm. The best I could do to help with temperature regulation was to take off my gloves and unzip the wetsuit. Since our wetsuits zipped in the back it was an interesting feat to get it unzipped. Over the bib, under the bib; oh, and then thinking the zipper strap was attaching me. Before the race, Patrick and I had agreed that if we needed to take off layers or make adjustments we would stop to do so just to be safe. Guess what I did not do? Yep, I was running behind Patrick while making adjustments. I got the zipper unzipped and went to take off my gloves in that moment a root jumped out of no where and attacked me. Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but as I was headed head first into the trees and briars my glove let loose, I may have said a curse word or two, and Patrick asked if I needed to stop. I quick stepped just enough to catch myself with only a single push back from a tree. Nope, I was good to go- except for the other pesky glove I needed to take off. Gloves off and stuffed down my wetsuit, I was back to "normal".

SwimRun Lake James Photo

This long run took us through beautiful woods, quiet woods. We ran and walked and ran some more, Patrick always remembering to approach the situation with "BP". In this stretch we hit the route elevation, up and down and up. It was nothing like the climb we had for SwimRun NC but it did prove a challenge. We also went past abandoned houses with satellite dishes, camp grounds, and fire roads. I hummed songs, like the theme to Gummy Bears and Walking on Sunshine. As we approached the end of this long run we found ourselves facing the longest swim for the event, just under a mile. Once again we got notice that we were ahead of the cut off and not at risk of getting pulled. There were still a few teams behind us, making us not feel alone in the quiet. There were times we would hear the other teams talk or laugh, times when we would see a glimpse of green or orange through the dense trees. It was nice to know we were all in this together.

SwimRun Lake James Photo

We approached the long swim just behind another team. The kayaker pointed to a flag in the distance and a strobe light that could barely be seen, then made the comment, "Its just over there, sight the mountain". I just smiled and pointed, "over there". Ok let's do this. We had gear all back on and were zipped back up. Step, step, step... and swim. This was a large lake crossing, 1600 yards. I had to laugh a few hundred yards into the swim, because what land people and kayakers don't realize is that at water level the mountain gets hidden behind the trees quickly. It seems like a great idea to start with but the hint of heading for the side of the island ended up being a much better spotting point. In the middle of the lake a boat passed in the distance. Given that we swim around boats frequently this part we were will trained for, in minutes the waves came over us and rocked us back and forth. Unlike back home the waves were consistent as there was only one boat and they were smooth since there was no wind to complicate things. After a few pauses to adjust goggles we made it across the lake. Cold we stumbled a little up the bank and into the woods. Here is where things got a little more "interesting".

Last Swim

Again the quick land masses led way to water again. Each time our bodies warmed water in our wetsuits it was drained out by the land crossing leaving space for the cold water to come in again and again as we dove into the water. Fill and drain, fill and drain. The time on the islands was only minutes. Of course I used this land time to make a fool of myself. As we crossed one island I was looking at the next swim out and stepped down the bank carefully as Patrick had told me to do, just not carefully enough. As I laughed sitting there on my butt in the clay/mud, I stated, "well, that's going to bruise". I guess it was loud enough to make the team behind us chuckle then I heard one partner say to the other, "we should be careful here." At least I was helping others!!

Last Swim

In this over hill and dale section we came to a point where there was a buoy but no visual of the out point. All of a sudden some how we were totally alone. We eventually waded out in the water to be able to look around the point and see the out. "Found it," I yelled to Patrick. Once the swim was over he mentioned recalling something from the athletes meeting about there being a buoy to swim to and then we would see the out. Hey we found that spot, too bad we forgot about that conversational point until after standing on the shore for a few minutes.

Last Swim

After this we ran past the final check point still ahead of time. One more long swim (1300 yards), two more land crossings, two more short water crossings, and one final hill to run up to the finish. It seems like a lot but we were nearing the end. As we approached the water for the 1300 yard swim we spoke to one of the race directors, Kristen, who appeared comfy in the Fish and Wildlife Boat. She was friendly and made sure we were okay. It seems we always run into a race director near the end. This is one of those things about the SwimRun events that we have done that I appreciate- the RDs are on the course not only for safety but to be a support and a friendly face in a much needed moment. We headed out into the water, last long swim. On this swim we were accompanied by a kayaker and then two. Along the way Patrick was fixing and clearing his goggles, which made the kayakers a little nervous. Maybe because after a long day in cold waters a swimmer who was floating face down for a moment then flipping on his back seems like a swimmer in trouble. I assured the kayaker that my buddy was okay and that it was just a need to clear his goggles. I was happy for their protection but I had to laugh a little, mostly because it was late in a long day and even if I had to drag him we were finishing this on our own. But I knew I wasn't going to need to drag him but if we hung out in the water longer he might be needing to drag my ashore.

Yes I was laughing at his fall.

Up on land after this swim it was clear we were close. A half a mile run, then

New Zone 3 suits- Ready for Next Time

water, then a skip on land, then we heard it the finish line. More so what we heard was Patrick's mom yelling, "there they are!!!" She was so delighted which made me smile. Of course in true team Decision-Making Paradigm" fashion I entered the water gracefully (ha ha ha) and Patrick hit his head on a small branch distracting him from the branch in the water he tripped over. We started this race laughing, we would finish the same way. Across the last of the water and up the steep boat ramp hill. Kristen was there cheering and encouraging us-- oh and telling us that our next SwimRun we would be dawning new wetsuits form Zone3. Super excited about this win!!

That's Kristen running up the hill too.

The finish line came into view at the top of the hill. I can here Patrick's mom cheering behind us. As we hit the gates leading us to the finish I reach out my hand to Patrick and again hand in hand we cross the finish line. This is my favorite part of the day. Not only is it the end to a long day or an accomplishment of making it through this challenge, but for us it is one more notch on our belt of marriage. I can't imagine spending this time with anyone else I know now one could be so patient or make me laugh so hard. I suspect one day he will want to race tied to a faster and quieter partner, but for today he has ME and he doesn't seem to mind.

We crossed the finish line smiles and hugs and yes again laughter. Oh, and burritos!!!! SwimRun Lake James was an exciting adventure with mud, briars, canopying trees, clear waters, and fun. Over 14 miles of running and 3.5 miles of swimming for SwimRun Lake James. Each running mile filled with the beauty of spring buds and the swimming miles smooth. We hope to return next year to SwimRun Lake James and to do a few other races of the SwimRun sort. We ended our trip with snow and family!!!

#IMCHOO #IMTraining #Triathlete #Triathlon

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