Years ago, I thought it might be a new and exciting challenge to participate in a sprint triathlon here in Colorado. After all, the Centennial State is filled with active adventure-seekers, so I wanted in on some of the action. As I stood on the banks of a frigid lake donned in a form-fitting wetsuit at 7 a.m. on the morning of the event, I began to have second thoughts. A steady wind made the lake very choppy. In fact, the one lasting memory I have of the triathlon – aside from the breath-stealing gut punch from when I first entered the 51-degree water – was realizing how difficult it was to navigate once I began my swim. Arms and legs - including my own - flailed around me, and the choppy water made it nearly impossible to spot the marker-buoys that outlined the swim course. After several minutes, I found myself gradually drifting off course which added precious minutes to my overall time.