Wednesday with Wonder Woman

So Wednesday is basically a carry over from Tuesday so much to do, so little time. I stumble downstairs around 7 and tell my husband they are interviewing the Naked Cowboy in Times Square. I am fasicnated by a man walking around in his skivvies playing the guitar, more so since we are doing the underwear run that is open to 300 NYC Tri participants the Friday before ther NYC Triathlon. I just ordered my Wonder Woman underoos to run in. This is my kind of race. A mile and a half run through Central Park in your underwear. Does this mean I am a closet exhibitionist?? I imagine it will be extemely liberating running in my underwear in the city. I almost fell over when my husband sent me confirmation that he signed us up for the race. This is way outside my husband's box. It would be like wearing a tutu and viking horns as our team uniform for the Muddy Buddy like I want us to. I hope my thighs don't get a rash from rubbing together. They are usually covered discreetly by my running shorts. But not this time!

So our training today was on our bikes. I love my bike, it's so pretty. It's light blue, a Trek 1600. Not all carbon but some carbon components. It is very light, but not light like Brad's rocket tri bike. I don't have to worry if my bike falls over though, his we have to tip toe around. Heaven forbid his should tip, it could crack. Anyway, back to my bike, it isn't a tri specific bike, it's a road bike we fitted with aero bars. I have had her for a year almost now, I call her Bonni Blue Bell when I am riding her and we talk when I feel like I can't go another mile further. And did I mention my shoes? The last time we did race packet pick up at 3 Sports I spied a pair of Shimano while pearlized leather and catch this, light blue tri shoes. Hello gorgeous, I thought when I saw them and of course I had to buy them. After all, they match my bike!!

All of our tri equipment is named in case you're wondering. My wetsuit is Delilah. I call Brad's Fred. So Brad let me know after we discuss our favorite underwear sporting cowboy, that today's ride is just a hour long. "We'll go down to Duval and back, that's around 20 miles". Sure, no problem, what I fail to mention is we have to cross Hull Street Road. I am not the biggest thrill seeker in the world, but I imagine jumping out of an airplane with no parachute would be less stressful. We cross at a light, which would seem okay, but it is a new traffic light, installed in the last year and people seem to "forget" it's there. There have been some pretty horrific accidents and I don't want to become one of them.

We start our ride, it's warm today and a tad more humid then it has been. I just had Bonni tuned up so she is changing gears like a champ. Off we go through our subdivision, then we get to "the light" duh, duh, duhhhhhh (imagine some extemely dramatic music here.) I am hyperventilating almost, I am talking to myself again, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. And of course, with Brad at the helm at this point, I do make it. We travel some extremely windy and hill roads, and finally hit Duval. It's a nice quiet road, save some maniac moms and their freaking mini vans, there is almost no traffic. After we get to the top of a particularly nasty hill my ever helpful husband wants to know what's the matter with you? I was pedalling slowly and trying to slow my heart some. This is Mr. I-ride-40-miles-on-Sunday boy. I look at him acerbically and snap at him that I am not him and to lay off pretty much. Ugh, it's gonna be one of these rides I guess, if I were better at sharp turns, I might have turned around like when we run and it stinks...So I tell him to do his ride and I'll do mine. His averages 24 miles an hour, mine is 18-19. We did practice keeping a pace line and drafting and I am getting pretty good at it. I was keeping a 20+ pace with him up and down the hills on the way back. Brad, God bless him, is a great coach to me, but sometimes he comes off as a High School footbal coach tired of his team screwing around, "Hey you guys, quit playing grab ass and start paying attention to what you're doing!" (That's the part where you imagine an overweight guy with his belly sort of hitched over his belt, whistle around his neck, bad 70's looking sweatshorts, barking at a bunch of kids). He means well, but he doesn't seem to know when not to bark at me and when it's okay to offer his help. His help, I always listen to, it's when he gets that exasperated "what the heck is wrong with you" tone in his voice that I shut down like a Brady during one of Mike's uncermoniously long sermons. We did go over a few helpful hints for the race on Sunday, and even went nosing through a new subdivision being built to sort of take it easy on the way back. I am duly unimpressed with Magnolia Green by the way.

I have no idea what we're doing tomorrow. I believe it will entail a run of some sort, which is good, I haven't run since Sunday. I am starting to get my race butterflies already too.