After the NY City tri, my husband said we needed some time off. It was good, I did loads of laundry, caught up on work and house work. It was a great week off.
Today starts a new week. I am training for the half marathon Labor Day weekend most specifically. I will keep up with biking and swimming when Brad asks me to join him on those workouts, but I need to totally focus on my running.
I took the girls to Tri team this morning and ran while they ran. I wanted to do a two hour run, really I did, but that would be hard to do when the girls camp is only an hour long. So off they went and off I went. I have to say, at first it felt great, by minute 11, I was thinking I can do this no problem. Then after 1/2 hour I felt a little fatigued. This is when that evil little man in my head starts riding me. "How the heck do you expect to run for two hours if you're dying after 1/2 hour?" So I plowed on, and it felt good again. I did a good 42 minute run with a three minute cool down. I wound up running almost 4.5 miles, so I was running a slower pace then what I wanted, but after not doing anything for a week, and not really focusing on running before but more on all three disciplines, I have to be pleased with my start.
Back to the NY City tri for just a bit, I found a picture of my husband before the swim in the lost and found. I was so excited I sent it to him and then he must have found one too. I had to laugh out loud when I saw it. He had this maniacal, almost twitchy mental patient look in his swim cap and his wetsuit. The smile was definitely One Flew Over the Cuckoos nest. All work and no play makes Brad a dull boy...
So I will run again tomorrow. How long, who knows?? I want to get my stamina up, I want to increase my endurance and I have 5 weeks to do it in. Piece of cake, speaking of pieces of cake, I wonder if we have anything sweet in this house to eat? I need to go rummage in the cupboard...
Monday, July 28, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
There Has to Be a Morning After....
I am happy to report I am alive! I lived through my first Olympic distance triathlon and, although, I didn't do so well, I survived to regale you all in the details of the duh, duh, duh NEW YORK CITY TRIATHLON....
As I posted yesterday Brad went and got us coffee to start the day and brought back some fresh fruit from that Greek diner across the street. We ate the yogurt we bought the night before, and granola, drank our G2 and there you go. We got showered, dressed in our Richmond Tri Club suits, yes we were rocking the Richmond blue, and out the door we went. We video-ed everything, and I am glad we did. I was extremely at ease. Why, I have no idea. I was terrified of the jelly fish, wondering if I could make the 24 miles and couldn't fathom running a 10K after.
As we were going into where our bikes were racked, we got body marked. After the cute guy who marked me was done, he looked up from the 41 he was writing on my leg and asked, Are you an elite? Which of course got me giggling like a school girl. I guess only an amateur triathlete would take that as a compliment. We got to our transition spots and started setting up. I was number 2256, Brad was 849 so we were pretty spread out. My spot was right near the in and out for the swim and the run but the bike was a million miles away. So after much puttering around and chatting with my fellow triathletes, I went back to where Brad was, with wetsuit in hand and we went down to where we could get our timing chips. We stopped at the loo on the way. Of course the boy line moved with the speed of light and the girl line hadn't even moved by the time Brad came to fetch me. Thankfully, I didn't really have to go.
At this point, it's around 5:45 and Brad's wave is set to start at 6:08. He gets into this race zone, a place where no man but Brad can go, and he was starting to zone. It gets kind of scary, like he could potentially hurt someone if they get in the way. He had this wild look in his eyes, sputtering about his wave starting and needing to get there as he was walking the almost mile to swim start. Here he is, in his crocs and asking me if I minded him running ahead of me to get to where he needed to go. I told him to go ahead, I was going to meditate my way to a triathlon nirvana.
I was all alone, there was no one there beside me...My problems had all gone...I kept trodding along, saying hello to the volunteers who greeted us so warmly along the route and was singing in my head, Who's afraid of the jellyfish, the jellyfish, the jellyfish....I found chip pick up, and my zoned husband, kissed him, told him I would see him on the other side (it's what I always say to him before a race starts) strapped my chip on my ankle like a dolphin being tracked in the wild, pulled my wetsuit out of the plastic bag I had it in, found a grassy spot to sit and started getting into it. I was wishing someone had a stick of butter to rub all over me because they are a pain to get into, especially being sweaty with how hot it was that morning. But I got in up to my waist, walked around like Jacques Cousteau waiting to dive and find the elusive moray eel and decided to find my corral.
The swim waves had already started, the pros and elites were off, and it was awesome to see them swimming that mile. The excitement started to rise with my other 40-44 year old age grouping women. We kept moving down the line to the start barge, all of us helping zip up our suits, making sure we were done up properly down the back. Suddenly it was here, the Swim Barge, inch by inch, step by step, slowly we turned down the barge ramp, and there I was, poised on the precipice of what could be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. The announcer called, Red Caps, you're in the water. I jumped in, held on to the rope and waited. The air horn sounded and we were gone. I was pummeled like a speed bag at a gym, but found a spot, got into my rhythm and I started my mile down the Hudson. Hey, I'm doing pretty well, look at me zoom through the water, this is great! But I started wondering to myself, how is someone holding a lit match to my toes??? Next thing I know it felt like someone smacked me in the face with a blazing hot frying pan. Ack, jelly fish attack, jellyfish attack!!!! Danger Danielle Robinson, Danger Danielle Robinson, now, at this point I am thinking, I am calling the kayaker, I need assistance!! But as I lifted my head out of the water to scrape the stinging from my lips, I saw the end. I was but 250 meters away, I just swam a freakin mile, I can't stop. So I swim on, now I have stinging in my wetsuit over my right shoulder blade, I finally realize what that sensation was that got my toes. Lion's mane jellyfish. Those mutant looking basketballs of angry red and purple pulsating goo! But I made it. I couldn't believe when the lifeguard was helping me out at the swim finish. I carefully avoided the fresh water showers, remembering I read somewhere that would make the sting of a jelly fish worse, jogged the 1/2 mile to transition peeling myself like a banana, and made it in. I got to my bike, grabbed my sponge soaked in ammonia and sponged down my face and feet. But there was the poor girl across from me who was absolutely panicked, asking me wide eyed what's going on with me, why am I on fire?? I helped her, and offered my ammonia sponge to everyone and anyone who was stung, and everyone happily obliged. I grabbed my bike shoes, put on my race belt, put my sunglasses on, slapped on my helmet, tore through the opening of transition, crossed the blue line and hopped on my bike.
The bike ride was something else. They tell you straight away to get into your little ring to get through the first part of the ride out of the park. The rest of the ride was extremely hilly, but the scenery was to die for. There you are, riding along, looking at the City, it was truly breathtaking. But hilly, holy cow, I was working every gear I had getting up and down those hills, down the Henry Hudson, to the Moshulu, back to 50th street, back to Riverside Park. I was tired, my legs were screaming from the hills, how was I going to do this run???
I get through the bike dismount, stop, pull my shoes off, and run the billion miles to my spot. I drop my helmet, shoes, grab my socks, put on my sneakers, spray down with sunscreen, get my Richmond Tri Club hat on and start the steep incline to get to the run down 72 Street. It was pretty gnarly, the hill was like running to the top swirl of a 1000 foot Carvel Ice Cream cone. But I ran the whole thing, and down 72nd. I couldn't stop, there were too many spectators, all cheering, I had to run, which I did. I ran into Central Park and to the first Hydration Station. I grabbed an Accelerade and a water. I promptly dumped the water over my head and gulped down the Accelerade. I started running again, and then it happened. Did anyone get the loin cloth number of the native that threw the spear into my thigh??? Geez, medic, I'm hit, I'm hit. Surprisingly, there isn't anything sticking out. Hmmmm, better start running again. Then it hits me again, yowza, this hurts, stop and walk it out. I did, hit the next hydration station did the Accelerade and cup of water over the head. I continued this pattern for the whole 6.2 miles. Up and down the hills of Central Park. The mean, little man that lives in my head is yelling at me, you lived through jelly fish fields, the mean streets and potholes of NY, you can do this, finish this. Then I heard another noise, the noise of a finish line in the distance. It energized me, my legs started moving me. Not fast, not lightning like, but faster then the walk that I had to do at certain points. The end was mine my friend. I started running hard, I had legs left and flew through that end like I was an elite finishing in 2 hours. It was a wonderful feeling, I was done, met up with my husband, life was good, very good and that's all I have to say about that...
As I posted yesterday Brad went and got us coffee to start the day and brought back some fresh fruit from that Greek diner across the street. We ate the yogurt we bought the night before, and granola, drank our G2 and there you go. We got showered, dressed in our Richmond Tri Club suits, yes we were rocking the Richmond blue, and out the door we went. We video-ed everything, and I am glad we did. I was extremely at ease. Why, I have no idea. I was terrified of the jelly fish, wondering if I could make the 24 miles and couldn't fathom running a 10K after.
As we were going into where our bikes were racked, we got body marked. After the cute guy who marked me was done, he looked up from the 41 he was writing on my leg and asked, Are you an elite? Which of course got me giggling like a school girl. I guess only an amateur triathlete would take that as a compliment. We got to our transition spots and started setting up. I was number 2256, Brad was 849 so we were pretty spread out. My spot was right near the in and out for the swim and the run but the bike was a million miles away. So after much puttering around and chatting with my fellow triathletes, I went back to where Brad was, with wetsuit in hand and we went down to where we could get our timing chips. We stopped at the loo on the way. Of course the boy line moved with the speed of light and the girl line hadn't even moved by the time Brad came to fetch me. Thankfully, I didn't really have to go.
At this point, it's around 5:45 and Brad's wave is set to start at 6:08. He gets into this race zone, a place where no man but Brad can go, and he was starting to zone. It gets kind of scary, like he could potentially hurt someone if they get in the way. He had this wild look in his eyes, sputtering about his wave starting and needing to get there as he was walking the almost mile to swim start. Here he is, in his crocs and asking me if I minded him running ahead of me to get to where he needed to go. I told him to go ahead, I was going to meditate my way to a triathlon nirvana.
I was all alone, there was no one there beside me...My problems had all gone...I kept trodding along, saying hello to the volunteers who greeted us so warmly along the route and was singing in my head, Who's afraid of the jellyfish, the jellyfish, the jellyfish....I found chip pick up, and my zoned husband, kissed him, told him I would see him on the other side (it's what I always say to him before a race starts) strapped my chip on my ankle like a dolphin being tracked in the wild, pulled my wetsuit out of the plastic bag I had it in, found a grassy spot to sit and started getting into it. I was wishing someone had a stick of butter to rub all over me because they are a pain to get into, especially being sweaty with how hot it was that morning. But I got in up to my waist, walked around like Jacques Cousteau waiting to dive and find the elusive moray eel and decided to find my corral.
The swim waves had already started, the pros and elites were off, and it was awesome to see them swimming that mile. The excitement started to rise with my other 40-44 year old age grouping women. We kept moving down the line to the start barge, all of us helping zip up our suits, making sure we were done up properly down the back. Suddenly it was here, the Swim Barge, inch by inch, step by step, slowly we turned down the barge ramp, and there I was, poised on the precipice of what could be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. The announcer called, Red Caps, you're in the water. I jumped in, held on to the rope and waited. The air horn sounded and we were gone. I was pummeled like a speed bag at a gym, but found a spot, got into my rhythm and I started my mile down the Hudson. Hey, I'm doing pretty well, look at me zoom through the water, this is great! But I started wondering to myself, how is someone holding a lit match to my toes??? Next thing I know it felt like someone smacked me in the face with a blazing hot frying pan. Ack, jelly fish attack, jellyfish attack!!!! Danger Danielle Robinson, Danger Danielle Robinson, now, at this point I am thinking, I am calling the kayaker, I need assistance!! But as I lifted my head out of the water to scrape the stinging from my lips, I saw the end. I was but 250 meters away, I just swam a freakin mile, I can't stop. So I swim on, now I have stinging in my wetsuit over my right shoulder blade, I finally realize what that sensation was that got my toes. Lion's mane jellyfish. Those mutant looking basketballs of angry red and purple pulsating goo! But I made it. I couldn't believe when the lifeguard was helping me out at the swim finish. I carefully avoided the fresh water showers, remembering I read somewhere that would make the sting of a jelly fish worse, jogged the 1/2 mile to transition peeling myself like a banana, and made it in. I got to my bike, grabbed my sponge soaked in ammonia and sponged down my face and feet. But there was the poor girl across from me who was absolutely panicked, asking me wide eyed what's going on with me, why am I on fire?? I helped her, and offered my ammonia sponge to everyone and anyone who was stung, and everyone happily obliged. I grabbed my bike shoes, put on my race belt, put my sunglasses on, slapped on my helmet, tore through the opening of transition, crossed the blue line and hopped on my bike.
The bike ride was something else. They tell you straight away to get into your little ring to get through the first part of the ride out of the park. The rest of the ride was extremely hilly, but the scenery was to die for. There you are, riding along, looking at the City, it was truly breathtaking. But hilly, holy cow, I was working every gear I had getting up and down those hills, down the Henry Hudson, to the Moshulu, back to 50th street, back to Riverside Park. I was tired, my legs were screaming from the hills, how was I going to do this run???
I get through the bike dismount, stop, pull my shoes off, and run the billion miles to my spot. I drop my helmet, shoes, grab my socks, put on my sneakers, spray down with sunscreen, get my Richmond Tri Club hat on and start the steep incline to get to the run down 72 Street. It was pretty gnarly, the hill was like running to the top swirl of a 1000 foot Carvel Ice Cream cone. But I ran the whole thing, and down 72nd. I couldn't stop, there were too many spectators, all cheering, I had to run, which I did. I ran into Central Park and to the first Hydration Station. I grabbed an Accelerade and a water. I promptly dumped the water over my head and gulped down the Accelerade. I started running again, and then it happened. Did anyone get the loin cloth number of the native that threw the spear into my thigh??? Geez, medic, I'm hit, I'm hit. Surprisingly, there isn't anything sticking out. Hmmmm, better start running again. Then it hits me again, yowza, this hurts, stop and walk it out. I did, hit the next hydration station did the Accelerade and cup of water over the head. I continued this pattern for the whole 6.2 miles. Up and down the hills of Central Park. The mean, little man that lives in my head is yelling at me, you lived through jelly fish fields, the mean streets and potholes of NY, you can do this, finish this. Then I heard another noise, the noise of a finish line in the distance. It energized me, my legs started moving me. Not fast, not lightning like, but faster then the walk that I had to do at certain points. The end was mine my friend. I started running hard, I had legs left and flew through that end like I was an elite finishing in 2 hours. It was a wonderful feeling, I was done, met up with my husband, life was good, very good and that's all I have to say about that...
Sunday, July 20, 2008
I'll take it light and sweet like me
At 3:30 this morning my husband woke me up to let me know he'd be running to that fabulous diner across the street to get us coffee. I gave my stock answer, I'll take it light and sweet like me making a feeble attempt at humor. The Birdcage was on TV, so I watched that while I gave myself my talking to. I talk to myself a lot. I told myself I would be fine today. It was going to be hard, but I would make it. I would have to set my mind to it. But that never ending swim...It just stretched on. Last night at dinner people were joking we could just float and still get it done in 45 minutes. I suppose that's true. I took comfort from a fellow Tri Club member saying he gets all loopy after the swim. I do too. I feel light headed and goofy. I can soothe myself with the thought of a 1/2 mile run, barefoot, through a park in NY. How exciting!! I doubt my transition will be less then 2 minutes this time.
So now I need to get ready. My transition bag is packed, and I will grab Delilah and go. I am off. Wish me luck...
So now I need to get ready. My transition bag is packed, and I will grab Delilah and go. I am off. Wish me luck...
Saturday, July 19, 2008
New York, New York It's a Helluva Town
I know you are all wondering where I have been this past week or so. Let's see, throw in a stomach ailment on Monday night, having to get payroll and accounting stuff done on Tuesday and Wednesday, then getting to NY on Thursday by 11 o'clock at night and well you get the idea. I had no time to think really. Now I do and I am getting a huge case of the jitters so I thought I would blog it all out.
Let's start with getting to NY and invading my poor mother's house. We come in like an infestation of ants. We all got to sleep late and woke up on the earlier side. It was a pug-a-licious wake up. My mom's dog is too excited to greet us all in the morning. I told Mom all she needed to do was pull the dogs tail like a grenade pin, toss her into the bed with the girls and let her explode with all the puggy love goodness that she gives. Sorry, I got a little off track there.
Friday Brad and I had to take the train into the city. That part wasn't so bad, it was taking the subway to our hotel that got a bit dicey. My husband almost decked the guy who decided to push past him and blocked his way out of the subway. There I am, standing on the platform waiting for Brad to get off of the subway, and the doors were closing on his bike. Ahhhhhh! Thankfully it all worked out after a well placed set of handlebars and threat on my husband's behalf, he got off. We carry our bikes up the stairs, walk two blocks and there we were at the Hotel BelleClaire. It's a quirky kind of place, sort of like a youth hostel with a nice staff to hold the door open for you. Thankfully we got a room with our own bathroom. We come to find not all of the rooms do. I have missed the entrance of the hotel every time we leave and come back. It definitely has charm, and by no means is a high end locale. It suits our purposes just fine, although the elevators fit three to four people max...Try it with two bikes, two people, two back packs and two small suitcases.
We got settled in, and decided to grab some lunch at the diner across the street. Great groceries I might add. Your typical Greek establishment, but there is one thing that Greeks do right besides coming up with nifty gods and that is the diner biz. I wish there were one on every street corner near us, but there isn't so this was a treat for sure. We ordered two sandwiches and split them. I got a prosciutto pannini with grilled eggplant, mozzarella and spinach. Brad got the chicken souvlaki. My mouth and stomach were duly impressed with each. What a great lunch. Then we we went down to the Hilton for packet pick up and the race briefing. I don't remember much of anything other then the current in the Hudson is so swift that I will have a personal best swim time, there is a steep hill right out of the bike transition and to have my bike in a low gear in transition and to not take my yellow bracelet off or I won't be able to retrieve my bike after the race. The rest of what he was saying was coming through like the adults on a Peanuts special. Waa, waaa, waa, waaa.... Done with that we hop the subway back to the hotel and relax for about 45 minutes before we have the Underwear Run in Central Park.
The Underwear Run is undoubtedly the most wacky thing I have every participated in. The atmosphere was circus like. A bunch of giggling adults, stripping to their skivvies, getting ready to run 1.7 miles. It was a hoot. I was in my Wonder Woman outfit, Brad was the Man of Steel. I believe I was one of the most prolifically photographed people because I was posing, albeit in a goofy, exaggerated manner, like a super hero. I was playing it up big time and was stopped by most of the professional photographers to pose for a few pics. I was having too much fun to stop myself. My favorite two were the guys in the teeny, tiny speedos with the word sexy across the behind and these huge, yellow and blue afro wigs. They were hilarious and such fun, good natured, not rude and obnoxious guys. Their attitude was absolutely infectious, Brad finally told me to stop egging them on with my stretch ideas, like Hey Yellow and Blue dude, you forgot to stretch your hamstrings! Which of course they would have to happily oblige with a string of almost nasty, totally hysterical, over exaggerated poses that got the crowd whooping and hollering their lusty approval. Finally the horn blows and off we go, a whole gaggle of people in various types of underwear, there was a bride and groom, there was a guy and his dog in matching boxers, there were men in ladies frilly things, girls in mens, it was a whole cross dressing, costume wearing, underwear sporting frenzy of sweaty runners.
During the course of our run we had a celebrity siting. There he was, P Diddy with his body guards. I screamed hello, he waved back. Brad said I should have asked for a picture with him, me, the underwear Wonder Woman and P Diddy, that would have been a hoot, but I didn't really want to stop running. It was so hot, I might not have started again!
The spectators were going wild, and the end was in sight. We hoofed it and finished, drenched in sweat because it was Rain Forest hot and muggy last night. Got our free boxers, free t-shirt, free Snapple water and if we wanted, free Chipotle Burrito. We went back to the clothing corral, got our bag of stuff and we were done. It was one of the most fun things I have done and would highly recommend it to anyone who wants to run in their undies someday.
We took it easy for a few minutes after we got back to our room and Brad decided we needed some Thai food for dinner. We went and grabbed a bite at around 10:30 at night. It was hands down the best Thai I have had. Brad's grilled skirt steak was divine, my Chicken Pad Thai was perfection. We got these wonderful appetizers that we had no idea what they were before hand. Pretty, wonton like, steamed and fried packages of yumminess. The green steamed ones I would recommend the highest dipped in the first clear sauce with the chili peppers floating in it. I know you are so glad I let you know.
So here we are. The day before my biggest race of my season. My mind is a racing mess of worry, excitement, fear, determination. I know I can do this, right? It isn't too much farther then the I Love the Tavern Tri. I did those distances, I was swimming up current for much of the 750, this is all down current. The guy at the briefing said the fastest swim ever recorded for the course was 9 minutes and change. That's pretty frickin impressive. The best time at the Tavern was around there too if I am remembering right. This is 5 miles more on the bike. I can do five miles more on the bike right? Even if I avg. just 16 miles per hour, I will finish the bike leg in 1.5 hours. Then the run. That's scary. A whole 10K after the previous two legs. Like Brad said, what the absolute worst thing that happens Dee? You have to walk to catch your breath? So what? My goal is to finish this race in about 3 hours. It is doable. I think the bike course has me tweaked a bit. You can't preride it and formulate a strategy like with the other triathlons I have done. The hills will be surprise, save the first one out of transition that they warned us about. I keep trying to see myself doing the race, but I can't focus on any one discipline without freaking myself out. I am going to sit and quitely try to do this. To see myself out there, handling each stage as it comes. I know not feeling well this week didn't bode well for my training. I felt okay during the run last night, and I didn't have the adrenaline to count on. So here's hoping my next blog is a happy sunny place to visit. That I am gushing about my race and how great it felt to do. If not, I can always compete in the Underwear runs around the country. I can't imagine how many My Space pages and Facebooks I will be on today...
Let's start with getting to NY and invading my poor mother's house. We come in like an infestation of ants. We all got to sleep late and woke up on the earlier side. It was a pug-a-licious wake up. My mom's dog is too excited to greet us all in the morning. I told Mom all she needed to do was pull the dogs tail like a grenade pin, toss her into the bed with the girls and let her explode with all the puggy love goodness that she gives. Sorry, I got a little off track there.
Friday Brad and I had to take the train into the city. That part wasn't so bad, it was taking the subway to our hotel that got a bit dicey. My husband almost decked the guy who decided to push past him and blocked his way out of the subway. There I am, standing on the platform waiting for Brad to get off of the subway, and the doors were closing on his bike. Ahhhhhh! Thankfully it all worked out after a well placed set of handlebars and threat on my husband's behalf, he got off. We carry our bikes up the stairs, walk two blocks and there we were at the Hotel BelleClaire. It's a quirky kind of place, sort of like a youth hostel with a nice staff to hold the door open for you. Thankfully we got a room with our own bathroom. We come to find not all of the rooms do. I have missed the entrance of the hotel every time we leave and come back. It definitely has charm, and by no means is a high end locale. It suits our purposes just fine, although the elevators fit three to four people max...Try it with two bikes, two people, two back packs and two small suitcases.
We got settled in, and decided to grab some lunch at the diner across the street. Great groceries I might add. Your typical Greek establishment, but there is one thing that Greeks do right besides coming up with nifty gods and that is the diner biz. I wish there were one on every street corner near us, but there isn't so this was a treat for sure. We ordered two sandwiches and split them. I got a prosciutto pannini with grilled eggplant, mozzarella and spinach. Brad got the chicken souvlaki. My mouth and stomach were duly impressed with each. What a great lunch. Then we we went down to the Hilton for packet pick up and the race briefing. I don't remember much of anything other then the current in the Hudson is so swift that I will have a personal best swim time, there is a steep hill right out of the bike transition and to have my bike in a low gear in transition and to not take my yellow bracelet off or I won't be able to retrieve my bike after the race. The rest of what he was saying was coming through like the adults on a Peanuts special. Waa, waaa, waa, waaa.... Done with that we hop the subway back to the hotel and relax for about 45 minutes before we have the Underwear Run in Central Park.
The Underwear Run is undoubtedly the most wacky thing I have every participated in. The atmosphere was circus like. A bunch of giggling adults, stripping to their skivvies, getting ready to run 1.7 miles. It was a hoot. I was in my Wonder Woman outfit, Brad was the Man of Steel. I believe I was one of the most prolifically photographed people because I was posing, albeit in a goofy, exaggerated manner, like a super hero. I was playing it up big time and was stopped by most of the professional photographers to pose for a few pics. I was having too much fun to stop myself. My favorite two were the guys in the teeny, tiny speedos with the word sexy across the behind and these huge, yellow and blue afro wigs. They were hilarious and such fun, good natured, not rude and obnoxious guys. Their attitude was absolutely infectious, Brad finally told me to stop egging them on with my stretch ideas, like Hey Yellow and Blue dude, you forgot to stretch your hamstrings! Which of course they would have to happily oblige with a string of almost nasty, totally hysterical, over exaggerated poses that got the crowd whooping and hollering their lusty approval. Finally the horn blows and off we go, a whole gaggle of people in various types of underwear, there was a bride and groom, there was a guy and his dog in matching boxers, there were men in ladies frilly things, girls in mens, it was a whole cross dressing, costume wearing, underwear sporting frenzy of sweaty runners.
During the course of our run we had a celebrity siting. There he was, P Diddy with his body guards. I screamed hello, he waved back. Brad said I should have asked for a picture with him, me, the underwear Wonder Woman and P Diddy, that would have been a hoot, but I didn't really want to stop running. It was so hot, I might not have started again!
The spectators were going wild, and the end was in sight. We hoofed it and finished, drenched in sweat because it was Rain Forest hot and muggy last night. Got our free boxers, free t-shirt, free Snapple water and if we wanted, free Chipotle Burrito. We went back to the clothing corral, got our bag of stuff and we were done. It was one of the most fun things I have done and would highly recommend it to anyone who wants to run in their undies someday.
We took it easy for a few minutes after we got back to our room and Brad decided we needed some Thai food for dinner. We went and grabbed a bite at around 10:30 at night. It was hands down the best Thai I have had. Brad's grilled skirt steak was divine, my Chicken Pad Thai was perfection. We got these wonderful appetizers that we had no idea what they were before hand. Pretty, wonton like, steamed and fried packages of yumminess. The green steamed ones I would recommend the highest dipped in the first clear sauce with the chili peppers floating in it. I know you are so glad I let you know.
So here we are. The day before my biggest race of my season. My mind is a racing mess of worry, excitement, fear, determination. I know I can do this, right? It isn't too much farther then the I Love the Tavern Tri. I did those distances, I was swimming up current for much of the 750, this is all down current. The guy at the briefing said the fastest swim ever recorded for the course was 9 minutes and change. That's pretty frickin impressive. The best time at the Tavern was around there too if I am remembering right. This is 5 miles more on the bike. I can do five miles more on the bike right? Even if I avg. just 16 miles per hour, I will finish the bike leg in 1.5 hours. Then the run. That's scary. A whole 10K after the previous two legs. Like Brad said, what the absolute worst thing that happens Dee? You have to walk to catch your breath? So what? My goal is to finish this race in about 3 hours. It is doable. I think the bike course has me tweaked a bit. You can't preride it and formulate a strategy like with the other triathlons I have done. The hills will be surprise, save the first one out of transition that they warned us about. I keep trying to see myself doing the race, but I can't focus on any one discipline without freaking myself out. I am going to sit and quitely try to do this. To see myself out there, handling each stage as it comes. I know not feeling well this week didn't bode well for my training. I felt okay during the run last night, and I didn't have the adrenaline to count on. So here's hoping my next blog is a happy sunny place to visit. That I am gushing about my race and how great it felt to do. If not, I can always compete in the Underwear runs around the country. I can't imagine how many My Space pages and Facebooks I will be on today...
Monday, July 14, 2008
Sunday, Bloody, Sunday....
Can you hear the opening bars to the song, for those of you unfamiliar with the song, skip to the next line! Now cut away to the Muddy Buddy. Opening scene, thousands of people, really. There are 2400 people there. 1200 teams all ready to go. There were brides and grooms, ballerina's in tutus, cops and robbers, and superheros galore, but wait there's more. There were guys in coconut bras, and even old grandmas, the sky was the limit and Brad and I were in it. Oh wait, the kids are watching the Cat in the Hat while I blog and the overwhelming urge to rhyme just hit me. We were in the gray wave. I joked with Brad that it matched our age group which was 85, our combined ages. I think we were the 8th wave to go.
I started on the bike. That first leg of the race was about 1.5 miles. Did I mention I hadn't ridden Brad's bike until right when the cannon blew to mark our start? Anyway, the cannon blows, and off we go like maniacs. I am happy to say I was passed by very few and stayed right up front. I was frickin flying. I was so amazingly stoked, I felt like a mountain biker, like yeah, X-terra, watch out, I have mad skills, here I come!!!! Grrrrrr....
I got to the first obstacle, dropped my bike, ran to the rock climbing wall, picked two really chunky hand holds to put my foot on, pull up on, threw my leg over(so who knew I was so flexible??) took one step on the net side and jumped.
I started running, a pace faster then I was used to because I got a stitch right away which I choose to run through. I think I was frothing at the mouth I was so rabid, I wanted hardware, I wanted this race so badly, nothing was going to stop us from placing. Brad passed me on the bike, we yelled greetings at each other and he sped ahead. I made it to the next obstacle. It was those freaking balance beams. I did it straddling two beams last year, this year I had someone on the beam next to me. I could only do one. I started and I fell halfway through, got back up, started again, fell again then started to the bike.
I grabbed the bike and took off like the devil himself was chasing me. I was flying again. I am passing you, I am coming to get you Barbara, watch out cause if you're in my way, you're going down. Famous last thought! Who's going down, yeah you, no me!!! I went down, and no one followed me. I come flying down this incline, not even a hill really, I had to make a kind of sharp-ish right, and I bit it. No, not the turn, the ground silly. My back wheel went out and that was that. Holy sh*t, I hit the ground like an anvil on the Coyote's head. I think I heard the noise he heard when it hit too. Thank goodness I had my helmet on. It took a second to shake the birdies from around my head, as I was regaining my composure a kind woman stopped to see if I was hurt, I told her only my pride was, thanks for stopping and to keep racing her race. I hopped back on my bike, trying to fly again while assessing the damage done. My bike was working, that was a plus, my right leg was scraped and and a bit bloody, and my arm and shoulder hurt like hell. I made it to the next section where Brad was waiting.
Funny, he didn't notice the mess I was, he grabbed the bike and went. It was bad that he was there already and I was just getting him the bike. He took off like a bat out of hades and I had to do this stupid over and under obstacle. It was just too stupid to describe, imagine saw horses stacked and that's what it looks like.
As I started my run, this guy asks me if I'm okay. I look at him and ask why, he responds, Looks like you took a really nasty spill. Oh yeah, that pesky bike incident. I get my stitch back and work on my breathing to control the hurt. I stopped once, not intentionally, but once already, I am not stopping again dammit. I get to the last obstacle, a huge rope ladder up a slide, I'd say it was 20 feet in the air (or at least seems that way to someone who is afraid of heights) and slide down. I search for the bike. I couldn't find it, there it was, with another bike propped almost on top of it. I hop on and know that the stream crossing and Heartbreak hell, I mean Hill await me. Off I fly, get to the stream, hoist the bike on my shoulder, slog through, pull off to the side, switch into a good gear to start the hill and start pedalling like mad. Low gear, high cadence, low gear, high cadence is the mantra I am meditating to. Unfortunately no one else is and this non-mantra repeating guy and two girls decide that right in front of me is where they need to dismounting because they are grinding away and getting nowhere. Get the bleep out of my way ding-a-lings! I run past them, get back on my bike, stand for the first few strokes and pass a bunch of walkers. After that, I am hitting the road. No really, they direct you out to the road and it's smooth sailing from there. So I go, when I say I was weaving in and out of runners, bikers, humanity I was. Brad was waiting for me, I drop the bike and we get to the mud pit. Well as luck would have it, my foot got stuck in the net as we start. The bad thing is people are pulling up on the net, pulling the thing tighter and tighter on my ankle, I pull my foot out of my sneaker, grab it and we commando crawl through the mud. This year the mud was like really thick frosting. I like it way better then last year chocolate soup, and ta-da! We cross the finish line.
I won't bore you with the details of washing the mud and waiting for results. When the results were in, we came in 13 out of 75. Disappointing, devastating, disgusting, we coulda been a contenda, shoulda placed, woulda had the hardware. But due to the miscalculation of a turn, the slip of a wheel and the biting of some major dust, we weren't. Not this time, but I do believe we will be running again next. And watch out, we will be crushing the course, doing the damage and coming home with hardware or my name isn't Wile E Coyote...
I started on the bike. That first leg of the race was about 1.5 miles. Did I mention I hadn't ridden Brad's bike until right when the cannon blew to mark our start? Anyway, the cannon blows, and off we go like maniacs. I am happy to say I was passed by very few and stayed right up front. I was frickin flying. I was so amazingly stoked, I felt like a mountain biker, like yeah, X-terra, watch out, I have mad skills, here I come!!!! Grrrrrr....
I got to the first obstacle, dropped my bike, ran to the rock climbing wall, picked two really chunky hand holds to put my foot on, pull up on, threw my leg over(so who knew I was so flexible??) took one step on the net side and jumped.
I started running, a pace faster then I was used to because I got a stitch right away which I choose to run through. I think I was frothing at the mouth I was so rabid, I wanted hardware, I wanted this race so badly, nothing was going to stop us from placing. Brad passed me on the bike, we yelled greetings at each other and he sped ahead. I made it to the next obstacle. It was those freaking balance beams. I did it straddling two beams last year, this year I had someone on the beam next to me. I could only do one. I started and I fell halfway through, got back up, started again, fell again then started to the bike.
I grabbed the bike and took off like the devil himself was chasing me. I was flying again. I am passing you, I am coming to get you Barbara, watch out cause if you're in my way, you're going down. Famous last thought! Who's going down, yeah you, no me!!! I went down, and no one followed me. I come flying down this incline, not even a hill really, I had to make a kind of sharp-ish right, and I bit it. No, not the turn, the ground silly. My back wheel went out and that was that. Holy sh*t, I hit the ground like an anvil on the Coyote's head. I think I heard the noise he heard when it hit too. Thank goodness I had my helmet on. It took a second to shake the birdies from around my head, as I was regaining my composure a kind woman stopped to see if I was hurt, I told her only my pride was, thanks for stopping and to keep racing her race. I hopped back on my bike, trying to fly again while assessing the damage done. My bike was working, that was a plus, my right leg was scraped and and a bit bloody, and my arm and shoulder hurt like hell. I made it to the next section where Brad was waiting.
Funny, he didn't notice the mess I was, he grabbed the bike and went. It was bad that he was there already and I was just getting him the bike. He took off like a bat out of hades and I had to do this stupid over and under obstacle. It was just too stupid to describe, imagine saw horses stacked and that's what it looks like.
As I started my run, this guy asks me if I'm okay. I look at him and ask why, he responds, Looks like you took a really nasty spill. Oh yeah, that pesky bike incident. I get my stitch back and work on my breathing to control the hurt. I stopped once, not intentionally, but once already, I am not stopping again dammit. I get to the last obstacle, a huge rope ladder up a slide, I'd say it was 20 feet in the air (or at least seems that way to someone who is afraid of heights) and slide down. I search for the bike. I couldn't find it, there it was, with another bike propped almost on top of it. I hop on and know that the stream crossing and Heartbreak hell, I mean Hill await me. Off I fly, get to the stream, hoist the bike on my shoulder, slog through, pull off to the side, switch into a good gear to start the hill and start pedalling like mad. Low gear, high cadence, low gear, high cadence is the mantra I am meditating to. Unfortunately no one else is and this non-mantra repeating guy and two girls decide that right in front of me is where they need to dismounting because they are grinding away and getting nowhere. Get the bleep out of my way ding-a-lings! I run past them, get back on my bike, stand for the first few strokes and pass a bunch of walkers. After that, I am hitting the road. No really, they direct you out to the road and it's smooth sailing from there. So I go, when I say I was weaving in and out of runners, bikers, humanity I was. Brad was waiting for me, I drop the bike and we get to the mud pit. Well as luck would have it, my foot got stuck in the net as we start. The bad thing is people are pulling up on the net, pulling the thing tighter and tighter on my ankle, I pull my foot out of my sneaker, grab it and we commando crawl through the mud. This year the mud was like really thick frosting. I like it way better then last year chocolate soup, and ta-da! We cross the finish line.
I won't bore you with the details of washing the mud and waiting for results. When the results were in, we came in 13 out of 75. Disappointing, devastating, disgusting, we coulda been a contenda, shoulda placed, woulda had the hardware. But due to the miscalculation of a turn, the slip of a wheel and the biting of some major dust, we weren't. Not this time, but I do believe we will be running again next. And watch out, we will be crushing the course, doing the damage and coming home with hardware or my name isn't Wile E Coyote...
Friday, July 11, 2008
Friday carrying over to Saturday
Okay, so today we decided we needed to ride the bike course at Pocohantas because we are doing the Muddy Buddy on Sunday. I woke up with one of my infamous hormonal headaches, not to be confused with a migraine although almost as painful. It felt like someone was scrubbing inside my head with a Brillo pad. It was pretty awful, anyway, Brad asked, Hey, do you want to go ride the Muddy Buddy course? To which I answered dutifully, Uhm, yeah, okay. We get our mountain bikes loaded up and away we go. I took Tylenol first, then Motrin before we left. It took the edge off but I was still pretty miserable. I was in a state of hormonal hell pretty much. My back hurt, my stomach felt blechh...Oooo, I sound like Rosanne Rosannadanna!
Enough of my belly aching, hahaha hormonal humor, no pun intended, anyway we get to the park, unload our bikes, reattach the front tires and get ready to ride. Brad grabbed the car key, put it in the little bag on the back of his bike and off we went. We tried following the map, and just like last year, we got lost trying to follow the not-drawn-to scale map Brad printed out. So we did a lot of doubling back and instead of riding for the three or so miles, we did around 7 and change. Then we decided to go back and try to figure out how we screwed everything up and tried to do it right this time. We almost did. At first I really didn't want to. My head totally wasn't getting any better with the riding. What a farce that exercise is supposed to make headaches and such better...Then I realized we were going to have to ride Heartbreak hill again. I swear, its a hill that goes up at a 90 degree angle. It is steep and long. The first time we rode it today my chain popped off, I fixed it and it locked up as Brad called it. The next time we did it I had no problem getting up the hill. Even with tired legs, I made it up so I was glad we did it.
But my head kept hurting, and I was kind of miserable. To top it off there was no water left in our water bottles and my mouth was as pasty as a kindergarten kid's macaroni picture. We decide to go back to the car. When we got to the car, all I could think of is there is a cooler in that car with water bottles filled with ice. I would have salivated, if there was any saliva to do it with. I hop off of my bike, look at my husband and there was his beautiful face. Only it wasn't beautiful, it was wracked with pure, abject terror. "What, what is it? I ask, scared to hear the answer. "I lost the truck key", was his reply. "What?" I asked incredulously. He repeats himself, "I lost the key. My bike bag opened up when we were riding and it must have fallen out somewhere". I start to panic, I am thirsty, I want the water that is locked in the truck, so I say, "Okay, we'll use your cell phone to call", which at that moment I see locked in the car with mine, and I let the rest of that sentence trail off into nothing-ness. "What are we gonna do", I almost shriek. I want the water in that truck. Brad says, "I am going to go look for it" "On the trails", I ask again incredulous. Then I am thinking, I don't want to ride heartbreak hill again. I am so over this. Brad leaves without me.
I sat on the back of his truck for about 30-45 minutes. I finally decide I am going to go into the office and ask to use the phone. I will call the one friend I have down here and ask her to bring me my keys. She'll save us! So I go, figuring I was the sensible one. I wanted to cry, but alas, I was so freakin dehydrated there was no extra water for tears. I go into the office and explain my dilemma. They let me use their phone no problem. The ladies in the office laughed when I told them my husband was actually looking for the key. Someone piped up, in the future when they are doing an archaelogical dig they will find the key and ask wonderously, "What do you think they used this for?"
So I go back out to the truck and I sit and chat with everyone who walks by. In the meantime I say a few prayers to St. Anthony. The patron saint of lost keys, remote controls, left sneakers, eyeglasses... Then the next thing you know, here comes Brad. His smile as big as my thirst. In his hand was a tennis bracelet...Oooo, I must have been delirious from lack of water. No, not a tennis bracelet, almost as good though, in his hand was a key, THE truck key!!! I grabbed the key, opened the door, ripped the cooler opened gave him a water bottle, one for myself and we drank, and drank and drank. We shared the last bottle as we laughed on the way home.
I did call my friend to let her know she didn't need to save me, even though she was so willing to do it. A big hat tip and hearty thanks to you my friend for your help.
Tomorrow is the Muddy Buddy. I am not so nervous about this race. I still have butterflies, but they're the little ones with little timberland boots on kicking the wall of my stomach as opposed to the lunar moth sized ones that are usually there with their Doc Martens on. Here's to crawling through the Mud with my Bud...
Enough of my belly aching, hahaha hormonal humor, no pun intended, anyway we get to the park, unload our bikes, reattach the front tires and get ready to ride. Brad grabbed the car key, put it in the little bag on the back of his bike and off we went. We tried following the map, and just like last year, we got lost trying to follow the not-drawn-to scale map Brad printed out. So we did a lot of doubling back and instead of riding for the three or so miles, we did around 7 and change. Then we decided to go back and try to figure out how we screwed everything up and tried to do it right this time. We almost did. At first I really didn't want to. My head totally wasn't getting any better with the riding. What a farce that exercise is supposed to make headaches and such better...Then I realized we were going to have to ride Heartbreak hill again. I swear, its a hill that goes up at a 90 degree angle. It is steep and long. The first time we rode it today my chain popped off, I fixed it and it locked up as Brad called it. The next time we did it I had no problem getting up the hill. Even with tired legs, I made it up so I was glad we did it.
But my head kept hurting, and I was kind of miserable. To top it off there was no water left in our water bottles and my mouth was as pasty as a kindergarten kid's macaroni picture. We decide to go back to the car. When we got to the car, all I could think of is there is a cooler in that car with water bottles filled with ice. I would have salivated, if there was any saliva to do it with. I hop off of my bike, look at my husband and there was his beautiful face. Only it wasn't beautiful, it was wracked with pure, abject terror. "What, what is it? I ask, scared to hear the answer. "I lost the truck key", was his reply. "What?" I asked incredulously. He repeats himself, "I lost the key. My bike bag opened up when we were riding and it must have fallen out somewhere". I start to panic, I am thirsty, I want the water that is locked in the truck, so I say, "Okay, we'll use your cell phone to call", which at that moment I see locked in the car with mine, and I let the rest of that sentence trail off into nothing-ness. "What are we gonna do", I almost shriek. I want the water in that truck. Brad says, "I am going to go look for it" "On the trails", I ask again incredulous. Then I am thinking, I don't want to ride heartbreak hill again. I am so over this. Brad leaves without me.
I sat on the back of his truck for about 30-45 minutes. I finally decide I am going to go into the office and ask to use the phone. I will call the one friend I have down here and ask her to bring me my keys. She'll save us! So I go, figuring I was the sensible one. I wanted to cry, but alas, I was so freakin dehydrated there was no extra water for tears. I go into the office and explain my dilemma. They let me use their phone no problem. The ladies in the office laughed when I told them my husband was actually looking for the key. Someone piped up, in the future when they are doing an archaelogical dig they will find the key and ask wonderously, "What do you think they used this for?"
So I go back out to the truck and I sit and chat with everyone who walks by. In the meantime I say a few prayers to St. Anthony. The patron saint of lost keys, remote controls, left sneakers, eyeglasses... Then the next thing you know, here comes Brad. His smile as big as my thirst. In his hand was a tennis bracelet...Oooo, I must have been delirious from lack of water. No, not a tennis bracelet, almost as good though, in his hand was a key, THE truck key!!! I grabbed the key, opened the door, ripped the cooler opened gave him a water bottle, one for myself and we drank, and drank and drank. We shared the last bottle as we laughed on the way home.
I did call my friend to let her know she didn't need to save me, even though she was so willing to do it. A big hat tip and hearty thanks to you my friend for your help.
Tomorrow is the Muddy Buddy. I am not so nervous about this race. I still have butterflies, but they're the little ones with little timberland boots on kicking the wall of my stomach as opposed to the lunar moth sized ones that are usually there with their Doc Martens on. Here's to crawling through the Mud with my Bud...
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Thursday, I really did it
No I have no training to report today. Brad did, but this isn't the Brad the Reluctant Triathlete, it's Dee the well you get the gist of it. When I looked out my back door when I let my dog Beau out and I could only see the top of his head, I knew it was time to get around to mowing the lawn. I had to put a bright orange safety vest on our 5 year old when I let her out in order to find her. So my bike ride was sidetracked by yard work.
You know how I write that Brad always asks me if I want to do a particular workout with him, like I'd have a choice, well he did ask me to ride with him today. And I finally did it, I finally said no. Strangely, I didn't feel triumphant by saying no, I kept wishing I was riding instead of pushing the mower. Shhhhh, don't tell him I said that. I think he sort of likes to hear my unethusiatic, apathetic response whenever he excitedly asks me something silly like, Hey Dee, let's ride for 50 miles, then run for 13.1 miles and start with a 1.25 mile swim. Isn't that a great idea??? And then you get me going in response, "uhm, okay" or "I guess so".
I do power mowing. I like to get the yard done as quickly as possible. I totally busted my butt racing around the yard with the mower, scooping the yard and whacking the yard. I got the whole kit and kaboodle done in under two hours. Not too shabby. It definitely wasn't a 28 mile bike ride, but I was not sitting on my rear end either. Plus I got the girls to weed the front flower bed for me. That yard looks infinitely better.
I think we need to finally get that dump of mulch I have been threatening to get now since March. Maybe I will hook a wagon up behind my bike and tow it back and forth between here and the mulch place.
I am getting really nervous for the NYC tri. I can't stop thinking about it. I need to figure out a way to get over the nerves I get before I compete. Maybe running through Central Park dressed like Wonder Woman will do it. Maybe I will wear my Wonder Woman suit under my wetsuit and play Wonder Woman that day too....
You know how I write that Brad always asks me if I want to do a particular workout with him, like I'd have a choice, well he did ask me to ride with him today. And I finally did it, I finally said no. Strangely, I didn't feel triumphant by saying no, I kept wishing I was riding instead of pushing the mower. Shhhhh, don't tell him I said that. I think he sort of likes to hear my unethusiatic, apathetic response whenever he excitedly asks me something silly like, Hey Dee, let's ride for 50 miles, then run for 13.1 miles and start with a 1.25 mile swim. Isn't that a great idea??? And then you get me going in response, "uhm, okay" or "I guess so".
I do power mowing. I like to get the yard done as quickly as possible. I totally busted my butt racing around the yard with the mower, scooping the yard and whacking the yard. I got the whole kit and kaboodle done in under two hours. Not too shabby. It definitely wasn't a 28 mile bike ride, but I was not sitting on my rear end either. Plus I got the girls to weed the front flower bed for me. That yard looks infinitely better.
I think we need to finally get that dump of mulch I have been threatening to get now since March. Maybe I will hook a wagon up behind my bike and tow it back and forth between here and the mulch place.
I am getting really nervous for the NYC tri. I can't stop thinking about it. I need to figure out a way to get over the nerves I get before I compete. Maybe running through Central Park dressed like Wonder Woman will do it. Maybe I will wear my Wonder Woman suit under my wetsuit and play Wonder Woman that day too....
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Wednesday with Wonder Woman revisited
I got my Wonder Woman underwear today! Yea! They look adorable on, I wish my thighs weren't so large, but oh well. I was in the absolute worst mood for most of today.
It all started waking up at 6:50 and I had to get the girls to swimming by 7:30 out at the West End. So of course we were late. Then I made the mistake of weighing myself at the gym there. I can work my rear end off, and the scale doesn't budge at all. I mean that work out last night was killer, as are most of them and the scale doesn't go anywhere except up. Brad, God bless him, he tries to be helpful by throwing things at me like, keep a food journal. Yeah, right, like I will remember to do that. I can't keep up with things I have to do, that's something that would be a real pain in the butt. Here's my today menu, 1 granola bar, 1 strawberry pancake. Lunch was a power ball thing and an Enviga and dinner was two tacos, homemade, grease drained off the 1/2 cup of beef, literally a sprinkle of cheese, a cup of tomatoes and 1/2 cup of lettuce and 1/2 of a chopped avacado. I drank about 12 glasses of water today too because we had a really tough pool workout that we did.
It was another one of those training things Brad was like, hey, you want to go to the pool, like I ever say no, but my reply was more like hmmph, grumble, snort whatever. I was pretty grouchy when he brought it up and didn't feel like being around anyone. But he persisted and I wound up going. Three of our girls suited up and came with so they could practice what they did today at tri camp. Wow, they did really well. My 13 year old was helping my five year old, and both of them did exceptionally. My 9 year old was doing laps and trying her hand at breast stroking.
Anyway, here's how our work out went, 300 meter warm up, 15 X 50 meter at race pace, and 150 meter cool down which I wound up doing 250 meters instead. All together that's what 1300 meters? Once again, Brad was like a torpedo, skimming through the water, then there was me. I look like a sea cucumber slogging along. Here I come, watch out. Brad was doing his 50's in like 35-38 seconds. I was consistenly 10 seconds behind him. I just didn't feel fluid. I felt like an old jalopy sputtering along. I guess it's just part of the way I was feeling today. I am still feeling that way I think. All grouchy and out of sorts.
But back to my original tirade, I can swim like that, eat like I did today and still be the woman with the cheese riddled thighs. That would probably be the reason why I am so pissy.
And to top it all off I am losing another toenail. Second one on my right foot. I lost it last season too. I can't wear any socks that are remotely snug fitting when I run. If I do, that toe on each foot hurts like crazy for days afterwards. So I wear my husband's Floppy the Banjo Playing clown sized socks and risk blisters. I noticed the color starting to change a little this morning. I should just cut that knuckle off of that toe and save myself the pain.
But anyway, at least my Wonder Woman undies came today. I wished they looked better, but alas! They look how they look! I am going to be a super hero for a whole mile and a half of my life. That's longer then some people get right?
It all started waking up at 6:50 and I had to get the girls to swimming by 7:30 out at the West End. So of course we were late. Then I made the mistake of weighing myself at the gym there. I can work my rear end off, and the scale doesn't budge at all. I mean that work out last night was killer, as are most of them and the scale doesn't go anywhere except up. Brad, God bless him, he tries to be helpful by throwing things at me like, keep a food journal. Yeah, right, like I will remember to do that. I can't keep up with things I have to do, that's something that would be a real pain in the butt. Here's my today menu, 1 granola bar, 1 strawberry pancake. Lunch was a power ball thing and an Enviga and dinner was two tacos, homemade, grease drained off the 1/2 cup of beef, literally a sprinkle of cheese, a cup of tomatoes and 1/2 cup of lettuce and 1/2 of a chopped avacado. I drank about 12 glasses of water today too because we had a really tough pool workout that we did.
It was another one of those training things Brad was like, hey, you want to go to the pool, like I ever say no, but my reply was more like hmmph, grumble, snort whatever. I was pretty grouchy when he brought it up and didn't feel like being around anyone. But he persisted and I wound up going. Three of our girls suited up and came with so they could practice what they did today at tri camp. Wow, they did really well. My 13 year old was helping my five year old, and both of them did exceptionally. My 9 year old was doing laps and trying her hand at breast stroking.
Anyway, here's how our work out went, 300 meter warm up, 15 X 50 meter at race pace, and 150 meter cool down which I wound up doing 250 meters instead. All together that's what 1300 meters? Once again, Brad was like a torpedo, skimming through the water, then there was me. I look like a sea cucumber slogging along. Here I come, watch out. Brad was doing his 50's in like 35-38 seconds. I was consistenly 10 seconds behind him. I just didn't feel fluid. I felt like an old jalopy sputtering along. I guess it's just part of the way I was feeling today. I am still feeling that way I think. All grouchy and out of sorts.
But back to my original tirade, I can swim like that, eat like I did today and still be the woman with the cheese riddled thighs. That would probably be the reason why I am so pissy.
And to top it all off I am losing another toenail. Second one on my right foot. I lost it last season too. I can't wear any socks that are remotely snug fitting when I run. If I do, that toe on each foot hurts like crazy for days afterwards. So I wear my husband's Floppy the Banjo Playing clown sized socks and risk blisters. I noticed the color starting to change a little this morning. I should just cut that knuckle off of that toe and save myself the pain.
But anyway, at least my Wonder Woman undies came today. I wished they looked better, but alas! They look how they look! I am going to be a super hero for a whole mile and a half of my life. That's longer then some people get right?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Tuesday and the ten o'clock run
Well Monday wound up being another off day training wise. What does that commercial say, Life comes at you fast? I had so much work to catch up on, and the girls had tri camp. They wanted to get together with their buds afterwards, but I really needed to get work done and I needed it to be interruption free. We did get to meet up with them later and get an ice cream cone, so that was a nice treat.
Then came Tuesday. Busy as heck in the morning, Brad needed to get into the office, and I had to take our van to get the trailer hitch put on so we can have something to hook our bike rack up to when we take out bikes up to NY for the *gulp* triathlon. I am already peeing in my pants nervous at the distance, I'll do okay won't I? To get back to my original thought here, Brad said he'd be home after his meeting around dusk and we'd go run. No problem, except he didn't get home until almost 8:30, by the time we got to the track it was after 9. I like when Brad brings me along on his training runs at the track, he keeps trying to tell me that these will make me faster. I dunno, I haven't seen the improvement though. So anyway, we have 3 of our girls and an assortment of outdoor toys for them to play with, it's almost dark, thankfully the tennis court nearby has bright, stadium style lights and it throws enough light our way. We start our warm up with a slow jog, family style. The girls were trotting along side of us and it was pretty nice. Then on our last lap, Katie fell down, nothing serious but that sort of broke up the relaxed jog we were doing. It was time to get our heart rates up anyway. Brad said he needed to run 400m, one lap, at an accelerated race pace. He was aiming for around a 5 minute mile pace. Mind you we only needed to do one lap, this would be doable wouldn't it? Did I mention my teenager knocking on my door at 5AM to tell me her throat hurt and me taking her downstairs to get some Motrin to find the devastation that is Apollo wreaked all over the downstairs? He got into Erin's old backpack because she had left over snacks from the school year in there. He also ate, in no particular order, her yearbook, two folders, a doll, an old notebook, a plastic baggie filled with pretzels, a bunch of crayons, a couple of pencils, the box Heather's new sneakers came in and a picture frame. And it's not like he ever finishes what he starts munching on. He chews everything and spits it out, it drives me crazy! At least eat the whole thing and I would never know right??? The downstairs looked like a war zone in a stationary store, the carnage was frightening. I cleaned up, went back upstairs and started watching TV. Once again, in no particular order, I watched the Tour de France, BBC America this money in your attic show with some old guy that collected irons, my favorite appliance in the whole world excuse the sarcasm, and Reefer Madness which had me laughing so hard, I had to switch stations and start watching my local news, to which I eventually dozed.
Okay, off track again, no pun intended, back on track, another running pun hahahaha, I just wanted you to feel sorry for me being as exhausted as I was and here I am out with the bats running. So our girls give us the On your mark, get set, go. Boom, like a cannon ball shot from a cannon, off my husband goes. Flying around the track, then there was me. Speedy as a cork shot from a pop gun! I felt like I looked like Crazy Legs Maguillacuddy. I didn't imagine I looked graceful like my husband did. I felt like I was flailing in all directions. But, in a minute and thirty one for my first lap, I was done. Brad was done in a minute and sixteen I think. Holy cow, if I could keep that pace, I'd be doing a 6 minute mile, unprecedented for me! Now, I only had to do it five more times, wheeee! My second lap was just about the same, as was the third. By the time I hit the fourth lap, I was around 1:35, and as I was finishing I realized that sour taste in my mouth was actually barf begging to come up. Ugh, do I really want to do this 2 more times? The next thing I hear is my girls telling me how awesome I am, how proud they are of me, what's two more times? Who's da woman they keep saying, I answer back meekly, I am? Da woman trying not to hurl on her sneakers. Okay, I can do this I tell the little man in my head. The fifth time, she was a bad one senor (imagine Speedy gonzales' voice here, why is the little man in my head is a mouse cartoon character???). I had to walk far away from everyone because the gag reflex was hard to repress. Then my husband Mike Brady, says something that resonates something in me. "This last lap is the one that's going to make all of the difference. The one you don't want to do, when you do it, it's the one that makes the difference." Maybe there's something to that. My most rewarding workouts are the ones I literally have to drag myself to. Okay, I can do this, I can do this. Our girls give us the go, and there I went. Did I feel good, I tried to tell myself I did. The first 50 meters weren't so bad, the rest were killer. But I finished, just around the same times as all of my other laps, so I was happy. I think Brad was right, I walked quicker to the car then I did when we got to the track. I was faster! Maybe it was the lights had gone out and it was reeaaalllyyy dark, maybe it was just my bed calling me, the lure of sleep, or maybe, just maybe, I was so proud of myself for being able to do this yucky training session, that I was faster, who knows? But it was 10:00 and an hour past my bedtime!
Then came Tuesday. Busy as heck in the morning, Brad needed to get into the office, and I had to take our van to get the trailer hitch put on so we can have something to hook our bike rack up to when we take out bikes up to NY for the *gulp* triathlon. I am already peeing in my pants nervous at the distance, I'll do okay won't I? To get back to my original thought here, Brad said he'd be home after his meeting around dusk and we'd go run. No problem, except he didn't get home until almost 8:30, by the time we got to the track it was after 9. I like when Brad brings me along on his training runs at the track, he keeps trying to tell me that these will make me faster. I dunno, I haven't seen the improvement though. So anyway, we have 3 of our girls and an assortment of outdoor toys for them to play with, it's almost dark, thankfully the tennis court nearby has bright, stadium style lights and it throws enough light our way. We start our warm up with a slow jog, family style. The girls were trotting along side of us and it was pretty nice. Then on our last lap, Katie fell down, nothing serious but that sort of broke up the relaxed jog we were doing. It was time to get our heart rates up anyway. Brad said he needed to run 400m, one lap, at an accelerated race pace. He was aiming for around a 5 minute mile pace. Mind you we only needed to do one lap, this would be doable wouldn't it? Did I mention my teenager knocking on my door at 5AM to tell me her throat hurt and me taking her downstairs to get some Motrin to find the devastation that is Apollo wreaked all over the downstairs? He got into Erin's old backpack because she had left over snacks from the school year in there. He also ate, in no particular order, her yearbook, two folders, a doll, an old notebook, a plastic baggie filled with pretzels, a bunch of crayons, a couple of pencils, the box Heather's new sneakers came in and a picture frame. And it's not like he ever finishes what he starts munching on. He chews everything and spits it out, it drives me crazy! At least eat the whole thing and I would never know right??? The downstairs looked like a war zone in a stationary store, the carnage was frightening. I cleaned up, went back upstairs and started watching TV. Once again, in no particular order, I watched the Tour de France, BBC America this money in your attic show with some old guy that collected irons, my favorite appliance in the whole world excuse the sarcasm, and Reefer Madness which had me laughing so hard, I had to switch stations and start watching my local news, to which I eventually dozed.
Okay, off track again, no pun intended, back on track, another running pun hahahaha, I just wanted you to feel sorry for me being as exhausted as I was and here I am out with the bats running. So our girls give us the On your mark, get set, go. Boom, like a cannon ball shot from a cannon, off my husband goes. Flying around the track, then there was me. Speedy as a cork shot from a pop gun! I felt like I looked like Crazy Legs Maguillacuddy. I didn't imagine I looked graceful like my husband did. I felt like I was flailing in all directions. But, in a minute and thirty one for my first lap, I was done. Brad was done in a minute and sixteen I think. Holy cow, if I could keep that pace, I'd be doing a 6 minute mile, unprecedented for me! Now, I only had to do it five more times, wheeee! My second lap was just about the same, as was the third. By the time I hit the fourth lap, I was around 1:35, and as I was finishing I realized that sour taste in my mouth was actually barf begging to come up. Ugh, do I really want to do this 2 more times? The next thing I hear is my girls telling me how awesome I am, how proud they are of me, what's two more times? Who's da woman they keep saying, I answer back meekly, I am? Da woman trying not to hurl on her sneakers. Okay, I can do this I tell the little man in my head. The fifth time, she was a bad one senor (imagine Speedy gonzales' voice here, why is the little man in my head is a mouse cartoon character???). I had to walk far away from everyone because the gag reflex was hard to repress. Then my husband Mike Brady, says something that resonates something in me. "This last lap is the one that's going to make all of the difference. The one you don't want to do, when you do it, it's the one that makes the difference." Maybe there's something to that. My most rewarding workouts are the ones I literally have to drag myself to. Okay, I can do this, I can do this. Our girls give us the go, and there I went. Did I feel good, I tried to tell myself I did. The first 50 meters weren't so bad, the rest were killer. But I finished, just around the same times as all of my other laps, so I was happy. I think Brad was right, I walked quicker to the car then I did when we got to the track. I was faster! Maybe it was the lights had gone out and it was reeaaalllyyy dark, maybe it was just my bed calling me, the lure of sleep, or maybe, just maybe, I was so proud of myself for being able to do this yucky training session, that I was faster, who knows? But it was 10:00 and an hour past my bedtime!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Sunday, Sunday...
Once again, life has grabbed me by the arm and swung me around. I have a few days worth of posts to catch up on. While I sit with my girls as they try to go to sleep during the storm, I thought I might take advantage of this down time and update my blog.
Friday: Fourth of July! Happy Birthday America. What does any all American, bleeding red, white and blue family do? Why we paint the ice at one of our rinks. As luck would have it one of my girls wasn't feeling well and the weather was kind of crummy. So when my husband called and said he needed our crew of kids and me to help out at the rink, it was Team Robinson to the rescue!!! We came swooping in with trays of chicken cutlet parmigiana in tow for all of our wonderful employees who worked so hard to get the rink ice rebuilt. We pitched in so we could get the grunt work done. We left around 9 or so. On the way home we stopped and watched some fireworks being lit off by one of the subdivisions near our home. When we drove through our subdivision there was so much smoke hanging in the heavy, humid air. We had a storm blow through that had 60 mile and hour winds, knocking down trees and leaving a path of devastation. But the folks in our little community love their fireworks and something like a storm was not going to stop them from illuminating the night sky. I told my husband it looked like we just walked in on the remnants of the last gun fight at the OK Corral. The smoke and gunpowder smell was overpowering. It looked like we were stuck in a fog the likes of which flesh eating zombies would come crawling out from in a horror flick.
I guess working on the ice was our training for the day.
Saturday: Whoopee! Today is Erin's slumber party. Oh how I have waited for this day! No, not really, of course I am being sarcastic! There is nothing like a pack of 9 year old girls to fight over everything and nothing until 4 in the morning. Couple that with the fact that I was trying to keep them quiet because my husband worked for 30 straight hours with no sleep and I was ready to flog a pack of kids. The best part was the party girl, my daughter, behaved the most abhorrently. Another day of no training, I am started to like this! No, no of course I miss my training, I think mostly I have missed my training buddy.
Sunday: Here I am acting like a short order cook for a bunch of cranky, underslept 9 year olds. I actually had one little sprite tell me I needed to feed my family healthier foods. This came about because I let my daughter pick whatever she wanted for breakfast and she chose bacon, egg and cheese biscuits, like the kind at McDonalds. Not that she refused her breakfast, or any of the treats put out for the party.
When the guests left, Brad and I set out for a two hour run. Another whoopee moment for me considering I farted around with party guest until after 3. Then my dog Beau had to go out at 6. Oh boy, a three hour night of sleep, why yes honey, I am unbelievably ready for a two hour run! I can hardly wait. Anyway, enough of my grousing, off we went. It seemed wayyy longer then two hours. The first hour went great. I did actually feel amazing for it. The next fifteen minutes weren't too bad either. It was the last 45 minutes that had Brad running in front of me, me with both my earbuds in and us not talking. Then, in the last 10 minutes, after we got back into our subdivision I had to stop. My tummy felt realllllly weird. Brad doesn't understand stopping for any reason. What, my arm is dangling and hanging on by a vein, must...get...to...the...finish line...must barf when I am done or I haven't raced hard enough. Me, I don't mind stopping if it prevents a problem like pooping in my shorts, or keeping me from barfing like a beer guzzling frat brother. We are two totally different competitors. I admire him and wish I could be that fierce, but I just don't think like that.
Maybe someday, and that might be the day that I find myself actually pleased with how I do instead of walking around saying at least I finished.
Friday: Fourth of July! Happy Birthday America. What does any all American, bleeding red, white and blue family do? Why we paint the ice at one of our rinks. As luck would have it one of my girls wasn't feeling well and the weather was kind of crummy. So when my husband called and said he needed our crew of kids and me to help out at the rink, it was Team Robinson to the rescue!!! We came swooping in with trays of chicken cutlet parmigiana in tow for all of our wonderful employees who worked so hard to get the rink ice rebuilt. We pitched in so we could get the grunt work done. We left around 9 or so. On the way home we stopped and watched some fireworks being lit off by one of the subdivisions near our home. When we drove through our subdivision there was so much smoke hanging in the heavy, humid air. We had a storm blow through that had 60 mile and hour winds, knocking down trees and leaving a path of devastation. But the folks in our little community love their fireworks and something like a storm was not going to stop them from illuminating the night sky. I told my husband it looked like we just walked in on the remnants of the last gun fight at the OK Corral. The smoke and gunpowder smell was overpowering. It looked like we were stuck in a fog the likes of which flesh eating zombies would come crawling out from in a horror flick.
I guess working on the ice was our training for the day.
Saturday: Whoopee! Today is Erin's slumber party. Oh how I have waited for this day! No, not really, of course I am being sarcastic! There is nothing like a pack of 9 year old girls to fight over everything and nothing until 4 in the morning. Couple that with the fact that I was trying to keep them quiet because my husband worked for 30 straight hours with no sleep and I was ready to flog a pack of kids. The best part was the party girl, my daughter, behaved the most abhorrently. Another day of no training, I am started to like this! No, no of course I miss my training, I think mostly I have missed my training buddy.
Sunday: Here I am acting like a short order cook for a bunch of cranky, underslept 9 year olds. I actually had one little sprite tell me I needed to feed my family healthier foods. This came about because I let my daughter pick whatever she wanted for breakfast and she chose bacon, egg and cheese biscuits, like the kind at McDonalds. Not that she refused her breakfast, or any of the treats put out for the party.
When the guests left, Brad and I set out for a two hour run. Another whoopee moment for me considering I farted around with party guest until after 3. Then my dog Beau had to go out at 6. Oh boy, a three hour night of sleep, why yes honey, I am unbelievably ready for a two hour run! I can hardly wait. Anyway, enough of my grousing, off we went. It seemed wayyy longer then two hours. The first hour went great. I did actually feel amazing for it. The next fifteen minutes weren't too bad either. It was the last 45 minutes that had Brad running in front of me, me with both my earbuds in and us not talking. Then, in the last 10 minutes, after we got back into our subdivision I had to stop. My tummy felt realllllly weird. Brad doesn't understand stopping for any reason. What, my arm is dangling and hanging on by a vein, must...get...to...the...finish line...must barf when I am done or I haven't raced hard enough. Me, I don't mind stopping if it prevents a problem like pooping in my shorts, or keeping me from barfing like a beer guzzling frat brother. We are two totally different competitors. I admire him and wish I could be that fierce, but I just don't think like that.
Maybe someday, and that might be the day that I find myself actually pleased with how I do instead of walking around saying at least I finished.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Is it Thursday Already??
I can't believe it's Thursday already! So many things have been happening, I haven't had the time to blog. But I will start with Monday and work my way forward.
Monday: Since we had the race on Sunday, it was an off day training wise. When I threw the question out to my family if anything great has been happening, my teenager just piped up that she was grounded all day, like there's anything new with that right? This was a payroll week so I had to get payroll information for both facilities together. Typical of a payroll week. Two of my daughters had friends sleepover so it was kind of chaotic, but fun.
Tuesday: Open water swim and bike. We went to Robious landing and decided to swim from the boat dock to the horizon (or so it seemed). Brad gets in and this little boy and his mom are standing on the dock. As I am fiddling with my swim cap the woman asks me, Is that gray water snake still around? Uhm, yeah, like okay, now I really want to go in the water teeming with life. Brad says to dive shallow because of the fallen tree, which I think, if I were a snake is exactly where I'd want to live. He's trying to convince me they only stay near the shore, which I highly doubt, but I guess I need to get in or go back to the car. It's the proverbial poop or get off the pot situation. I jump in, which I guess means I took the first of the two choices, and that is another reason I hate swimming in the James. I think of all the "stuff" that might be floating around not dissimilar to a rice krispy floating in a bowl of milk, my husband is right, I think toooo much when I am in the water. So anyway, we're off, there goes Sparky. I am keeping pace with Brad and oh so proud of myself until he says, I'm going slow for your sake. I will keep checking on you. Talk about taking the wind out of my sails! I felt kind of badly for him, he had to keep stopping. I kept going. No wait, I feel badly for me! He got to take breaks, I kept plowing through! After 40 minutes of swimming we get out, dry off and head for the bikes.
We decided to do the Winterfield route that is the bike route for the ACAC tri. It's funny, even with the awful hills and everything, it was waaaaayyyyy easier then the tri last year for sure. I didn't even use my little ring, which finally worked when I was fiddling with my gears before we started really getting serious. The ride went great, and that's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday:
It is my third daughter's birthday! Whooppee, she's 9 now. It was official by 1:30 in the afternoon. Our whole day revolved around making cakes, friends being over, planning a small slumber soiree for her and getting the date nailed down. That will be on Saturday. I am waiting with baited breath! I did get up early this AM to get the girls to tri camp swimming for 7:30. I spoke with a very nice tri camp mom, Elizabeth, so it was a morning that was relaxing and enjoyable. I did a post office run and dealt with the most hysterical postal employee. I was trying to send something a certain way, but it was cheaper if I put it in a bigger envelope, and then she said she could get fired for telling me that. Then she quips, "now you know why we go postal..." hahahaha! A postal employee with a sense of humor, I like that.
Thursday:
We are still in the throes of Thursday so I might need to repost here after awhile, but I took the girls to tri camp today, it was biking. I decide to hit the trails and run while the girls bike. Sounds like a plan, well while I am running this loop I invented in my head I come across a cop car. No big deal, I do the loop again there's two cop cars now, hmmmmm, somethings gotta be up. One more loop and wham, there's a third car. Now the hair on my neck is standing up. Something is definitely going on, they have to be looking for someone right? I run to where they're mountain biking, all is good, loop around and run right into three cops. Natural reaction, a hold ever from the younger days, is I stop dead in my tracks and think about booking the other way. But no, I say to myself, I'll look guilty. What if some woman dressed in green, did I mention my running outfit today is all green, did something wrong, they'll hunt me down like an animal. So after my hesistation, and their glares, I run past them and start my cool down. Why did I feel like I did something wrong? Just the look they gave me, I felt so guilty for what, running as lousy as I do? "Stop right there ma'am, were going to have to write you a citation". "But officer what did I do wrong??" "It's your running ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to cease and desist or you'll have to come with me." I think too much when I run too I guess.
When I get home, my husband says, who's going to do my mile repeats with me? Why me of course! How does one get to Carnegie Hall? How does one get to the Iron Man some day? Practice, practice, practice....
So off we go to SCMS to run on the track there. I have a cooler with G2 in it and a couple of water bottles. Brad asks if I'm ready to start, am I ever? Okay, let's go. I start running, I feel good. It's New Dehli hot out there today too. Lap 1, oooh, I'm running this in 1 1/2 minutes. Lap 2, I did the same, whoa baby, I am flying! Lap 3 I slow down some. I did that one in 2 minutes and 25 seconds, last one was 2 minutes 25 seconds again. I did a mile in 7.5 minutes. Legendary for me! I was so excited! I did run for 40 minutes this morning, and the fact that I could come home and run a mile in 7.5 minutes, I am amazed I could do it. There were supposed to be 4 that we did, but the heat was too much for me. I did do another one, not in that awesome pace, but I did it in 8.5 minutes. That one made me pretty weak and shaky. I thought it would be in my best interest to stop. I kept reminding myself that it was 95 degrees outside and that I ran 40 minutes this morning and I ran that pretty hard. I would do 9 minutes at an uncomfortable pace and slow down for a few minutes, then do it again. that track workout was some of my best running yet. Maybe those police officers in my head won't cite me after all....
Monday: Since we had the race on Sunday, it was an off day training wise. When I threw the question out to my family if anything great has been happening, my teenager just piped up that she was grounded all day, like there's anything new with that right? This was a payroll week so I had to get payroll information for both facilities together. Typical of a payroll week. Two of my daughters had friends sleepover so it was kind of chaotic, but fun.
Tuesday: Open water swim and bike. We went to Robious landing and decided to swim from the boat dock to the horizon (or so it seemed). Brad gets in and this little boy and his mom are standing on the dock. As I am fiddling with my swim cap the woman asks me, Is that gray water snake still around? Uhm, yeah, like okay, now I really want to go in the water teeming with life. Brad says to dive shallow because of the fallen tree, which I think, if I were a snake is exactly where I'd want to live. He's trying to convince me they only stay near the shore, which I highly doubt, but I guess I need to get in or go back to the car. It's the proverbial poop or get off the pot situation. I jump in, which I guess means I took the first of the two choices, and that is another reason I hate swimming in the James. I think of all the "stuff" that might be floating around not dissimilar to a rice krispy floating in a bowl of milk, my husband is right, I think toooo much when I am in the water. So anyway, we're off, there goes Sparky. I am keeping pace with Brad and oh so proud of myself until he says, I'm going slow for your sake. I will keep checking on you. Talk about taking the wind out of my sails! I felt kind of badly for him, he had to keep stopping. I kept going. No wait, I feel badly for me! He got to take breaks, I kept plowing through! After 40 minutes of swimming we get out, dry off and head for the bikes.
We decided to do the Winterfield route that is the bike route for the ACAC tri. It's funny, even with the awful hills and everything, it was waaaaayyyyy easier then the tri last year for sure. I didn't even use my little ring, which finally worked when I was fiddling with my gears before we started really getting serious. The ride went great, and that's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday:
It is my third daughter's birthday! Whooppee, she's 9 now. It was official by 1:30 in the afternoon. Our whole day revolved around making cakes, friends being over, planning a small slumber soiree for her and getting the date nailed down. That will be on Saturday. I am waiting with baited breath! I did get up early this AM to get the girls to tri camp swimming for 7:30. I spoke with a very nice tri camp mom, Elizabeth, so it was a morning that was relaxing and enjoyable. I did a post office run and dealt with the most hysterical postal employee. I was trying to send something a certain way, but it was cheaper if I put it in a bigger envelope, and then she said she could get fired for telling me that. Then she quips, "now you know why we go postal..." hahahaha! A postal employee with a sense of humor, I like that.
Thursday:
We are still in the throes of Thursday so I might need to repost here after awhile, but I took the girls to tri camp today, it was biking. I decide to hit the trails and run while the girls bike. Sounds like a plan, well while I am running this loop I invented in my head I come across a cop car. No big deal, I do the loop again there's two cop cars now, hmmmmm, somethings gotta be up. One more loop and wham, there's a third car. Now the hair on my neck is standing up. Something is definitely going on, they have to be looking for someone right? I run to where they're mountain biking, all is good, loop around and run right into three cops. Natural reaction, a hold ever from the younger days, is I stop dead in my tracks and think about booking the other way. But no, I say to myself, I'll look guilty. What if some woman dressed in green, did I mention my running outfit today is all green, did something wrong, they'll hunt me down like an animal. So after my hesistation, and their glares, I run past them and start my cool down. Why did I feel like I did something wrong? Just the look they gave me, I felt so guilty for what, running as lousy as I do? "Stop right there ma'am, were going to have to write you a citation". "But officer what did I do wrong??" "It's your running ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to cease and desist or you'll have to come with me." I think too much when I run too I guess.
When I get home, my husband says, who's going to do my mile repeats with me? Why me of course! How does one get to Carnegie Hall? How does one get to the Iron Man some day? Practice, practice, practice....
So off we go to SCMS to run on the track there. I have a cooler with G2 in it and a couple of water bottles. Brad asks if I'm ready to start, am I ever? Okay, let's go. I start running, I feel good. It's New Dehli hot out there today too. Lap 1, oooh, I'm running this in 1 1/2 minutes. Lap 2, I did the same, whoa baby, I am flying! Lap 3 I slow down some. I did that one in 2 minutes and 25 seconds, last one was 2 minutes 25 seconds again. I did a mile in 7.5 minutes. Legendary for me! I was so excited! I did run for 40 minutes this morning, and the fact that I could come home and run a mile in 7.5 minutes, I am amazed I could do it. There were supposed to be 4 that we did, but the heat was too much for me. I did do another one, not in that awesome pace, but I did it in 8.5 minutes. That one made me pretty weak and shaky. I thought it would be in my best interest to stop. I kept reminding myself that it was 95 degrees outside and that I ran 40 minutes this morning and I ran that pretty hard. I would do 9 minutes at an uncomfortable pace and slow down for a few minutes, then do it again. that track workout was some of my best running yet. Maybe those police officers in my head won't cite me after all....
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