I know my blogging has been sporadic at best. Between the kids, triathlon training and the time sucker of life aka The PTO Pasta Dinner, somehow blogging has just slipped. Fortunately, everything is good...even the fundraiser.
However, March is an important transitional month for me. It is the time of year when I shift from exercise to training, as I prepare for my third triathlon season. This year my training is mainly focused on the Nautica New York City triathlon. It's my first time doing an Olympic distance tri. My training buddy and the cyclist from my relay team are also doing it. Since I am a veteran, surely I should be done being neurotic about tris. Gone is my first year worry about what to wear. Gone (or perhaps dormant) is my second year fear of being eaten by a shark. Alas, however, there is still something to fear besides fear itself.
My new fear is the bike. Actually this is a fear from last season, but it is no longer overshadowed by the prospect of imminent death from a shark. Last season I started having problems with my bike chain falling off while I was riding. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal. However, I can't always get my feet out of the clipless pedals in time, particularly since it usually happens going up a hill, so the bike won't coast forward to give me time to unclip. I therefore suffer from a slow motion bike crash that does extreme injury to my pride. Hey, I would even laugh if I saw myself falling.
Believe it or not, some of my fellow athletes are convinced that this is because I am more confident I with my biking and therefore more willing to experiment with the different gears. I may be changing them too late. Fortunately one of my cyclist relaymate has offered to help me. His help has also helped me solve on of my previous exercise mysteries...why some people go to spinning class decked out in biking gear to ride a stationary bike.
Apparently many spinners have a computrainer. This is a computer bike that allows you to virtually ride different bike courses. Kind of like a Wii and bike in one. My teammate not only has a computrainer, but his wife got him the program for the Nautica NYC bike course. I'm helping him with improve his swimming, and he's helping me with the biking. I think I have the better deal here! I may continue to laugh at those wearing biking gear to spinning, but if it will improve my cycling skills, I will soon be laughing at myself when wearing my helmet and sunglasses in spinning class.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Wearing biking gear to use a stationary bike is not necessarily a sign of insanity.
Do not bow to the pressure. Do not wear a helmet and sunglasses to class :) Would it help at all to have clip pedals instead? J-Lo used them for her triathlon :)
How are the holidays almost here?! Seriously weren't we just installing our air conditioners for the summer? Within our home, the holiday tradition seems to be that every year we do something different. We've had dinner here, eaten out, gone to friends, had friends come over here, gone to NYC and PA, and gone to Chicago.
This year we realized that Thanksgiving was quickly approaching and we had no idea what we wanted to do. I for one don't particularly like Thanksgiving Day food. Or perhaps I should say that I don't like the implication of Thanksgiving Day food. It's fine for one meal and maybe as a leftover meal the next day. However, that's about it. No matter how you disguise it, by Saturday you are eating dry, leftover turkey and soggy, leftover stuffing, possibly poorly disguised as a new dish. All the good foods, mainly the pies, are long gone. I suggested to the Big Giraffe that if we really wanted to celebrate family and good food, we should throw a couple frozen pizzas in the oven and serve them with a big bag of Halloween candy. I can guarantee given a choice between turkey and pumpkin pie or pizza and candy the boys would choose the latter. Frankly so would I.
I also get incredibly homesick on Thanksgiving. On top of it, as a college freshman, I developed viral meningitis when flying home to celebrate Thanksgiving. While I'm not a germophobe by any means, I have a really hard time flying around Thanksgiving. Even for those who haven't gotten sick, Thanksgiving is the busiest travel time of the year.
The question became how to make this holiday that I don't really enjoy a fun holiday for the kids? The BG agreed to be in charge of dinner this year. Okay. He made a dinner reservation for us. Fabulous...except that it could mean an argument with the boys who believe that major holidays should be celebrated by enjoying pajama days at home. Hmmm....an argument can be easily avoided if I am out of the house when they wake up. I decided that I wanted to do a 5k Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning. I specifically chose one where the proceeds go to a food pantry. Seems like that's in keeping with a holiday about food.
Yesterday my parents sent us up a rotisserie. I suggested to the Big Giraffe that this offered him additional options, such as cooking a small turkey or turkey breast in it! The BG immediately began perusing our new cookbooks, and he made a fabulous roast chicken tonight!
So, I'll be running, the boys will get to have a pajama day, and the BG will get to cook. Unfortunately the times don't quite work perfectly. Unless he is planning on making the dinner at 8 am, I will be home long before he begins his preparations, which means he and I may have an argument if he is not open to the insightful observations I like to share while he is cooking. He describes them as micromanagement. I don't want to fight during the holidays, so clearly I should nap while he's making dinner.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Pajamas, rotisseries, and naps are all things for which one can be thankful.
I've never really understood why it's such a given that Thanksgiving and Christmas have with a fairly big certainty turkey on the menu.....that must get boring no?
we don't have thanksgiving but for Christmas we put anything on the menu that we feel like (and that's a bit festive): turkey, fish, wild, fondue, ......
Like my initial interest in doing a triathlon, it started as a joke. My training buddy mentioned that she and her neighbor were thinking about doing the New York City triathlon. I asked the obvious question: Where is the swim?
When she responded it was in the Hudson River I laughed. However the more she talked about it, the more interesting it sounded. In fact when I got home I looked it up. Then I told the Big Giraffe. He was born and bred in NYC. The more he thought about a swim in the Hudson the more he laughed. In fact when he found out that I was serious about it he was surprised. However, the more he heard about it the more fun he thought it would be. The catch was that registration opened at 12:01 am, and there were only 3,500 slots. The website said that last year the race sold out in 22 minutes.
On Halloween night I had a flashback to getting Eric Clapton tickets in high school. Alarms were set and each friend tried her best to get through on the phone. Then we tried to get through to each other that we had gotten the tickets so as to not end up with several hundred dollars worth of tickets. Only technology and our age have changed. This time alarms were set just in case we nodded off...hey we're old now! We each sat at our laptops waiting for the clock to light up with 12. Unlike high school, we even enlisted our spouses to help. The Big Giraffe was able to get into the site, enabling me to abandon my computer. Phew! The race sold out in 7 minutes this year! Unfortunately my buddy's neighbor was not able to get through, but the cousin with whom she had been planning on racing also didn't get in which overall they were happy about because this way they can do another race together .
I like the website for this tri. It claims that a bag of Cheetos was able to complete the swim course in 25 minutes. A friend who's done it before believed it. She said that the current is so strong that you have to hold onto a rope when you enter the water until you start.
And this will be my first Olympic distance tri. For those of you who are doing the race as well, I will quote the website and say "See you July 18th in the Hudson!"
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There is nothing crazy about swimming in the Hudson; running 6 miles through New York City in July after swimming in the Hudson and biking is another story.
This past weekend was FIRMMAN, the half Ironman that I relayed. Perhaps I should say the weekend I had my near death experience. I'm kidding. Well sort of anyway.
I arrived in Narragansett, RI late on Saturday night. Right away hotel patrons starting talking about how the waves were 12 feet high. What?! Tell me again why I was doing this?
The next morning my relay team and I arrived promptly at 5 AM when the transition area opened. I was amazed with how crowded it already was. Good thing we got there early because the swimming start was 3/4 of a mile away from the transition area. We had a "J" course as they call it. It didn't look exactly like a J to me, but I got why they call it that. Basically you swim from shore out to the first buoy, turn right, swim the majority of the course parallel to show, turn right around another buoy and swim into shore on a diagonal. When you finish you're right by the transition area.
I went walked down to the start with a bunch of athletes. I was already nervous about the waves. People were saying they were five footers. One woman told me to be careful when choosing which wave to dive under because if I misjudged another larger wave would hit me in the face when I surfaced.
I was the fourth heat: men 29+ and relays. The horn blew and off we went. I angled to the left of the buoy because of the current. I saw what I thought was the first big wave and dove under it only to be hit in the face with another much larger wave and dragged under it. Then it happened immediately again. By this point I had been dragged half way out between the shore and the first buoy. I seriously contemplated turning around and going back to shore. I felt like I couldn't get my breath and the waves just kept coming. I decided to just stop and try to get a grip. After calming down I decided that I would go out to the first buoy. There was a lifeguard on a kayak right there. If I made it to the first buoy and still felt like I couldn't make the swim, I would ask that person to take me into shore. If not, then I should be okay for the rest of the swim.
Swimming breaststroke I made it to the first buoy. My angling did work out perfectly and I arrived right next to the buoy. By then I was fine because the water was deep enough that the waves weren't breaking anymore. I was also swimming parallel to shore instead of into the waves. I couldn't breathe to my left because of the waves, but that was alright. The rest of the swim was great. Coming in was a little scary again because the waves were going right over me as soon as I hit shallower water. However, I took the advice of that woman and body surfed in. I finished with a group of swimmers two heats in front of me. I was really pleased with my race. I know I lost a lot of time in the beginning, but next year I'll know what to expect. Yes, my relay and I already decided to do it again next year. We're registering next month when registration opens.
I haven't gotten to the best part though. Because this was such a big race, they had all sorts of fun stuff for the athletes like massages and wetsuit strippers! I was very intrigued by the idea of the wetsuit strippers. Hey, you're talking to the person who accidentally had the half nude massage a few months ago. Of course I just had to take advantage of this free service that day I had never heard of.
After the swimmers ran over the timing mat with their wetsuits half down, they could lay down on a square of carpet and two guys would grab the top of your wetsuit and pull the whole thing right off of you. I love my new wetsuit, but I have a hard time getting it off my ankles. It all bunches up like a bad pair of rubber pantyhose. I too lay down on the carpet with my wetsuit half off and they yanked it right off of me. Now if only I could take these two guys two all my races....
I had a great time at the race. My teammates were amazing. They are such nice people too. I'm really looking forward to next year and also to Timberman because we're relaying that as well.
So what does a wetsuit have to do with a lemon tart? Oh yeah! Yesterday was my younger son"s (YS)first day of preschool. He was really excited about it until the moment the teacher came to the car. Then there was a lot scowling and some tears. Off he went. I got together with two of my friends who are always inviting me to lunch and I can never make it. We went out to a nice lunch. I had such a good time and enjoyed my lemon tart so much that I almost forgot to pick YS up from preschool! Yes, I am mother of the year. Thank you thank you. My son's first day and instead of anxiously checking the clock in anticipation of pickup, I'm gossiping and sharing desserts. He may have been the second to last kid to be picked up, but I did make it on time! He had a great time and can't wait to go back tomorrow. Good thing I didn't waste energy anxiously worrying about what he was doing, right? At least that's what I've been trying to tell myself!
Lest you think I'm living the life of leisure now that YS is in preschool for a grand total of five hours a week, the next few weeks are filled with various committee meetings and school commitment. Somehow I got sucked into a library expansion committee today as well.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Wetsuit strippers and lemon tarts are two of the finer things in life!
I'm so excited for you! When I first started reading, I thought you meant you had to run 3/4 mile to the transition area after the swim, and I was wondering HOW you could have left that out! I'm looking forward to getting your expertise on swim training...maybe I'll stick to learning about long-distance swim :)
Last month I found out about an open water swim race to benefit a local swim team. It looked like a lot of fun so I decided to register. Unfortunately because of the date, I couldn't find anyone to do it with me. I joked that I was going to be the oldest person in the race.
The official told me that there were older people there. I don't believe it; I think I had a good twenty years on most of the swimmers there! She also insisted that there was no geriatric category, but I noticed that she dug through her papers to pull out a separate sheet from the rest of the registered swimmers that had my name a few others written on it. Age was not my only distinction. My superhero disguise, as I like to refer to my wetsuit, was not exactly subtle. I had assumed that wetsuits would be illegal since this event was through United States Master Swimming, but it turns out that it's up to the event director's discretion. Because it was an open water event and the weather was unseasonably chilly for August, she had mercy on us, so I got to race in my new suit.
I did run into someone I met at the Sudbury Sprint. He was doing his race with his ten year old daughter. I had a nice time chatting with them. I also was pleased to see that he too was wearing a superhero outfit.
I unfortunately achieved a negative personal milestone: I appeared to everyone as a true mom. Did you ever see that episode of Saturday Night Live where they mock mom jeans? I always wondered how those women could not realize how uncool they were. Fast forward to this weekend. I showed up to the race with my Christmas socks, plastic bag and wetsuit. I was magically transformed from cool hip 33 year old to a mom. OMG! My friend was transformed into a true dad.
The realization that I looked uncool wasn't the worst part. It was that I didn't even care. You should have seen these twelve year old girls staring at my friend and me as we donned our wetsuits. They seemed particularly interested in the socks and ziplock bag. Fortunately my kids weren't there to be humiliated. I don't even want to know how much that would cost in therapy bills.
Not caring that I looked uncool also wasn't the worst part; it was that I felt old. They had us line up by event: .5 mile, 1 mile and 2 mile. Turns out I was right about the geriatric group. Sure they claimed that the groups were based on how long we were each going to swim, but one look at those in the 2 mile group with me made it clear that it was a cruel reference to the fact that a few of the competitors already have more mileage on our personal odometers. Alright, there were a couple of young people in the 2 mile event, but most of them were doing the lesser events leaving only the Magnificent 7, most of us old enough to even get that reference, to swim 2 miles.
Looking prehistoric wasn't my biggest problem; it was the lack of visibility. The course was a 1 mile triangle, marked by 3 orange buoys that would have been bright and shiny beacons in calm waters under clear sunlight. Unfortunately not only was the water choppy, but the rain and fog made it difficult to see. In fact, many swimmers couldn't even see the first buoy from the shore. We were told to aim for the beach across from us. You can see me in the picture wearing the black wetsuit, but you can't see a buoy. We started, and I reached the first buoy without a problem. I had a harder time seeing the next two buoys, but I was able to keep my bearings by glancing at the bright orange swim caps of those who were swimming 1 mile. Then I passed the third buoy, and restarted the course for the second mile, while the hordes of youth who were only swimming 1 mile left the water. Suddenly only the Magnificent 7 were left, and we were then separated by distance and fog. I couldn't see anyone else. It was no longer so easy to keep my bearings.
I started the second mile well, again reaching the first buoy without a problem. I then confidently continued toward where I assumed the second buoy was; I couldn't make it out in the fog. I was intercepted by a lifeguard in a kayak who informed me I was a quarter of a mile off course. Apparently I created my own event: the 2.5 mile swim. I had swum parallel to the shore instead of diagonally. Whoops! A quarter mile out of the way and a quarter of the way back on course. The guy who finished after me did something similar, and I heard quite a few people saying that they had a hard time finding the buoys.
Unfortunately, adding extra distance was not my biggest problem. What was worse was my wardrobe malfunction. Ever since I was a kid, my friends and I have always made fun of the people who improperly wear their swim caps. You know the ones who have it perched on their heads with their hair hanging out of it? The ones who make a swim cap look like a beret or a ballcap? They always seemed to be really old. Like 30. In all my years of swimming I have had never had a problem with my swim cap...until yesterday. A wave knocked it almost all the way off, so I finished the race with my swim cap perched on my head and a curtain of hair hanging down the front of my face. When I mused to the Big Giraffe later that "My swim cap looked dorky," he shook his head and gave me a sympathetic look as he said, "Well technically, the swim cap didn't look dorky. You did." Brave words from the couch, BG!
In the end, however, appearing uncool, not caring about it, being old, having trouble seeing, adding extra distance, and having a swim cap wardrobe malfunction weren't my biggest problems. What the worst problem out of the whole event was that all of the young swimmers in the shorter events finished all of the hot chocolate before the Magnificant 7 got to shore.
Despite the challenges, I had a great time, and I learned of several new swim events for next year.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A hot drink can make up for dorkiness, age, and inconvenience.
Oh my goodness, Alex, you can DO 2.5 miles and you're feeling old? Think POWERFUL, woman! If the "oldsters" were doing the 2-mile swim, they ROCK. Wear that uncoolness proudly!
After my first race involving an ocean swim, I realized that I needed a new wetsuit. That was the bad news since wetsuits are expensive, particularly the full body kind which is what is recommended for ocean swims. The good news is that my experience swimming through many "warm spots" in the water made me more open to the idea of buying a slightly used wetsuit. After all, I used to believe that a used wetsuit would be icky because there was a good chance that the prior owner had peed in it. Now I realize that even if I buy a new wetsuit, I will still end up swimming through many other swimmers' pee. A used wetsuit therefore warranted at least a look.
The stars and planets all aligned and there happened to be a wetsuit on eBay that was 1) my top choice brand 2) had only been worn once and most importantly 3) appeared to be in my size! I say appeared because it seems that the people who determine the sizes for wedding suits have taken over wetsuits. In other words, size 0 supermodels may need X-Large. I went ahead and bid on the wetsuit and won it, spending $70 instead of the $300 that a new wetsuit would have required.
In the days since I placed the order, I became increasingly convinced that the wetsuit would not fit. In fact when it arrived yesterday, I was scared to even open the box. Well, perhaps I wasn't exactly scared. The truth is it was the hottest day of the summer (98 at the beach), and Aunt Flo had arrived. The thought of squeezing my bloated sweating body into a hot full arm full legged wetsuit made me want to get extra packaging tape just to make sure that the wetsuit didn't leap out of the sealed box and chase me around the house.
I've been doing weekly outdoor lake swims though, and I really would like to test out the wetsuit tomorrow to see how it works in the water. Thus I begrudgingly opened the box and almost screamed out loud in horror. It was tiny like a deflated balloon! I hoped that the wetsuit would swell up like a balloon when worn, because otherwise it didn't even look like my big toe could fit into the ankle part. Then I read the instructions on the tag which said, and I swear I'm not making this up, that I needed to put socks on my feet and plastic bags on my hands to help ease on the wetsuit. I'm surprised that "amputate a couple of appendages" also wasn't on there.
Still I did need to know otherwise how am I going to outswim the sharks next month in my race? I applied Body Glide to my legs as was recommended. I then announced to the Big Giraffe that I was getting a pair of socks. He was confused and said that he thought I was trying on the wetsuit. However, he seemed unphased as he lounged on the couch eating a mug of ice cream.
I came down with a pair of Christmas socks, since they were thin, and proceeded to tug on the suit. The suit did initially catch my feet, prompting the Big Giraffe to comment that he didn't know wetsuits had flippers on them. Then the suit widened, and my feet came through. I then pulled the wetsuit up to my thighs. At that point I realized that I had forgotten to apply Body Glide to my thighs. The Big Giraffe was still lounging with his ice cream, but he was too busy laughing at me to eat much.
I then announced I needed plastic bags. The Big Giraffe looked even more confused. I went ahead and grabbed two gallon sized ziplock bags and put one on each hand. I then slid my arm into the sleeve. It worked! I then repeated with the second hand. Although the Big Giraffe quipped that experienced triathletes could magically do a superpunch with both hands to put both arms into the suit at the same time, I now realize that you only need one bag. In the future, I intend to use a sandwich bag rather than a gallon-sized bag. A sandwich bag should have two advantages. First, it will help you avoid having to slip a bag all the way down from your elbow out of the sleeve of your wetsuit. More importantly, it will deny your spouse the opportunity to make snide remarks, like recommending the use of a kitchen garbage bag in case the gallon-sized bag may have accidentally left some part of your body exposed. I think the biggest struggle was trying to get the bag off my hand.
Finally it was the moment of truth. Would it zip? The Big Giraffe was actually helpful and zipped me up. It fit! I could even comfortably breathe! I went to look at myself in the mirror. Oh yeah, I looked like a superhero! A superhero wearing Christmas socks that is. I had forgotten to take them off and decided that on race day if need be, I'll just swim with them on or maybe cut them off.
My older son (OS) came downstairs to grab a boo boo pack from the freezer because...you know injuries can occur when you're "sleeping". He was very impressed when I told him I was a superhero. I think he actualy believed me!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: With 2 socks, one plastic baggie, and one wetsuit, you too can look like a superhero.
I lived in Hoboken, NJ for two years after college. While I loved where I lived, enjoyed my job and of course reveled in the whole social scene, I realized I was getting a little stressed out. Studying for the LSATs didn't help. I decided to take yoga.
Once a week for about two years I showed up for yoga at the Y. I would take my mat, get setup and enjoy an hour all to myself. While the class was really good for me, there are very few things in my life at which I have been worse. I was truly awful when I started doing yoga, and I was truly awful two years later when I moved out of Hoboken. I was even awful at prenatal yoga, which I tried briefly during my first pregnancy three years later.
Some of it was nervousness. For example, I have to confess that the first time we sent Omms to India, I tried hard to stifle a laugh. I did not succeed. I ended up being the crazy lady whom no one knows sitting there laughing out loud. Having to announce my color to the class didn't help either. I think I said I was chartreuse or something like that. The instructor paused for a moment and then went on take great delight in the next person's choice of color. The main problem, however, was that despite what the name of my blog might suggest, I am inflexible. (Hush up there, Big Giraffe! I mean my body not my personality!) Even when participating in multiple sports and in my best shape, my flexibility has been a huge weakness for me. My high school fencing coach made it her mission to work with me on it, and she was disappointed with how little I improved.
About a month ago, my triathlon training buddy told me she was going to start participating in a yoga class. She asked me if I wanted to join her. My first reaction was "no." There was no way I was going near a hot yoga class. Now technically her class is not a hot yoga class, but it follows immediately after one. She had warned me that the room is really hot. Why would I want to do that? After hearing for a couple of weeks how good it made her feel, I reflected on my own positive history with yoga and decided to give it a try.
Our family miracle for 2009 is that I actually managed to find my old yoga mat. No, not the one from Hoboken; the one from prenatal yoga. It was in the exact spot in our messy basement where I had left it 6 years ago! Unfortunately, the mat smelled somewhat musty, mainly because it had sat in our basement for so long. It went well with my yoga pants. The pants smelled like a dog had slept on them, mainly because a dog had slept on them.
When I first walked into the room, I couldn't get over how hot it was. A classmate informed me that it was in the low 90's. I immediately chose a spot by the open window. The same classmate was kind enough to warn me that my spot was actually in the front of the classroom. I immediately moved next to another window. Everyone dropped their mat and some special yoga towel with grips whose purpose I did not understand. They then began to rub down their mats with tree tree oil, apparently to help them relax. I also began to rub down my mat with tree oil to attempt to rid it of the damp basement smell. I figured alleviating the odor would be a huge source of relaxation. Any relaxation directly from the oil would be a nice side benefit.
Once the class started, I couldn't get over two things 1) How hard it was ) how much I sweated. I found myself slipping on my mat. I then understood why most of the students had that special towel. When some of the students were balanced with their feet on the back of their arms, I was doing the "modification." The modification involved me crouching down and sitting on a block. The teacher suggested adding a second block. I immediately did so. I still found it challenging. Needless to say my bridge did not go into a full back bend later on in the class!
Yes, I am still awful at yoga, and yes I was drenched by the end of the class. However, I really did enjoy it. I was even able to stretch further than I had been at the beginning. I also felt very relaxed...until I got into my car and the windows completely fogged. I couldn't see anything.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bring a towel with grips to a hot yoga class or a yoga class right after hot yoga.
I take yoga and I am soooooo inflexible as well. But I don't care very much...usually in a forward bend where others put their hands on the mat, I'm somewhere dangling mine at kneelevel. When I'm supposed to stretch a leg, I never do.
But our class is quite relaxing, it helps me. And the average age of the people taking it is far higher than me. Nobody is dressed in the right outfits or so, which is cool.
we rarely do ooohms and that's good as I find them so weird. Positions , stretches and turns: ok I can see the body value for it and concentrating on those does clear my mind. Breathing excercises: ok I can see how that relaxes us. But chanting, colors, chakra's? Huh, no no not for me.
Sunday was the big day: my first triathlon of season 2. If I said that I wasn't nervous particulary after my wretched bout with stomach flu, I would be lying.
I stuck to my dairy free diet for 24 hours before the triathlon, as per the suggestion in Runner's World for dealing with Runner's Gut. It was soy milk city over here! Sally HP even got me a soy latte from Starbucks. Do I dare say this next part? I've had a few of them now as I've been trying to stay away from milk right before and after big runs, and I think I now prefer them to regular lattes. They have a nice flavor and are actually filling.
After eating my Ezekial bread with almond butter and drinking my coffee with soy milk, I met my triathlon training buddy to carpool to the triathlon. Not suprisingly we talked about what made us nervous about the race. Also not suprisingly, we ended up talking about my bike chain and my strategy for dealing with a recurring slipped chain. We got there pretty early and had our pick of prime spots. How ironic is it that we were about to do a triathlon, yet parked as close as we could? In our defense, we did have all of our stuff to lug.
I was even more nervous when I found out that my racing number was 28. Your number corresponds to your swimming time, and even though I was a competitive swimmer in college, I was not convinced that my current swimming speed is fast enough to avoid being swarmed by swimmers whose time was fast enough to be numbered 29 and 30. I went over to be "marked" which generally involved having your racing number and age written on various parts of your body. The woman doing the marking asked me my age and my number. She then wrote 33 on one of my arms. I clarified that I am 33 years old, but my racing number was 28. She got a little snippy with me and insisted that she was supposed to mark me with my age. I argued that I had done FIRM triathlons before and it was always my race number on my arms and left calf and my age solely on my right calf. She asked me if I had done this specific race before. When I replied "no," she told me that this race was different. She then marked up my other arm and both of my legs. Then my triathlon training buddy walked over with 90 written on her arms.
While that crazy lady from our gym thought that my triathlon training buddy was my mother a couple months ago, no one is going to say that she looks 90! After declaring that my friend had been marked wrong, the marker swaggered over to complain to a colleague, who promptly corrected her. She had marked me up incorrectly...with a permanant marker of course! After a combination of crossing out and correcting my numbers, they were completely illegible. I looked like I had hyrogriphics on me.
After warming up, we lined in our respective locations at the pool for the swim. It was me and the guys. Seriously, it was pretty much all men lined up by me. The guy behind me turned to me and said that his time was off by 45 seconds meaning that he was actually 45 seconds faster than he had claimed. That meant that if he swam at full speed, he was likely to swim right through me around two-thirds of the way through the swim. He kindly told the others around us, including me, that he would just pass us. That didn't help my nerves. It all ended up being fine. My swim time was correct, and the guy behind me passed me very politely. The pool swim was much better than the one I did last year. It was better controlled, and people's "seed times" seemed to be more accurate, or at least all of the rapid swimmers were polite. To my knowledge there weren't any pileups in the pool, unlike last year.
Another friend who had done this triathlon last year advised my friend and me not to wear jackets when biking because we would get too hot. I took that advice. Then I ended up freezing because I was sopping weton a bike when it was only 53 degrees outside. I wish I wore my jacket and a pair of earmuffs. Like other triathlons, this one had photographers positioned along the course to take action photos. Nothing like a photo of soaking wet and freezing cyclists with snot dripping out of their noses. Yes, I would love to pay money to order that photo of myself! Despite all that, I still feel the biking went well. Why? My bike chain stayed on! Unfortunately that wasn't the case for my training buddy. Her chain fell off. She remained calm and focused and was able to get it back on in a minute. Afterward she showed me a lever that can be pushed to give the chain enough slack to slip it back on in case I need it for next weekend. Hmmm...let's not think about that happening.
The running went well also...fortunately without the same level of excitement. When I finished the triathlon I felt really good. Despite feeling a little off from the stomach flu, I still felt like it was a better performance than my other tris last year. Almost as important, I had absolutely no issues whatsoever with Runner's Gut. Not even an alien kick! The 24 hours without dairy seemed to really have worked. I also think it helped that it was cold out. Of course, like all the other triathletes, I was covered in sweat when I finished.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Avoiding dairy for 24 hours before a race helps prevent Runner's Gut.
When I started this blog, it was to be able to talk about what it was like to formula feed a baby. However, I quickly realized that it also was a great way to let family and friends know what was going on with us. This is a post for them.
Today started out like a pretty regular Wednesday. I headed out to the gym and got home at my usual time. My routine is to walk in the door, wash my hands and sit down at the computer with a cup of coffee for about ten minutes before waking up the kids. You can imagine my surprise when I walked in and saw the contents from our junk drawer spread all over the kitchen floor. This was quickly followed by the pitter patter of little feet and an exclamation of "Hi, Mommy!" from my younger son (YS). He was wearing only a pajama shirt and eating Oreo cookies while scratching "himself." He's never gone downstairs by himself before today. Guess who's getting the safety doorknob put back on his doorknob?
I woke up my older son (OS), got both boys ready and had them sit down for breakfast. That's when I noticed that there was a bloody, pus and wax discharge coming out of OS's ear. It reeked. Seriously, it's been years since he's had an ear infection. After he finished picking at his breakfast, I put both boys in front of a movie as a special treat and went to call the doctor.
Our kitchen opens up into our living room. While I can see most of the room, I can see neither a large chair in the corner nor the kid's chair behind it where YS likes to sit when he watches TV. You can imagine my surprise when I turned around while on hold with the doctor's office and saw YS grinning proudly and announcing that he was a cat. I should clarify that he used my makeup to make himself a cat! Yes, he had used my mascara to draw whiskers, my eyeshadow for the nose, and my eyeliner I believe to draw the whiskers cats have above their eyes on his forehead. When I went upstairs I found that I had accidentaly left my makeup out in the bathroom. The mascara wand was in the concealer tube, and the concealor wand was in the mascara tube.
Y'S the cat than went off to watch the movie. I finally got through to the the doctor's office and was able to make an appointment. Then I scrubbed YS's face and, oddly enough, his arms which he had also done up (fur maybe?) and informed him that I needed to be able to see him for the rest of the day.
We went to the doctor's office. The nurse practitioner confirmed that OS had an ear infection and informed me that same infection likely caused OS's vomitting the other night. It's been years since he's had one. However, the eartubes that he got when he was 20 months old fell out, and she believes that there was a tiny hold left behind. This is apparently pretty common, and it tends to just heal on its own. OS was given the green light to not wear ear plugs anymore. Perhaps a little bath water got in there and caused the infection. OS doesn't ever run fevers with ear infections, and they never seem to bother him. In fact, even though his ear was weeping, it didn't hurt him at all.
The kids and I went to CVS where they insisted on playing musical chairs to a tune that was apparently in their own heads while the prescription was being filled. Since the store was empty, I just did the reasonable thing and pretended I had no idea who they were. We headed back home. The afternoon was fine except that YS commented a few times that he was cold.
I had planned on riding my bike this evening. I haven't been on it much this year, and my first triathlon of the season is on Sunday. The other night, I was pedaling up a hill past a parked car, when the chain popped off. I lost all momentum and barely got one foot out of the clipless pedals in time to avoid a fall. That's when I noticed my audience. Two teenagers in the parked car were making out.
When I took my bike in to the place where I had bought it for repairs, the store owner told me I wouldn't have any more problems with it. I was anxious to get out the door, but just when everything was ready, YS suddenly got sick everywhere. Guess OS had a bug after all. The Big Giraffe and I got him cleaned off and settled. Then I hit the streets to do a quick test of my fixed bike. You can imagine my surprise when I was going up a hill again, and all of a sudden the chain popped off again. Deja-vu. At least this time I didn't have an audience.
I'm sure you have a couple of questions. Let me answer them. Yes, I did take a picture of YS the cat. Yes, I did throw out the one remaining Oreo cookie. Yes, my kids did fight over the fact that I gave YS OS's custom designed barf bowl from yesterday since I was too tired to go downstairs to grab another container. Yes, I do have a fear that on Sunday my chain will pop off at the same time that I come down with the stomach flu. No, I'm not too worried about it happening in front of two teenagers making out. I'm worried about it happening in front of a couple hundred people!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Real life sometimes is better than fiction; particularly when it happens to someone you know in real life and not yourself!
* I wrote this a couple days ago but didn't get to publish it before I came down with a horrible case of the stomach flu that involved my doctor calling in a prescription for me.
I can't believe my first season 2 triathlon is in a few weeks! I get excited thinking about how much fun it will be. The thrill of the adrenaline pumping through my body. The feeling of triumph as I cross the finish line. There's one feeling I'm hoping not to experience this season: the feeling that a pack of aliens is trying to break out of my intestines. Yes, that would be Runner's Gut. That little hidden "gem" that I didn't know about before my first triathlon. The shame of the running world. Fortunately I only experienced it after triathlons and two long runs when it was hot outside.
Last month I was over at a friend's house for lunch. She made some delicious butternut squash bisque. As my other friends and I exclaimed over the taste, she listed the ingredients. One of them was cream. I rarely make recipes requiring cream and when I do, I substitute fat free half and half, so it didn't register when I had my first bowl that it was real cream. Or later when I ate a second bowl. About 15 minutes later, I packed up my younger son (YS) and headed out to pick up my older son (OS). That's when I could feel the rumbling. Fortunately, I was able to keep it at bay until I was safely at home. I mess up on enough things with my kids as it is. The last thing I want is for OS to be forever teased about having the mom who locked herself in the preschool bathroom to confront a massive diarrhea attack. Pass that award onto someone else!
Pledging loyalty to the porcelin throne reminded me of other things that cause intestinal disturbance. Sometimes after a particularly intense run or spinning class, it feels like I have a baby turning over inside of me...except I know that it's not a baby, but rather something with the potential to alienate every other gym member in the class for the next 20 years. My doctor told me that I have Runner's Gut, and I am fortunte that it is not severe.
With my triathlons coming up soon, I decided to do a little more research on Runner's Gut. I found an amazing article in Runner's Digest. In addition to refreshing me on what I had learned in anatomy and physiology long before my mornings consisted of hunting through the house for the bottoms to a Tae Kwon Do uniform and before my afternoons consisted of giving up and shelling out $40 for a new uniform. The article explained that people who are lactose intolerant are more prone to Runner's Gut, and it also encouraged those affected to avoid dairy and curb high fiber foods for 24 hours before a race.
Well, that advice didn't exactly fit in with the way I had been preparing for my triathlons. In addition to using a cup of java with a splash of milk to wake up on the day of each race, I typically broke my fast with some sort of Kashi cereal that was soaked in milk. Yes, I do love my dairy products. It's amazing to me that I only had alien birth feelings instead of locking myself in a portapotty or squatting behind a bush for that matter. Oh, and I eat a lot of yogurt. While some people who are lactose intolerant are ok with yogurt, others, like my father, are not. In fact reflecting back, my mother who's a nurse always said that cream is the true lactose intolerance test for people who have the mildest of cases. Obviously my own unintentional experiment with the soup taught me that I could pass that test!
I switched over to Silk Light (or some generic version of it) for the splash of milk in my morning coffee. On days that I run, I eat soy yogurt instead of regular yogurt when I get home after my workout. I also asked someone from my spinning class whose intestinal aliens I had overheard if she knew anything about Runner's Gut. She quietly told me about a product called Ezekial bread. Why Ezekial? Apparently the ingredients and the recipe are inspired by what is written in the Bible. If you're looking for some laughs, do a Google search and read some blog posts about it. To sum it up, there are some hilarious descriptions of how truly disgusting this bread is. Few things could be as disgusting as...um...let's say alien afterbirth, so took my friend's suggestion to get the bread (and the English muffins), toast them, and cut the taste with almond butter.
I had walked past this bread every week without realizing it. In Trader Joe's, it's shelved with other bread. In other grocery stores it's with the frozen Kashi entrees. Unfortunately the store closest to us doesn't carry it. It reminds me of my recent purchase of a neti pot after a conversation at book club convinced me of it's magical powers (or really intrigued me enough to want to experience it for myself). I had walked by that many times too without realizing it.
I have been pleasantly surprised by the results. Not even a "baby" kick when I run. Plus, and this is the true miracle, after I eat the English muffins, I am actually full for hours! Of course, nothing lasts forever, and often end up feeling extremely hungry a few hours later with no warning. I will still eat dairy within 24 hours of a run, but I don't plan to before any future races.
I'll have the true test in a couple of weeks. However, if I can even tone down the feeling of a pack of bulls leaping out of my gut, I'll feel that I have been somewhat successful.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Toasting Ezekial bread and slathering it with almond butter disguises the taste.
On my way into spinning class today I ran into a friend that I haven't seen in a while. He was a great mentor to my triathlon training buddy and me last spring during our first triathlon. Right away he wanted to know which triathlons I've signed up for this year. I briefly told him and then we both had to rush in for the class.
After class he again asked me about what triathlons I was doing. I told him exactly what I had told him before class. He then clarified he had meant what triathlons I was doing right now. There's triathlons going on now? Apparently he and his daughter just did a winter triathlon last weekend and are planning on doing another one this weekend.
AE: What do you mean a winter triathlon? Jim: A triathlon in the winter. AE: Are there three sports? I mean I know the name would indicate that but how does that work? Jim: (looking at me like I'm about 5) what do you mean? You start with the running and then biking. AE: You run and bike in the snow?! Jim: It's a lot of fun. They're always held on golf courses. AE: So do you need special tires? Jim: (again looking at me like I've lost it) Yes (said slowly). Mountain bike tires. AE: You can get mountain bike tires on a race bike? You mean you really need a mountain bike? Jim: Um, yes (probably wondering how I managed to find the Y this morning much less make it through a spinning class.) AE: So then do you just do a pool swim at the end? (I'm thinking this makes sense because if you did it first like in a traditional triathlon you would be freezing not to mention your wet hair would have icicles on it.) Jim: What? Pool?? (lots of laughing.) No, the last part is cross country skiing! That's why they're always held on golf courses (more laughing.)
And then I started laughing. No, it's not that I think it would be impossible or that it wouldn't be fun although I have enough problems getting motivated to run right now much less having to leap over mounds of snow on a golf course. For the past couple weeks the Big Giraffe and I have been trying to get rid of clutter as well as save money. I'm well on my way to clearing out the basement. Big Brother Big Sister took away 6 large bags of donations yesterday. I was laughing at the thought of my DH's face if I brought in a whole bunch of expensive winter triathlon equipment that would take up a ton of room. My swimsuit, cap goggles and towel do not take up even a fraction of as much room as a pair of crossing country skis and a moutain bike would! There's always next year though....
Last night Sally HP and my triathlon training buddy took me out to see the movie He's Just Not That Into You and dessert to celebrate my birthday. It was so much fun! Seeing movies and eating dessert, particularly when they're good, are two of my favorite things to do. The movie was hilarious and we went out to the Cheesecake Factory so both were excellent. Needless to say, I knew I wouldn't feel like getting up early to workout today so Sally HP and I made plans to use the treadmills at the Y after I drove my older son (OS) to preschool.
I dropped (OS) off at preschool and my younger son (YS) off at the childwatch and then headed to the locker room to stash my bag. On my way I ran into my group trainer that I meet with on Fridays. She asked if I was coming to her class. She's frequently talked about how she teaches the Silver Sneakers aerobics class. Silver Sneakers is the senior citizens program at the Y. She's told us that she has younger people in her aerobic class too and they just pick up the pace on their own to get a good workout. She's encouraged all of us to attend. Sally HP and I had talked about what classes were offered at this time today and I remembered her saying that there was the Silver Sneakers class.
Let me back track here and say also that yesterday I found out that the crackling noises in my left ear are in fact from an ear infection and not from the mothership trying to get in touch with me to bring me home. More specifically I have a lot of fluid in my ear from an old cold and on top of it I have swimmer's ear so the thought of having my iPod bud in my ear was actually a little painful. The class seemed like a good alternative. I texted Sally HP and then headed off to the class. I asked Barb if she was sure it was okay for me to go and if I could get a good workout. She looked at me kind of funny and said that of course I would. It would obviously be though what I made of it.
Right away I noticed that there were some seniors citizens in the class and a lot of people my age. I felt better that I wasn't going to be the only poser in the class. We started on the warmup which was good, but I was surprised by how hard it was for a senior citizens' class. Then Barb said, "Welcome to kickboxing!". For the record, I really enjoyed the class. Also for the record, Barb was substituting for the regular kickboxing teacher and normally does not teach kickboxing.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Double check the name of any new gym class you're taking before the class starts.
I am still looking for bloggers to do blogger reviews. Did I mention that there are going to be prizes? In fact there will be prizes for both bloggers and blog readers! Click here for more info. For our wedding, my aunt and uncle gave the Big Giraffe and me gift airline gift certificates. We decided to use them to go to Disney World for our one year anniversary. I was quite excited when we got to Disney World and I discovered they sold one of the greatest inventions ever: fanny packs! For some reason the Big Giraffe didn't seem to fully appreciate how momentous this was. I never understand why fanny packs went out of fashion. They're so convenient particularly for those time you need to carry a wallet, cell phone and maybe one or two extra things like a tube of sunscreen and a packet of tissues. Sure you have a giant bulge over your stomach and you look like you're straight out of the 80's, but you don't have to lug around a purse or a backpack.
When we went to Disney World for a family reunion last year, I learned that after having two kids, the fanny pack just didn't fit. I was pretty upset about it. Tears were shed. The Big Giraffe tried to console me by saying I could just buy a new, larger fanny pack. That just didn't make me feel much better for a variety of reasons starting with the words "larger fanny pack". Fortunately, or actually unfortunately, we had to lug around a diaper bag everywhere with us anyway so a fanny pack was actually not needed.
After receiving a constant barrage of criticism from the Big Giraffe and various friends over the last year for running without my cell phone, I decided today that I really need to start carrying it with me. However, unless I'm wearing my fleece, I don't have the pockets to store my cell phone. That's when I remembered the fanny pack! With trepidation, I tried to put it on. Not only did it fit, but I had to tighten it! I have a sneaky suspicion that the Big Giraffe was laughing at me when I went running. I saw a glimpse of a smirk on my way out the door when he said that it is not my best look. He just doesn't appreciate how truly stylish I was. I also think he's jealous of my fanny pack. Not only is it handy, but the zipper handle is shaped like mouse ears and the Disney characters form the letters to the word "Disney" across the front.
Two people with obviously highly evolved tastes did stop me on my run to compliment my gear. They were specifically more interested in my pedometer than my fanny pack. Pedometer? Umm...that's my iPod. They had no idea what an iPod was, and they didn't even get it after I tried explaining it to them. That's right, the other group that just loves fanny packs are old people. I think they zoomed in on the fanny pack and figured I was one of them.
It's amazing how excited I can be over the fact that my fanny pack fits again. Yes, it is kind of pathetic. Don't agree with that one, Big Giraffe!
Oh we brought our fanny pack with us to Disney on our honeymoon, and again 5 years later. My hubs wore it both times. Yours sounds much nicer than ours.
Did you see any episodes of America's Best Dance Crew on MTV? The third place crew (and probably the most creative) was an 80's themed hip hop crew called Fanny Pak. There were awesome.
Yes, Fanny Pak was awesome on America's Best Dance Crew. But I'm with Kristen - it's great that your fanny pack fits again, but dear god, no!!! There's got to be another way. I'm going to buy you a little backpack like I have. It probably won't work with running, but in other situations, it is much better than a fanny pak.
Thanks for the laugh and I'll do the Jooners review today. I've been annoyingly busy lately, so I'm sorry that it is taking so long to get to.
fanny packs are cool, and practical....but unsafe for pickpockets. YOu really don't feel it if a thief opens it up. I lost my wallet like that in Prague, we were just in time to smack a thief's hand in Barcelona when he was in my friend's fanny pack.
Dude, I have a fanny pack from like 1986 that's Reebok and has teal netting on it. I can't get rid of it, because it is SO GREAT for day hikes. I can get a granola bar, an apple, sunscreen, chapstick, antibacterial gel, and tampons in there. It doesn't chafe like backpacks can. It's awesome!
The Big Giraffe needed to leave for work early this morning. After dropping my older son (OS) off at preschool, my younger son (YS) and I headed out for the gym where I learned a most important lesson: people who workout later in the morning look put together. Seriously, in the wee hours, brushing your hair is an accomplishment. It remains an accomplishment for me later in the day, and I therefore looked like a deranged person as I ran into half the residents of my town.
Dishevelment aside, I was having a hard time at the gym because I decided to run on the treadmill. Running on the treadmill is my least favorite way to run. My preferred method is running outside, followed by running on a track. However, to be able to gauge my speed and heart rate, I periodically will run on the treadmill.
In an effort to keep myself from looking at the clock and mileage every two seconds, (while spending the intervening 1.999999 seconds wondering whether the clock is slow), I watched the Regis and Kelly show. Fittingly enough they had some lunatic runner who decided to attempt to break the world record for longest distance run on the treadmill in 48 hours. I was thinking, maybe 6. Yeah, try 240. Yes, you did read that right. He also decided he was going to start at a 7 or 8 minute mile just to ease into it. He's a fast runner, loves the treadmill, and has no body fat. I hate this guy This guy is very impressive. Of course he did answer the question I most wanted to know: what about bathroom breaks. Rest assured, he can take them. Apparently the clock still runs.
I listened keenly to the explanation of the rules for the record, because at first it sounded like I too had a shot at breaking the record. There is no reason why I couldn't hop on a treadmill, then relax with a book while sitting on the treadmill or even next to the treadmill for that matter while the clock ran for 48 hours!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: People who workout later in the morning look put together.
I still looking for bloggers to do blogger reviews. Did I mention that there are going to be prizes? In fact there will be prizes for both bloggers and blog readers! Click here for more info.
That is NUTS. I would be making those bathroom breaks would be like a few hours long if I were him! Just bring a few magazines with me... the time would pass like *that*! ;-)
Treadmill running is my least favorite, too. I love running outside... but the treadmill is just awful. Sometimes you have to do it, though. At least you had Regis, Kelly and the psycho runner to keep you occupied!
I'd love to run outside instead of the treadmill but then I'd have to get up really early instead of cruising over to the gym around 10 and dropping the kid off at the daycare room. so yeah I'm punished with the boredom because I'm so lazy. Eh what can you do?
The past few days have been pretty hectic here between my older son's (OS) birthday party, my last triathlon of the season, my parents' stay, Suzanne and her husband's visit, and Murphy's stop-over. Murphy, as in the sponsor of Murphy's Law, who no doubt snuck in while so much else was going on.
OS had a fantastic time at the party! Seeing his beaming face (during the few times that he was moving slowly enough for his expression to be visible) was one of the highlights of the weekend. After the party on Saturday, Suzanne and I went to pick up my new bike shoes and newly tuned-up bike from the bike store. The shoes and bike were fine, but my car was not. As I went to put the bike in the car I realized there was a nail in one of the tires. We drove back to my house, and the Big Giraffe took the car in to be fixed. After another saga involving a missing hub cap lock remover and a small repair effort on the Big Giraffe's car executed by my dad, our neighbor, and the Big Giraffe using super glue, duct tape and a hair dryer (possibly as the result of a questionable decision I made with the car in a parking lot), I was able to retrieve my own car and its four new tires. (I hadn't purchased tires since 2002, so they all needed replacement to avoid uneven wear.)
The next morning I had my triathlon. Everything started out fine. There was a slight snafu with my biking shoes that made me feel fully justified in having registered as a newbie (for the race newbie was defined as being in your first season of triathlons). At least I didn't forgot to wear them though! As I was coming back into the park to complete the bike run, I hit a pothole. While it really hurt my wrists and my "lady parts", I didn't think too much about it. I was too focused on why it was suddenly so hard to pedal my bike. I figured I was just really tired. I mustered the energy to pedal to the end and tried to put my bike into the special bike racks for this event. For some reason, I couldn't get the front tire to balance. I finally gave up, left my bike tipped, and took off to run. I later discovered the problem: there was a hole in my front tire.
When I reflect back on the week, I think of the fun visit, OS's new bike, OS's incredible excitement and joy in his birthday party, and the triathlon. I also think of what I have acquired: a sense of accomplishment (for both the triathlon and the party),five new tires, and a slight burning feeling when I pee.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When biking, problems with tires may cause you to feel tired.
You are my inspiration with racing. You mean you can hurt yourself so that it hurts to pee? Eek - I may need a new hero. Seriously, congrats on the triathlon season and the 5th birthday of your boy. Good job Mama.
I have been keeping a secret from you. My triathlon training buddy and I came up with a brilliant idea, earlier this week, but I didn't want to publicize it for fear that we would lose our great advantage. We decided to spend the first morning of this holiday weekend doing a test run of the course we're doing next week. Turns out that we weren't the only ones with this seemingly brilliant idea. There were a fair amount of racers and their dogs. No, I'm not kidding about there being a lot of dogs.
On the other hand, I am glad that we weren't the only ones who had that idea. A group of women who are also doing the triathlon next week helped us to figure out the swim course. We then proceeded to the bike course. I was really nervous to ride the course because not only had I heard that it involved one hill after another, but I further heard that just when you thought that the hills were surely over, yet another would appear. Very unlike the nice, flat Midwest where I grew up. Of course, not everyone on the route worries about the hills. This triathlon is run on an open course, which means that the roads are open to normal vehicular traffic during the event.
While there is no way around the cars to avoid sharing the roads with cars during the triathlon, no one has to subject herself to car-driving Massholes an extra time by doing a dry run of the course. In fact, while many people say that experiencing the course before the race is a must, others say that it's better not to know that there are a million hills. For example, it may be easier to tackle each hill believing it could be the last one on the course, rather than struggling with the knowledge that there are a whole bunch more like the one you are currently trying to climb. I've done it both ways. For our first race, my triathlon training buddy and I tried the course multiple times. I felt most prepared for that one. For my second triathlon, I drove the biking course, which helped me to be somewhat prepared, because I generally knew where I was on the course. I ran my last triathlon without seeing the course in advance. The running segment was the worst. Even when I know the course, the first mile always drags and time seems to stand still. It was far worse when I had no idea where I was on the course. I remember running and thinking something along the lines of "When on earth is this going to end" (except that I was thinking in more...graphic terms) until I realized that I had only been running for about three minutes.
Even though I benefit the most from dry running the running section (if you'll excuse the pun) , it was really important to me to get real experience with the hills in the biking section. After all, I have had previous challenging experiences with triathlon cycling. Not only have I struggled with biking over hills before, but regular readers of FFAFP may remember that I grabbed my running shoes instead of my biking shoes during my first triathlon, making it incredibly hard to pedal. I have clipless pedals, which means that I need to actually snap the clips of my biking shoes into my pedals to get any kind of velocity. I was able to struggle through that event because the course was relatively flat, but I can't imagine anyone without the right footwear making it over this triathlon's hills.
I therefore sympathazied deeply with a triathlete today named Balex Melliot who left her biking shoes next to the door of her house. Fortunately Balex lived only 15 minutes away, so her husband, the Big Gorrilla, delivered her shoes. He was a little dramatic and a lot crabby very understanding about the whole thing. Apparently there were several challenges that made the trip challenging, including the fact that everyone was still in pajamas, no one had yet eaten breakfast, that the booster seat belonging to Balex's Older Son (BOS) was actually in her car, meaning the Big Gorilla needed to remove all of the straps from the convertible car seat before loading their boys into the car, and finally there was some sort of teeny tiny incident where BOS whacked himself with the screen door on the way out of the house and got a small scratch. I Balex Elliot was immensely grateful, as the course was as tough as advertised. She burned 758 calories, even though she was cycling somewhat cautiously to avoid the Massholes.
I also now feel much more comfortable with the bike course, although during part of the course I felt like I was biking down the hill on the Great American Eagle ride at Six Flags. In fact, I'm really hoping that now that my nerves have been settled I Balex Melliot will no longer have any problems remembering her footwear. I also finally feel prepared to ride down the Great American Eagle ride on a bike.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A supportive husband and triathlon training buddy really make all the difference!
Hi - Mayberry Mom sent me your way when I posted earlier this week that I'm training for my first triathlon. I came over to read about your tri adventures, but ended up reading a whole lot more. I really like your blog. I'll be back.
My older son (OS) and I had been looking forward to today. After the Big Giraffe got home from work, we planned to run a couple of errands together, including ordering birthday cakes and ending with getting ice cream cones. Needless to say, we were both pretty excited about it.
First on the agenda was stopping at a Tae Kwon Do studio recommended to us by a friend. OS is interested in taking lessons in the fall. We observed a class, and I got to ask one of the instructors some questions. We also made arrangements for OS to take a trial class. All of OS's prior outside activities have been activities that either the Big Giraffe or I did as kids. Alright so all only means swimming and parent child t-ball, but still... OS asked me what my Tae Kwon Do uniform looked like when I was a little girl. I explained to him that back when I was a little girl, it wasn't very common for little girls to take martial arts where I lived. In fact, I don't know any girls my age who took it. OS was completely shocked. I mentally juggled several theories on sexism and gender before simply saying that people realized it was silly and that's why now both little boys and little girls are encouraged to participate in martial arts and many other sports.
We went to our wholesale club where OS ordered a small princess birthday cake for his at-home party and a larger emergency vehicle birthday cake for his big kids' party. I was careful not to express my opinion, so that he picked what he wanted. He was so ecstatic that he was literally hopping up and down. In fact he hopped out to the parking lot and we headed out to Friendly's for ice cream. He proudly told everyone about his two birthday cakes.
We then settled down to talk over ice cream. After talking more about his birthday cakes, OS wrinkled up his face and disbelievingly asked me to confirm that no little girls the I knew took Tae Kwon Do when I was little. I could see why he was confused. First of all, it doesn't make sense. Second, there were obviously girls taking Tae Kwon Do now. The instructor who helped us was female, and there were girls in the class that we observed. Finally, a child who orders one princess cake and one emergency vehicle cake clearly does not feel bound by any gender stereotype. Yeah, he was right to be confused! He wanted to know if I had wanted to take Tae Kwon Do. I started to describe Karate Kid. I was getting into it when I realized that OS had a glazed look in his eyes. He wanted to know if I ever would take martial arts. I looked on the class schedule we were given and sure enough adult Tae Kwon Do is offered. My last triathlon of the season is over in a couple weeks.... surely it wouldn't hurt to look into it. I mean you could even go say far as to say that I would really be doing myself a disservice by not trying out a sample class, right? Boy won't the Big Giraffe be surprised when he reads this post!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: While Tae Kwon Do was not always an option for girls in the past, it is now available for girls and women of all ages.
I took gymnastics as a kid, and I loved it. But I also don't know any girls who took martial arts in our area. Interesting. I did take Aikido once in college, and I was beyond awful in it. I'll be curious to hear about your martial arts experiences.
I'll give you a minute to get the Salt N Pepa song into your head. It may help you to buffer yourself from some of the...colon-related subject matter in this post.
Today is the start of the Olympics! Hurray! I am currently camped on the couch watching the opening ceremony. I love the opening ceremony for the Olympics. I told the Big Giraffe that I love the opening ceremony, and he replied that he knows that I love the opening ceremony, apparently because I had told him that I love the opening ceremony earlier in the day, at which time he told me that he knew that, apparently because I had told him that I love the opening ceremony earlier in the day, at which time...The same thing happened in 2006, 2004, and 2002. While I may not be even close to an Olympian myself, the Olympics offer the perfect backdrop for me to share my exciting news: I have officially become a runner.
Unfortunately, and unbelievably, in the past 6 years, I have lost two friends who were my age to colon cancer. In addition to being a very sad experience, it has made my hypersensitive to certain health issues. After two entirely separate heavy workouts in the summer heat this month, I have had to make a mad dash for the bathroom within 10 minutes of the workouts' conclusion. My insides felt like they were turning inside out, and there was bleeding. While it was not a hemorrhage by any means, there was quite a bit of blood. The first time it disturbed me, and the second time it flat out freaked the Big Giraffe and me out. Since we were in the Catskills without cell phone reception and the bleeding did stop, I made a mental note to call my doctor first thing Monday morning upon my return. I was feeling a little panicky all week, and the Big Giraffe and I have had several discussions in which I wondered out loud whether it was cancer.
After I mustered up the courage to explain the situation to the doctor, she examined me and gave me her diagnosis. I had something called Runner's Gut. Basically bouts of Runner's Guts occur when you get so dehydrated that your electrolytes get thrown off balance causing a wide range of symptoms from gas to bad diarrhea. Alright, why is this not listed in my triathlon books? To me this should be one of the first entries in the section describing common injuries! In hindsight I realized that I didn't have enough water during both of my episodes. Thanks to my hydration pack, I've never run out of water during my triathlons even though the exercise has been more vigorous and the temperature has been hotter and thus been spared this experience.
Basically my doctor told me that runners are very prone to hemorrhoids as are people who ride bikes. This seems tough for triathletes to avoid, particularly since triathletes in training typically lift weights, and weightlifters are also prone to hemorrhoids. She summarized by saying that any sport where "you have to grunt or where there's friction" between a seat or your legs and an area where the sun doesn't shine. While I had never heard of this before, once I started discussing this with others, I have had a couple of friends confess to having some...familiarity with it.
So, what is the connecting between hemorrhoids and Runner's Gut? Well, if you have hemorrhoids and then get diarrhea, which can be triggered by things ranging from dehydration to food poisoning from things like bad mayo, those hemorrhoids may rupture from the pressure. You will then see a lot of bright red blood. Perhaps you should take this time to let the song play through your mind again. Doing okay? I know this can be an uncomfortable subject.
My doctor made clear that this does not offer me an excuse to stop running. She prescribed a heinous breakfast for me for the next week or two (and whenever else problems arise, because she said they would) consisting of oatmeal with raw bran and 2 dried prunes in it. My stomach is churning just thinking about it. I am also supposed to really make sure I'm drinking enough during the day and when I workout. As she left, she reassured me that this is very common among runners*. It was then it hit me: I am officially a runner! I have the Runner's Gut to prove it! The Big Giraffe did not appreciate my humor when I suggested he say to me, "Congratulations, You're a Runner Now!" All kidding aside, I am incredibly relieved that nothing is really wrong. Needless to say, I would eat 100 bowls of heinous cereal every day rather than have it be cancer.
Apparently standard protocol for any bleeding is a colonoscopy if you can't find the cause for the bleeding, and sometimes even if you think you know the cause for it. You definitely should see your doctor if you have any. Runner's Gut should not be self-diagnosed.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Drink plenty of water when working out and see your doctor if you have any irregular bowel symptoms.
This has happened to me too! I thought it was the diet coke, but maybe not, though I am sure it didn't help. I had no bleeding but the rest happened while I was running. Yes that was fantastic.
So glad that's all it was for you, how very frightening!
Glad it was "only" runner's gut. That breakfast will give you lots of energy. If you cut the prunes up and cook them together with the oatmeal, they'll taste better (and so will the oatmeal).
Feel better! And you're so right... get those gut things checked!
Very interesting. Just an extra word of caution about bloody doody: if there is a lot of black stuff in poo, it could be blood from higher in the digestive tract, so be as aware of that as other nasty shit.
Thanks for all your well wishes! Everything seems to be going well in that department so to speak and is back on track. Suzanne, my doctor did tell me that. Apparently also with colon cancer you can get oozing.
Yesterday I called my cousin to congratulate her on her engagement. After talking for a while she asked me how my younger son (YS) was doing on his high calorie diet. This is my cousin who after eating 6 chicken breasts for breakfast one day at the ripe old age of 20 found out she had a hyperthyroid and had to have it irradiated. This was no surprise to anyone, since she's always been incredibly thin. I told her that YS was doing well, but honestly he just isn't that into his high calorie foods. She said that she has always preferred candy like Air Heads or Twizzlers to chocolate and doesn't really like desserts like chocolate ice cream or chocolate cake. They're simply too rich for her. Alright seriously can we run a DNA test here, because there's just no possible way I can be related to her! Except that somehow both of my sons are just like her. I wonder how many really thin people who don't diet simply don't like high calorie and high fat foods.
I had planned on leftover pork tenderloin for our evening repast. When the tenderloin proved to be MIA about 15 minutes before dinner, I realized that I had no idea what we were having. Fortunately, I had a giant bag of pancake mix that was left over from the Catskills trip last week and some blueberries that were fortunately not left over from the Catskills trip. Voila! Blueberry pancakes for dinner! Alright, maybe it wasn't quite magical and there is a rumor out there that I may have burned a pancake or five, but I was able to get them on the table pretty quickly. The boys were excited to have breakfast for dinner.
As we were all munching and I was fantasizing that my blueberries were chocolate chips, YS starting motioning that he wanted a bite of my pancake that was particularly densely populated with blueberries, despite the fact that he had half a pancake on his plate. When I gave him a perplexed look, he began to motion more frantically and say "blueberries!" As I resignedly passed my fork to YS, I made a startling discovery. His pancakes were filled with holes. He had eaten all the blueberries and left the pancake behind. I then looked at my older son's (OS) plate. He had eaten most of his blueberries and most of his pancakes, leaving a few forlorn berries behind. Not to worry, YS ate those. Despite knowing at the age of 32 that fresh blueberries are healthy, I still wished that if they wouldn't transform into chocolate chips that I could at least pluck them right out, throw them in the trash, and fill the holes with syrup. This is exactly why I'll never be one of those naturally thin people who never has to exercise or watch what I eat. Apparently neither will the Big Giraffe. He came home, glanced at the stack of pancakes, and pulled the leftover pork tenderloin out of the meat drawer of the refrigerator.
Big Giraffe's Lesson Learned: The best place to hide leftover meat is the meat drawer of the refrigerator.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If you don't like high calorie and high fat foods, it is easier to stay thin.
This week, my 18-month-old daughter ate an entire pint of blueberries in two days. Thank goodness they're in season so I can get them at a reasonable price! She'll be out of luck this winter when they're $5 a pint.
I think it's genetics. I know plenty of skinny people who love high fat foods (my husband) and can't gain an ounce to save his life. I like the high fat foods too but I eat them in moderation, y'know for the girlish figure and all.
It may be genetics. Has YS been checked for hyperthyroidism? I wonder if those genetics are there, too? I'll bet he has...
But I used to just go gah gah for blueberries and I've never been super thin, although I was certainly normal weight for most of my childhood (with just occasional slight weight gains here and there).
Breakfast foods and desserts are my favorite, too. Although I admit that I love blueberries in pancakes. More than chocolate chips and syrup. Blueberries rock. For the record, lest people think that I am like Alex's sons, I ate several brownies today and drank a milk shake. Dinner was mozerella with tomatoes and 2 pieces of pizza. (This is probably why I had a stomach ache most of the day.)
I wonder about this---I haven't had major weight problems in my life but also don't really like super fatty things like Alfredo/cream sauce, donuts or tons of fried things---I will have them every now and then, but don't really crave them. Chocolate, on the other hand, is different. . .I could eat it with almost every meal.
I knew I should have been concerned when I was back in civilization and received an email confirming that the triathlon would take place. "Well, why wouldn't it take place?" I thought. It turns out that while we were gone, MA got hit with some pretty bad storms. "While the runoff from last week’s significant rainfall had caused the beach to be closed temporarily, the beach is open and ready for triathletes." The email reassured everyone that the river was safe. Everyone must have needed a lot of reassurance because the same email was sent several times.
My triathlon training buddy and I carpooled to the race. We were a little concerned, not because of the river, but because an Olympic length triathlon was using the same course as our triathlon. The Olympic one was scheduled to start an hour before us. After a quick registration we got into our gear and headed down to the river. It looked okay.
We went into the river to find a place to stand. It felt totally gross. The bottom was slimy, and I could feel it mushing between my toes. The good news is that I didn't see any trash, IV needles, or floaters. Phew! Apparently that's only in the lake by us! I'm kidding. The bad news is that the sediment was so stirred up from the rain or general lack of cleanliness that I seriously could not see anything. While it was obviously far from ideal, I still enjoyed it. The rest of the course was great. It was relatively flat. Plus San Francisco has given me a whole new perspective on hills. Sure a glass of water would still have tipped over if I had put it down on various places of the course, but in San Franciso, the glass would have toppled over.
There was just one small problem: the running part of the course was not well marked, and I know two people who ran the Olympic 10K instead of the sprint 5K. No, these weren't "phantom" friends. It truly wasn't me. Believe me, if it had been, it would have been a big problem! Of course now my spinning instructor is saying that it would be a good goal for me in the next year...
That's not to say I wouldn't take credit for finishing an Olympic length triathlon. The t-shirts for both triathlons are the same. However, the Olympic distance is written on the top of the shirt while the sprint distance is all the way on the very bottom (and apparently also wrong). Now I can proudly wear a shirt that boasts that I swam 1 mile, biked 22 miles, and ran 6 miles when in fact I swam 1/4 mile, biked 11 miles and ran 3 miles. Hey, I'm not telling unless asked! I did earn that t-shirt fair and square after all.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Don't tell unless asked!
Funny you should mention this "Phew! Apparently that's only in the lake by us!".
We drove through a certain town yesterday trying to go to the EcoTaurium (because no one told us it wasn't open on Mondays). We decided to head up Rt. 9 to catch Rt140 to hit the zoo since we were already yup there and passed a little lake off the right side with swimming. The girls were like, we can go swimming there. Husband and exchanged a quick glance and were like - yeah probably not - then quickly said that we prefer our little "private" lake area.
This has been a fun week! My friend Suzanne and her husband rented a large an enormous house in the Catskill Mountains for a week and invited many of their friends to join them. The Big Giraffe, little giraffes, and I all packed our bags and headed down to their place. After several attempts to find the tape recording of a preschool class that I was sure was hidden under my seat (because there is just no way my two sweet cherubs could have made all that racket), interspersed with serious contemplation about sticking my head out the window for half hour increments, we made it there in one piece (per person).
The house was fantastic. It had a heated pool as well as a hot tub. During the weekend, all twenty of us lounged around the pool while Suzanne's BIL and friend grilled lunch and dinner for everyone. Lest you get the wrong idea when I say "grilled," I don't just mean burgers and hot dogs. Our dinner on Sunday night was a Mexican fiesta, including chicken and mushroom fajitas, and homemade guacamole. There were a couple of other families in and out during the week, but the boys also reveled in a lot of adult attention. After they were in bed, the evenings were filled with a variety of spontaneous but enjoyable activities, including groups of people playing board games and lengthy chats in the hot tub, including a memorable discussion with an ob/gyn friend about...um...interesting gyn topics.
As the week went on, the population of the house dwindled. The Big Giraffe and Suzanne's husband undertook much of the cooking, concocting grilled shrimp and scallops and roasted pork loin interspersed with the standard burger and hot dog fair and of course veggie burgers. They may not have had the flair of Suzanne's BIL, but the eating remained tasty.
A far smaller group of us passed an evening watching Heathers. When we found that the extras on the DVD included the script for the original "darker" ending, we each took on a role or two and gave it a reading. Yes, original ending really was darker than what they filmed. That is one messed up movie!
Although we did spend the first few days lounging around and in the pool, we enjoyed a variety of outings during the week. We visited a somewhat sketchy but clean zoo where we were allowed to hold some of the small animals, traversed the main street of a couple of quaint little towns, hiked a historic trail to see a famous series of carved rocks, and toured a farm where sheep's milk yogurt and cheese are made. We also saw a sheep in labor.
On the last day we went to what has been rated one of the safest water parks in the country. I believe they earned that rating because there is an enormous amount of space between the turns on the water slides. Seriously, the staff waited until an inner tub was all the way down the slide and out of the water before letting the next person take the plunge. It was nice, but on the other hand it took a long time. Fortunately, the park was was not crowded. The safety of the rides reaped another dividend. My younger son (YS) who just turned two was allowed to go on almost all the rides as long as he sat in my lap. While I was initially taken aback by this, not only did he do well, but he loved it. Just like the zoo, the rules seemed a little more lax but everything ended up being just fine.
The house itself was in a very remote area. We didn't even get cell phone reception much less internet access. Oh the horror! After struggling with a few days of internet detox, Suzanne and I went to the parking lot of a cafe with wi-fi after it closed. We would have gladly paid for the access had there been a way to slip some money under the door. Being ultimate geeks (stop smirking, Big Giraffe), the two of us sat in my dark car and whipped out our computers. In the process we scared away some youth who were also hanging out in this dark parking lot. I'm sure they couldn't figure what the heck we were doing. The Big Giraffe and Suzanne's hubby were convinced we were going to get arrested for suspicious activity. The Big Giraffe said that he was glad we had my car with us instead of his. He did promise to bail me out of jail if needed. Fortunately, our internet experience was uneventful.
Because I have completely lost my mind, my triathlon training buddy and I signed up a while ago for a triathlon for tomorrow. Yes, I just got back yesterday. Being aware of the triathlon kept me from eating as much junk as I normally would have. Thank goodness for veggie burgers! That awareness also forced me to workout while on vacation, which was a good thing because I always felt better after exercising. The heated pool made swimming far more comfortable, and running got easier when the town repaved the street in front of the house during the middle of the week. On the other hand, I don't expect the swim tomorrow to be as comfortable as the pool. It will be my first triathlon in a river. In fact, tomorrow will be my first swim ever in a river. Hopefully there won't be any floaters.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It is possible to survive and even enjoy a week mostly without internet access.
I'm very excited to be going to BlogHer in a couple of weeks. I had a great time last year, and I learned a lot. I am also particularly excited to make my first visit to San Francisco. I am also looking forward to rooming with Suzanne. We have been friends since we were 14, and she's my younger son's (YS) godmother. I have my tickets. I have a hotel room, which was particularly easy to find since Suzanne did all the research. (She has been to San Francisco many times.) BlogHer has a packed agenda, including a signing for Suzanne's new book, Off the Beaten Subway Track. I thought everything was set. Then I realized that I am missing one thing: pajamas that fit.
For each of the past two Christmases, the Big Giraffe bought me a pair of pajamas that fit well. Unfortunately, they're winter pajamas so while they allow us to keep our house at a freezer-like temperature (much to the chagrin of any overnight guests), they're not so great when it's warm outside. I have given away all of my pre-pregnancy summer pjs, leaving me with pjs I bought during the third trimester of my first pregnancy. I am quite pleased to say that they are gigantic. There is no way I'm letting anyone who's not married to me see me wearing them. Sorry, scary pjs require a marriage license. I just won't take responsibility for giving anyone nightmares for years to come, followed by additional years of therapy. (I know for a fact that the Big Giraffe has medical insurance. Plus he took a vow for better or worse and I think that the pjs fall neatly into the latter category. Rest assured that if asked during my pregnancies the correct response would have been that they fell into the former category.)
Since I'm spending a lot of money on this trip, a couple of pairs of pjs is nothing on top that a couple of pairs of decent pjs aren't that much of an extravagance, the Big Giraffe, the boys, and I headed out to an outlet mall. While we were there, I decided to duck into my very favorite, pre-kids store: Ann Taylor. I love her clothes, and she was my designer of choice when I worked full-time. After two kids, well let's just say that they haven't fit as well and leave it at that. Today I braved the long line for the dressing rooms and practically held my breath when trying on the clothes while repeating a silent mantra of "Do not cry if they don't fit." And...they didn't fit. They were too big!!! I'm really excited that not only can I fit back in Ann Taylor clothes, but I'm not even the largest size (not that I wouldn't have been thrilled even to fit into the largest size too). There was nothing I liked enough to warrant spending even the outlet-reduced high prices, so I put everything back and then almost had a panic attack trying to leave the store to meet up with my family. Why is that?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Outlet stores are extremely crowded during 4th of July weekend sales.
Given that my pajamas consist of ratty t-shirts that are not fit to be worn in public (although sometimes I do) and shorts with holes in them, I really wouldn't worry about what you wear. Although let me point out that we are sharing a bed. I don't really know what this means, but for some reason I find it makes the pajama dilemma funnier. This also made me realize that I should pack pajamas. Sometimes I forget and wind up wearing workout clothes to bed, which only works if I didn't use them to exercise in, plus I'm not bringing workout clothes. Sleeping in jeans would suck. I know this because I have done it before. I'll stop rambling now, but I think it is a sign of how excited I am for the trip.
Click here for the Happy Birth Days Carnival. I am extending the carnival through the weekend meaning that I will do the drawing on Monday evening. You are more than welcome though to add your story to Mr. Linky after Monday. And, since several of you have asked, you don't have to enter a new post to be eligible for the drawing. You can link to your birth story, no matter when you may have posted it on your blog.
First of all, I would like to say a big happy birthday to the Big Giraffe! Yes, today is the day to celebrate the Big Giraffe. He's been out of town for the past few days and it is only fitting that he came home today so that he could be around his sleep deprived children and wife celebrate with his family.
Because he's been gone, I had the misfortune honor to attend parent/child t-ball with my older son (OS). This is particularly ironic since I hate playing sports with balls. Why on earth would I want to play a sport where a ball may be thrown at my head when I could just as easily do something like swimming even if it is sometimes in a wetsuit? It doesn't help that I have still not recovered from when a kickball hit me smack in the face during second grade gym class and split my glasses frame in half. (Yes, I have physically recovered since then, just not emotionally.) And kickball was my best sport. If you knew how I played soccer, you would not be surprised that my second grade teacher had to talk my gym teacher out of failing me that year.
OS and I arrived at t-ball. First the coach, who was about 19, had the parents and all the "dudes," as he called the kids, practice rolling and throwing a wiffle ball. Easy enough. The Big Giraffe, who is a leftie, had given me specific instructions about how to help OS, who is also a leftie. In deference to the Big Giraffe's concern, I took vigorous notes including illustrations and watched a video of lefties in t-ball alerted the coach to the fact that OS is a "southpaw."
After a couple more warm up exercises during which OS argued that his name was OS not Dude, and some of the kids wandered off, it was time for the kids to take turn hitting the ball off the "T" and running to first base. We parents had an extremely important job: stand there and catch any balls. Since about 99% of the balls dribbled less than 2 feet away from the "T," we all stood there snickering at the coach who had to keep sprinting off of the imaginary pitcher's mound to field. This was my favorite part of the evening, not just because it was easy, but because it was hilarious. I wasn't really laughing at the coach's fielding. I was laughing at his efforts to get 4 year olds to run the bases. It was like watching someone try to herd cats.
After hitting the ball, each child might or might not run to first base. Some kids ran to third, some kids stayed behind the "T," and some kids just ran off in another direction. The kids on the bases were each supposed to advance one base. Most of them moved in some direction. Sometimes three children would be standing on one base. Some children would stop to pick grass or to just gaze around them. Every time OS approached the "T" a chorus of parents reminded the coach that he was a leftie. OS apparently was more concerned with working on fielding than baserunning. Whenever he hit the ball, he would run after it, retrieve it, and throw it back to the coach before heading out to first. Many times the child's who's turn it was not at the front of the line where he was supposed to be.
I have to give the coach credit. No matter how sweaty and exhausted he looked, he stayed calm with the dudes. As I was leaving, one mom said that the next time she was going to be the parent participant and her husband could be on child duty since all we did was stand there. She looked pretty sweaty and tired herself. She had been chasing after her other kids the whole time.
I volunteered to help coach three year old soccer in the fall. Just watching my girls practice/play games is very comical. Throw in some dads when they attempt parents vs. kids and watch out. The dads become WAAAAAAAAY to competitive.
At least I've been through it two times before to know what to expect.
Last night it really hit me that today I would be doing a bigger triathlon than the one I did last month. I was most terrified by the giant hill that everyone warned me about...or more correctly the two hills. I had heard from everyone that there was a small scary hill followed by The Hill which was a full mile itself with every wheel turn getting steeper and steeper. Down hill from there is also supposed to be incredibly scary because it's so steep. In fact I was told that many triathletes can't make the sharp right at the bottom of the hill and end up "flying into the woods."
I reminded myself, that the hill didn't look as bad as everyone had said when I drove the route earlier this week, but then again most SUVs have more horsepower than is available to most triathletes during a race. (Yes, I could get more horsepower from one of the many farms on the route, but that would be illegal and would violate the triathlon rules.)
After a slight saga last night when I thought I had a flat tire on my bike, (a story for another day when my pride has fully returned), the Big Giraffe and I loaded my bike and the kids into the car and headed off to the event. Not only were the distances much longer, than my May triathlon, but the number of participants and the size of the goody bag were also much larger! Yes, you get a goody bag at these events; I know I was pretty excited about that too.
The boys and the Big Giraffe headed down to the beach while I setup my bike and equipment. I grabbed the swim cap they gave me (after someone fortunately told me I needed to bring the cap because it identified the heat that I would be in), put on my wet suit, and headed down to the beach while pleased that we weren't all starting off at the same time.
The swimming leg was so much fun! Swimming is my best sport, since I swam competitively through college. I loved my wetsuit, not only because it provided a barrier against the chilliness of the water, but because it was like having a small motor attached to me; it made the swimming so much easier. Plus, out of the 530 plus people participating, I only saw two people who didn't have wetsuits. Hey, if everyone else wants to look like a whale, why not join in? Really, when else would you get such a fabulous opportunity?
Next was the dreaded biking. Unlike my last triathlon, I actually managed to get all my biking equipment on including my biking shoes before heading out on the course. Every thing seemed fine. As it started getting hillier, I changed my gears to prepare for the first scary hill and the super scary hill. In the meantime, I went up one hill in a pack of about 10 bicyclists that was challenging but definitely doable. What makes it seem doable? The big test for me is always whether or not I feel like I'm going to hurl. Nothing fluttered in my belly. To make sure, I distracted myself by focusing on how funny everyone sounded breathing, myself included. There were moans, groans, and grunts. I must say that a couple people sounded like they were in the throws of well...passion... and let's leave it at that.
I finally made it to the top of the hill and went down the other side pretty fast. In fact at one point I looked at my odometer and I was going over 30 miles per hour. Then I saw the sharp turn needed to avoid the woods. Several volunteers were stationed there, jumping up and down and yelling "Turn turn turn!" I made it.
I continued on the bike in anticipation of the second hill. I was tired, but I knew I had one hill to go and I needed to focus. I try to rev myself up for the second the hill. And then to stay revved up for it. And continue to stay revved up for it. Where was it? I finally passed a volunteer who shouted, "Only one more mile left!" Wait a minute! The scary hill was supposed to be around mile 5, and I was on mile 11. But the scary hill was on mile 5? Yes, I had already gone over the scary hill and hadn't realized it.
How can I explain this? Well, I'm from the Midwest where it is flat. No, really flat. If you've never been to the Midwest, it's probably hard to picture. To me, if you put a container of water on the ground, and water moves to the side, the land is not flat! Very little in New England is truly flat. People at the race kept telling me that the whole course was flat except for these couple of hills. That just was not true! I even remember thinking that the whole course was hilly when I drove by it. I wasn't complaining. Most of the hills were relatively small and not problematic for biking. However small the hills may have been, they were there. Before you think I'm suggesting you mark your bike course practices with containers of water, let me explain my reasoning. I think that if you're aware that you're expending energy on all these little hills, you pace yourself better. Compared to the two big hills, most of the course is relatively but not completely flat. I still am not sure which hill was the first scary one though!
The run went well too. It was definitely more hilly than my last triathlon, but none of the running hills were scary. I particularly appreciated how triathlon volunteers sprayed us down with water from a hose about half way through the run.
All in all, it was a great success. I didn't need to stop at all on the route as I had feared I might have to do. I came in 2nd in the swimming leg for my category and 10th overall in my category.
Oh yeah, distances: Swimming .5 mile, biking 12.27 miles, and running 3.05 miles
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Hilliness is relative.
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
glad you're not giving up on blogging yet as so many people seem to do over the last couple of months
Glad also that the shark fear is gone. They are too great creatures to be feared that much.
Good luck with the bike training!!!