Thursday, August 28, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
While my heart was torn from my chest 10 years ago, stomped on, salt poured on it and then placed back into my body, all in a matter of days, I'm here. You don't ever think you'll be OK again, but you are. While I still feel like an orphan (sorry Dad), I know that she is my guiding angel on all this craziness - and thank GOD, Lord knows I need her to help me through these days. That is why her name is on my bike. The Orbea Tri bike named Sue.
Now, on with the goods...
You know you're training for an Ironman when...
- You truly can fall asleep sitting on the toilet.
- You go to bed while it's still light out...on the weekends. I think I saw 8:30 on Friday and Saturday nite - what a parrrty animal I have become.
- You get up to get your a.m. workout in and people are just coming home from the bar.
- You can eat enough food to sustain a 300lb man.
- Your best friend is Assos cream. Everyone needs Assos for their ASSSSos.
- You can only have ONE freakin beer on a Saturday nite because you can't get toooo dehydrated for the next mornings swim.
- Last but not least...you know you're training for Ironman when all these things are happening and your family and friends still love you.
So, thank you to my family and friends - who I am certain my Mom has sent to me. Angie was most certainly hand picked and dropped into my life. I mean who else will sing to you on a recovery ride and remind you constantly to look for 'one more fry in the bag.' This should be her mantra as she repeats it to me often - see, we don't eat fast food often but think about the last time you did, you pulled out the burger and started to eat it, then, hidden under that wrapper was one more glorious french fry...one more fry in the bag. Look for it on that next hill you're climbing, look for the fry in the bag - it may be that one last gear you have or it may be that your sorry ass just needs to dig in but think of the joy ... the last fry in the bag.
Love you guys!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I don't have kids but here's why being the non-parent adult figure in the lives of your friends' kids is neat...
Hey, hey, Miss Missy is here, Miss Missy is here - fist pumps, jumps, an all around rock and roll welcome from 4-6 year old boys who think you are funny and neat. You know, the only other time you can get a welcome like that is from your dog, they always think your neat.
Olympic fever - sitting with a 4 year old girl, as she is ready for bed, jammies on, blanket in hand, snuggles up next to me for the women's marathon on Saturday nite -
Do you watch the OLYMpicks?
Yes Summer, my favorites are the swimming, cycling and running, what are your favorites?
Miss Missssyyyyy, those are your favorites because that's what YOU do! (laughter)
Yes, Summer, you're right, that's what I DO.
Um, I love you! (Hugs all around)
...oh so sweet.
There's nothing like a kid who has NO jaded opinion of you, doesn't know all the stupid stuff you've done in your life and thinks that YOU are pretty cool.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Since I don't even leave the house until 6:30, I'm armed with all my lighting gear, front and rear. I head out to a 23 mile loop from the house...I'm also thinking that I can catch the slow guys on the local club ride. I'm just rolling along on a beautiful nite when I see him in the distance - the last guy from the club ride. First of all, who fit his bike and second, high cadence is one thing but this was ridiculous. He looked like an orange on a toothpick! So, I say a few words to him and continue on. As I'm negotiating a blind left turn, I'm looking into the turn and not at the ground in front of me, I hear metal flying and something slam into the fence nearby. Yep, you guessed it, big fat flat rear tire. OK, I'm OK, I can handle this. See the thing is, I have never handled it all by myself - in real conditions, not practicing in front of the tv with a real pump. I've always had help or even had some nice guy come by and just do it for me. The poor 'last guy' looks at me like, it's getting dark and I can't really afford to stop BUT - do you need any help? No, I'm good - he didn't flinch and rolled on. So, I call home to tell Ryan of my situation and where I am. I unload all my crap from my bag and start changing the tube. Hell yeah, I got this thing on..with air, bonus! At which point, some nice stranger, some guy visiting from Athens Georgia wants to help me. I'm just thinking really, leave, I was having some nice alone time, just me, my favorite bike (my road bike) and some tire changing tools. I'm feeling like I've conquered the world. Then I realize, this guy is lost and doesn't know how to get back and is wanting someone to ride with. Fine, fine, of course, I was congenial to a stranger but just wanted him to bug off. Get on my bike, I think I need a little more air, add some air, get back on my bike, POW, yep, another flat. I KNOW, I KNOW, ALWAYS CHECK THE TIRE THOROUGHLY BEFORE PUTTING A NEW TUBE IN. I really thought I checked it...there was a one inch split in the side from whatever piece of metal I sent flying. At this point, I told the nice stranger to leave and sent him with a map and called home. I just didn't want to change another freakin tube. I already conquered the world, I didn't need to do it again!
Not totally solo but a time trial style ride so you're just trying to go as fast as you can and catch the next guy. Improved this week over last but since I'm the slowest, I go first, no body to chase...but there is something to be said for being chased and not wanting to get caught. You do look over your shoulder.
Saturday - Long Ride
Everyone had a different plan and a different kind of ride in mind, so I figured that I should do what I need to do. A friend assembled a nice, rolling 65 mile route that I can hook onto from my front door. He had me going places I had never been and roads I had never seen in places that could be scary (that were scary all alone). Now, my directional sense is poor at best but I was armed with a map and turn by turn directions. I studied the map before riding for at least an hour so I had some kind of sense...until you travel Tennessee Country Roads....roads change names for no apparent reasons, there are no street signs or they've been stolen - seriously, who really needs a sign in there house that says Swamp Rd.? Then you have roads that seem to intersect themselves...they have the same damn name. Bunker Hill Rd intersects Bunker Hill Rd, are you kidding me? Well, another proud moment in my solo riding history, nary a wrong turn, even with no freakin road signs half the time. You DO need to keep track of where the hell you've been and what roads you've crossed to keep track of where you think you are. It was a good lesson in navigation, albeit a little creepy at times. I didn't hear banjos but seriously thought I could 'disappear' out here.
One heal biting POS dog, no flat tires, a gas station that doesn't sell Gatorade and a fat guy who wanted to tell me he wanted to get back into shape after his long BMX career and that he road for Cumberland Transit back in the day. And he kept grabbing his gut and squeezing it as if to say - see this, this is what I'm talking about, I need to lose this fat. Dude, no need to squeeze, I can set it plenty well through your Dale Earnhardt t-shirt or whatever the hell you had on. I just wish I had a picture to share of 'us', my new friend.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Kasha is my 12 year old Boxer who loves to swim. Her hips are bad (arthritis), her hearing is sketchy (or she's ignoring me) and her eyesight is OK in the day time. Generally speaking, Boxer's don't like water - Magnus beats the water and tries to swim for his life. Kasha took to it when she was a pup. It dawned on me a couple of weeks ago (thanks Abby) that I should take her when we go to the lake for open water swim practice. She'll hang in the car until we're done and then, it's her turn. She's not a fetcher any longer, no more Frisbees or sticks. She can't hardly get down the little embankment to get to the waters edge without her legs going out from under her. It's a little rocky and steep at points. But, she has found her new vocation...once she hits the water, she's gonna come and save you...whoever you are....
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Um, myself is still in bed at home not running hills with your sorry asses at 6:00a.m. while the rest of world slumbers.
...That was the kind of effort I was looking for on #3 and #4 (of 6). Now I know what it sounds like.
Yeah, it SOUNDS LIKE I'M DYING, THAT'S WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE.
...I'm kind of jealous of you guys (me and Andy). This is a great workout, I'm going to do it with you next time.
Jealous, great workout, I'm sweating like a hog, I feel vaguely like I'm going to puke and I'm so hypoxic that I don't know my name right now and am going to argue with you using NO logic what-so-ever. OK, next time, do this work out with us.
...Are you OK (as I'm walking, not running, towards my car)?
Humph. - I'm pretty sure that is all that came out of my mouth.
So, another torture session under my belt with triswami and Andy. BTW, Andy is racing this weekend so Andy only had to do four and Andy...well, Andy still kicked my ass. But hey, he got extra rest waiting for me on the other side of that hill. Yeah, that's it. Well, sorry to say that I'm the retard you knew today. Damn it, it was hard. It was ~8 miles total with 6 hill repeats, ouch. Oh, and this was the morning after a puke ride in 98 degree weather. Lesson learned 96 is my cut off!