Tri Trips.

Last year was my first tri traveling year. I'm so afraid of flying that I drug myself into submission to get on the plane. It's an ocean thing. There is nowhere to pull over, people! I picked a good place to live for a person with that particular phobia, but still, there's something I love about traveling to a new race enough to get me in a giant hunk of metal thats going to be hurled into the sky.

I love packing up my bike in it's super fancy cardboard box with tape all the way around holding every flapping inch of it together. For yet another vacation. And I love cramming all my gear in around the bike so I can just travel with carry-on. I even love the looks of pity/horror as I drag my cardboard box up to the timex truck/shop/hotel to put it together. I don't lift it, I pretend it has wheels. One side has given out completely because of this behavior, because the PHX airport is big, so now that end is the handle. 

I love the tri people. I hear negative talk sometimes about tri people, complaining about the over-competitiveness, the showing off, posturing, the meeting of all the Type A personalities.. and then I show up at the race and it's a freaking ice cream social. Everyone is just so nice. There are so many characters. Goofballs and genuises and hams and gearheads, all in the same place to do the same thing. And there's no judging by looks. That hairy guy with the big ass may just kick yours out there. Every race is a reunion and an opportunity to make a bunch of new friends.

I love the race morning nerves. The progression that I know is inevitable from waking up in the morning wondering why the hell I got myself into this, to the ten checks of my bike in transition and the "be good, bike" good-bye routine, and then the chattering with all the friends (or strangers, I'm not picky) to calm me down and take my mind off the impending pain during the wait, and then on to the moment just before the start in a strange new body of water, when I finally get calm and quiet (the latter being because I'm under water.)

I love the surprises of a new bike course, having no idea where the heck I'm going and just following the cones or the bikes up ahead. Same goes for the run. New scenery, new city, new beach, new neighborhood, so much to see that the miles fly by. This is Amy and I at Hagg Lake last year, off to check out the course for Nationals. We got cold. We didn't make it very far out of the parking lot. So much for bike course recon.

I love picking out cheesy presents to bring back to my Henry, Wyatt and Sky. It seems their approval of the gift is inversely proportionate to its cost. I also love reading a book without constant interruption - the highlight of a night in a hotel!  I asked Henry if he would miss me, he told me to bring him back something Indy. What are the odds I'm going to find something Indiana Jones at KOA International?  Off to the Big Island!

The sickies.

I'm working on some tips for avoiding illness when you have a big race/training block/party coming up that you cannot be sick for and your kids are projectile vomiting or hacking like Tiny Tim. Yes, my kids are sick. I am hiding. Here are my ideas:

1. Call the airline and get the heck out of dodge. Hit the race destination a few days early. Do whatever it takes. If they refuse to change your ticket, make up a relative and say they died. Do not, however, use a real relative's name or relation, because that is bad juju. 

2. Beg your sister/babysitter/the neighborhood's crazy streetperson to come over and watch them and again, get the heck out. Offer to pay big bucks. Your sister has a big mortgage. Crazy lady has a booze habit to support. The sitter is considering quitting her Starbucks gig. (Advise against this, as it's nice to have your soy latte ready by the time you hit the front of the line.)

3. Refuse to clean up the puke. Invite the neighbor's golden retriever over, she's dumb enough to eat her own, so common sense implies...

4. If you must clean up the puke, dress up like your elementary school lunch lady. Face mask, pit-high rubber gloves and a shower cap. My youngest brother used to dress our boxer up like this for fun, and she'd slip around the house as Lunch Lady Stella looking angry.

5. When they climb into your bed at night to hack on you, wait as long as you can hold your breath for, then hightail it to their bed. Change the sheets, get in, and hope like mad they snuggle up against your spouse and fall back to sleep.

6. Set the timer on your watch to beep every 20 minutes, and wash your hands each time it beeps. It's good training for avoiding insanity when you do the same in your next Ironman to remind yourself to eat. Put watches on the kids (thanks Timex, for the 23 extra watches) and do the same for them.

7. Airborne. Vitamin C. Twice as often as recommended. You might end up with kidney stones, but you won't have that damn virus. Turn one of those unused fuel belts into a anti-germ utility belt, lysol wipes, vitamin C, hand sanitizer, spare face masks..

Not that I have a big race coming up. Because like I said in the last blog, Hawaii 70.3 is the big DNF. I know what you're thinking, but I swear, I'm not going to run this time. However, I would really really like to go run/swim/support without whatever Henry and Wyatt found at Chuck E. Cheese.

PS - I'm not trying to exclude the non-mom friends. This can apply to sick spouses, significant others, roommates, and small pets as well. Although those with small pets probably don't need to bring over the neighbor's dog.

PPS - Get well soon Wee!

What the heck are you doing?

Unfortunately, it seems a whole bunch of triathletes are facing ITBS (am I the only weirdo who reads that IrriTable Bowel Syndrome?) and have equally angry illiotibial bands, attachments, fascia, knees, etc. If you are not facing an IT band injury, you should probably leave now. Or scroll down and read about kaizen. It's bad juju to read about ITBS if you don't have it. But for those commiserating, here's what is working for me.

#1 is probably the most important but also the lamest thing I've done is the resting. I hate the resting. Yet I did it for almost 6 weeks now and am finally seeing improvement. 4.5 weeks in I could ride my bike again, and now I am starting to run short distances (non-distances) on it without pain. The rest was unavoidable after Arizona, it hurt too much to even consider cheating. 

#2 is only slightly more fun than the resting. It's the rolling. On the Trigger Point rolling pin thing with skater wheels, better described here: Quadballer I was able to spend some time with Cassidy, it's creator, in Arizona and he demonstrated the best way to use it on a piece of crap IT band like mine.

#3 is Jaco. Light years more fun than the resting and the rolling! Jaco Van Delden Physical Rehab is my life saver. He got me to two Konas injury-free. The guy is wicked smaht, and freaking hilarious. So not only am I being treated and learning about the injury, I am laughing. Jaco and I have been hanging out once or twice a week. He sometimes tries to kill me by sticking his elbows in my biggest, sore-est, rear-est muscles, and I scream at him, but I leave feeling better every time. He has a pretty killer new website too.

#4 is the pull buoy. I'm swimming tons. Which is about 1/4 the total volume of an actual swimmer. I do at least half of it with a pull buoy so that the lame leg is still resting, and am careful not to push off the wall very hard. Coach Paul swears that hard swimming will make the running come back faster when it's time, and in my very slow return to cycling, it seems he was right. The fitness isn't totally gone.

#5 is ART. No, I'm not taking out my anger on canvas Pollack-style. ART is for Active Response Technique Therapy that Tanya Castro at Peak Performance is providing to help stretch me out and un-stick my evil fascia from my quad. ART comes highly recommended from many triathletes who say it saved them from ITBS, and it certainly seems to be helping me.

I am getting in some real workouts now, ones that don't involve ridiculously short rest intervals (what is it with swimming and the tiny intervals?) or rubber caps! I am not my old runner self by any means, but in the past three weeks I've worked up from 5 to 13 hours of training - which I'll top off with a swim/bike/something (probably involving holding a daquiri while screaming at my running friends suffering in the Kona heat) this weekend at Hawaii 70.3. 

Swim Bike Stop.

On Friday I fly to Kona for the Hawaii 70.3.  I love Kona, and I love this race. It was my first Half Ironman two years ago. At the time I had never ridden my bike more than 40 miles and I was scared to death! I didn't know if I could finish.. I did, and I ended up with my first kona slot. The hub and I downed a six-pack of corona under a tree while attempting my first bike disassembly, discussing the reality of actually doing a big scary Ironman and whether we were ready for it. In spite of swearing for 4 hours and 50 minutes that I would never ever do another half, let alone a full, I took it and went on to love the Ironman. 

Last year I chased Bree the whole way and we cheered each other on at every little out and back. I caught my friend Jaco and my coach Raul and ran with them part of the way. After Amy's 8 tequila shots at the finish line I had to confiscate the bottle, and then force shots on friends as they crossed the line. This year, I get to swim in the gorgeous water at Hapuna, bike to Hawi and back, and then quit. The big DNF. There have been days in my three years of triathlon that I wished I had an excuse to quit, just because I was tired or bonking or just plain wimpy that day, but now that I have to quit and I'm not able to run it, it's a whole different story. In triathlon I pretty much get the swim over with, and then sight-see and gorge myself with sugar on the ride so that I can get to the run and GO! This year I will get to the run and stop.

I am not turning in a T2 bag. It's the only way. Coach says that he will tackle me if I try to run out of T2. I think I could outrun him, but I'm not confident enough in that to try. It would be really embarrassing if he dragged me down by my braids. I considered a wig and a wardrobe change.. but the big picture is a healthy Kona build, and that's more important than running on Saturday. So Saturday is practice, more time in Kona, my first real-life training with Coach Paul, and no doubt another fun trip to Kona.. with a completely different end goal.

Honus past - 2006, shocked to have finished:

And Honu 2007, where Amy and the tequila bottle made for an interesting recovery:

That's not me in the bowl. It's Amy, after kissing the TV weatherman emcee and yelling into the microphone "I love the weather!"

The Mom Thing.

I'm about two weeks too late with this, but this story about Dara Torres is just incredible. A forty-one year old mom who is faster than ever before.. she rocks. 

Is there any physiological benefit to having a baby? Who knows. I am done having babies, so I can't collect any empirical data for y'all. Bree touched on this a while ago.  I'm parking my opinion right here with her - maybe it's a little bit of prioritizing, a little bit of time management, and add in one of my favorite mom mottos "No wasted miles!".. and well, who knows what else. We are all motivated by different things. I'm adding the photo again, because it is the only photo I have of us three Hawaii Moms, and because it cracks me up. It's the Ko Olina Triathlon in 2006. Something funny happened that will likely never, ever happen again. I caught Bree. You know why? Because Bree had given birth like three days prior. K was brand new and it was her first race back. Clearly, she recovered fully. And better than ever before! My good friend and training buddy Ingrid (center) won the race, she's an Xterra pro and a new mom who recently hopped on over to South Africa to race the nine day Cape Epic --  7+ hours of mountain bike racing per day at 5 months post-partum. 

(I must be uphill)

While I certainly don't aim as high as Dara Torres, I have hope that there are many improvements in my triathlon future. I suppose when I stop thinking that, then it will be time to move on. But in response to the Dara movie, my message for the day is go forth and reproduce, girlfriends!

Umm, except you, Liz. This was in no way directed at you. Boss is the perfect baby and I'm sure your two ovaries, one uterus and zero testicles are all fine and dandy and will be ready when/if you need them, OK?

Even Christmas.

Sky loves me every day, even christmas.

She pets the kitties nicely everday, even  christmas.

She starts all of her sentences with the phrase "You know, .."

She is also a good girl everyday, even christmas. We are not sure why christmas is an add-on, but she loves me, so I don't care.

kaizen

I ran! A whopping 25 minutes total, mostly in circles. It is finally possible to run again, but the little pulling and twangs or pain reminded me that while progress is being made, I am still injured. But things are looking up!

I was reading about Japanese culture today in my big fat super-intellectual book (ok, so it was an article on Toyota in this week's New Yorker) and found the word kaizen -- japanese philosophy of continuous improvement based on progress made in slow and steady gains in every arena of life. In time, the small improvements add up to huge gains. Adaptations need to be made, at every level, to improve efficiency and to reach goals. I also learned that the elevators of Manhattan transport the equivalent of the world's population every five days, but that's not so relevant to me at this moment. Kaizen I can get into. 

I would like to blame one specific pair of shoes for my 4 months of woe. But that would be wasteful. Kaizen seeks to eliminate waste and I have no doubt that blame is emotionally wasteful. I threw those shitty shoes away because that's what Toyota management would want me to do. There are other gains to be made. In triathlon, swimming my ass off this year will save me a few minutes over the course of 2.4 miles. That's teensy in the scale of a ten hour event, but a small step forward. Without running, I have been at the office more, contributing to the company, the big-girl job, and the family finances. They don't even act surprised when I walk in the door anymore. While I mostly jabber on about triathlon, triathlon is not life. My family, the job, my friends and their health and happiness make up the biggest picture. While I still wouldn't choose to not be running, there are ways that my hiatus slowly and steadily improves my life that I will take, make mine, and keep even when I am running again.

I am not running again tomorrow because that's what Toyota management would want from me.

Me, at Stongman last year in Japan. Practicing my peace sign, because when in Rome.. well, this is as Japanese as I get. And yes, there are funny flowers on my head.

On another note, I would like to recall my recommendation of doing totally made-up yoga to a Cake CD. I threw my back out and couldn't swim today. I am so over yoga. 

Y-O-D-A.

I tried the two yoga DVDs I found in my garage. Yesterday's made me fall asleep. Literally. Today's was only slightly better. The highlight was Sky's escape from bedtime instruction. She saw me on the floor and challenged me: "I can touch my toes to my hair." Oh yeah? It helps that your head still takes up a third of your total height. So I tried. She crushed me. 

She turned to critique my position and in her bossiest four year old queen of the waterplay table voice barked "Straighten your arms." I did. "Bend your head back more." I couldn't. She then tried to pull my head back to my feet by my hair. I'm not taking her yoda class anymore, she's mean.

Wyatt wandered up and asked if Yoda does yoga. Does bedtime mean nothing to these people? I told him you have to have legs to do yoga, and it turns out that Yoda does indeed have legs, Wyatt showed me a picture online. Which makes me wonder why Luke carries him around in a baby bjorn. And what else my 6 year old can look up on the internet.

Tomorrow night I'm making up my own yoga, set to the tune of Cake's Motorcade of Generosity. No mean teachers in Sleeping Beauty get-ups allowed. And the day after that, I get to try running for three whole minutes..

Still breathing.

I survived another swim. Here are the highlights:

Sunday Brunch on the water post-race! Omelet, fried rice, granola, a waffle and unlimited coffee. For the sake of my vow to suck less everyday on the nutrition front I did manage to forsake the chocolate-filled doughnut. 

A spotted eagle ray cruised by about 30 feet below me during the race. There's something magical about them - it seems they're flying in slow motion. It was incredibly calm beneath me, and horribly choppy on the surface.  I only got actual air on half my attempts and I was repeatedly smacked in the face with salt water when I tried to sight. 

I caught on to the legs of a local fast guy on the way out into the open water, and let him do all the navigating for me. It was rather repetitive: hit his feet, try to go next to him, realize I can't, go back & draft a while, hit his feet.. repeat. There was no one within sight on either side or behind me, and we were so far out to sea I was afraid to lose him. He thought I was a hyper-competitive spazz, but really I just didn't want to be alone. I'm a wuss in the deep stuff. He ditched me with 1/2 mi to go. The sand on the bottom was moving backwards, and I seemed to be making no forward progress while fighting the current into shore. 57 minutes after I started, I fell up the OCC stairs and over the timing mat, and started looking for the brunch. After apologizing for the feet tapping. It was a pleasant surprise to be called up a while later, mid-waffle, as the 2nd girl and 5th human overall. 

It's a new week, and time for new goals. 

No crap - (take two) I fell off the wagon with all the social events of last week. My boss was in town and we had a business meeting, the kind with frozen maitais and periodic cooling off breaks in the pool, while discussing my transition to full time employment. It was noon somewhere.. I'm going to start by making too much soup today so that there will be leftovers ready when the need to eat hits fast. I posted this one on Timex, I love it and will make it today. Not that you should be taking nutrition tips from me.

No flu - Henry is sick. Whenever a kid gets sick, I get sick. Because when you're going to puke, who do you want to puke on? Mom, of course!

Yoga - I read this article in Runner's World about yoga for runners. Yes, I am still torturing myself by reading Runner's World when I should probably be sticking to the more sedentary fare like People. The intro is about a woman with ITBS that sounds like mine.. I too had to flag down a ride home once. Yoga bores the bejeezus out of me, but I would try voodoo at this point. I have a pile of unopened yoga DVDs that yoga nuts (hi mom!) have given me over the years to try out. It's on.

Friday is Sharkday!

Today's swim was a sharky one. We've got these Konas (think doldrums) that leave the air thick with vog and the ocean like glass. We took the usual route out past the reef, then along the coast, stopping for turtles and pretty scenery along the way. It was an uneventful swim until a paddler came by and told us about a 3-4 foot black tip. We looked around for him, because there's always something cool about seeing a shark in the wild. Remember, I don't run anymore, so I'm desperate to get the HR up. Then a friend comes by on the stand up board and says, yes, there's a little baby there, but you just swam right past the big mama. She didn't know what it was, but it was not a reef shark, and those are the only ones I like to see out there.. Apparently the mama shark was as big as her 9'6" paddle board. Swim workout over!

But don't worry about me, because I will be swimming again soon. Oh yes, there is always more swimming in store. Sunday is the Honolulu Triathlon, in which I will not be participating. This was my first oly race 3 years ago. Last year Bree was so far ahead that people kept telling me I was winning. And I had to keep saying "Thank you, but Bree is just moving so fast you didn't see her." 

I will be swimming the Outrigger Invitational 2-miler instead. Don't be misled by the term invitational, any slouch can sign up, hence my involvement. I've never done this one because Ramsey usually swims it while I secure an Outrigger sunday brunch table and see how many cups of coffee I can fit in while my kids dodge brunch hostess Skin Cancer Lady to get all the chocolate doughnuts they can. Apparently it's less a race than it is a navigational challenge. The buoy is invisible against the Waikiki backdrop and the only clue given to it's whereabouts is that it's at the "Kapahulu Groin" which is just gross really, because couldn't they just call it a junction? Or a "T"? And really, how can a buoy be at a place where two roads meet? I rarely have a race strategy for a swim aside from don't drown, but this time I might tell some big shark stories at the start line. 

Big Cheater.

I fell off the healthy food wagon. Then got back on when girl's night out to the latest Pretty Dempsey flick landed me with a chocolate hangover. But is it cheating to have a serving of costco trail mix and call it healthy when I really only ate the m&ms? 

I got to ride my bike 3.5 hours on Thursday. A real workout, one that doesn't involve ridiculously short rest intervals or rubber caps! It was supposed to be all zone 1 & 2.. but there were some hills I accidently ran into, and some wind I didn't expect.. and now that power tap actually works, well, the Coach can see my transgressions, right there in black and white. 29 minutes in Z3. 12 in Z4. Oops.

18 foot blonde Unidentified Swimming Object spotted off Waikiki today

This morning K, M & I swam out beyond the reef from Outrigger 

took a right and headed for the Royal Hawaiian:

The water was turquoise and glassy and I could see 50 feet in any direction. There were fish everywhere, surface to bottom, flitting about doing their fish business. I saw one making sand. Wonder Woman disappeared and I turned back to find her a few feet under holding her breath while a giant turtle checked her out. We made a little paceline and swam from Diamond Head down the length of Waikiki, just short of the Waikiki Roughwater's 2.4 mi course, splitting it up into a main set of three ten-minute intervals at various paces. K & M will race HI 70.3 in two weeks. I might swim it, but have yet to decide if I prefer a DNS or DNF. It's a tough call.

Jaco the PT threw me on the tready for 3 minutes to check my form. The pain kicked in about 2.5 minutes into it. I admit it, I am not in good form. I thought I was healing but I am not. And it's making me a little bit crazy. If you're reading this from far away, be grateful you didn't run into me today -- In the span of an hour I could be found goofing off at the swim, crying while walking to work, yelling at my cell phone for getting lost in my giant bag, cussing at my latte for being hot, arm wrestling my co-worker for the parking pass and purposefully stepping on bees. I'm starting to make Tom Cruise seem sane. I am such a grump. I'm considering dying my hair black, getting a trench coat and a Splish with the grim reaper on it and going Goth.

Clearly I need a nice, positive, refreshing list. I will call it The Upside of Swimming Instead of Having Fun Running: My fingernails are really clean. My running shoes are not getting dirty. And my ipod battery is definitely not running out. Man shoulders. Oh wait. Feel free to add yours, I'm all out.

Tomorrow is a new day, as a wise four year old I know likes to remind me each night when I tuck her in..

A little lacking in the wonder.

Wonder Woman arrived. Coolest suit EVER. But I ordered too big. Apparently, Wonder Woman has boobs. Who knew? So Wonder Woman will get passed on to Maggs or Amy (who have not had babies, and let me tell you this is no coincidence) for the summer swim series. And Splish is sending another, smaller, no boobs required. No one will be mistaking me for Lynda Carter any time soon.

But my m&m suit fits perfectly, and I love it. Being that I'm still not able to run my m&ms off, I am starting to look a little like one. You know, round and fatty in the middle, long skinny atrophied quads..

I drove to the pool today out of habit. I cussed in my head when I saw the pool cleaner guy's car (he is my arch nemesis) and then it hit me: there's no swim on my schedule today. What am I doing at the pool? Willingly walking into the gates of hell? And I drove to Starbucks. Howard the barista pretended not to know me, as it's been a while since I've skipped swimming in favor of coffee. Ha ha funny joke give me my soy latte before I say something that makes you spit in it, Howie.

Henry pulled his little hamstring at baseball this weekend. Last night he used it as an excuse not to take Sky's dress to the laundry when I asked for help. When I insisted, he came up with a better one: He cannot touch anything that has touched a bagina. I thought about telling him exactly how he landed here on Earth, but didn't have time to deal with the hours of showering that would ensue. For good measure, he added that he will never, ever touch anything that has touched a bagina. If he starts calling it the B-word I promise to take him to a speech therapist.

Mother's Day

My coach has been telling me that all this swimming is keeping me fit for cycling and running. A rather transparent attempt trick me into the pool for such a smart man, don't you think? For my first! ride! back! Katherine and I crashed the Boca training clinic to swim through chop so messy that I was fortunate to finish on the correct island, and then we hopped on the bike for two hours. Katherine is my doppleganger. I could totally be her stunt double. More importantly, we do everything at the same pace - swim, bike, run.. we even had our kids at the same age. We quickly found the usual characters from the Boca Sunday ride. I was under strict orders not to push and to stay away from the boys. I behaved, mostly, by keeping the cadence high, staying at Z1/Z2, and not climbing.  But we hung on to the boys anyway. First day back, and I was the same old me, at the same HR and speed I was holding before the month off.  Perhaps the Coach wasn't trying to trick me after all.

The swim race is done and I have photos to prove it. Sort of - the only finish pic was fugly and I not going to post that on my own blog. I was 4.5 minutes faster than last year and finished in 36:39 (~ 1.75 mi), seventh overall, first AG, and first mom, a special division given the date. I got lost looking for a turn buoy we needed to hit before turning along the coast, but that's part of the game. I cut it close around the island and swam in foot deep water over the reef as the waves rolled over for a while - and I didn't even stand up and run like a cheater (unlike last year.) I did body surf some though. 

Here are Maggs (race director & swimmer), Sky  & I post-race - Maggs would like me to add the disclaimer that she only slept two hours last night so she's not her sun safety barbie self. She is also not 6'4" - she must be uphill!

And here's the fam, pre-race, hiding from the rain in the back of the wagon:

It was a nice mother's day, with many of those super-useful school project presents from the kids. After the swim there was a Monopoly game in which a new rule was introduced: Due to extreme thieving, no child can be left alone at the table, even during food and pee breaks. We're calling it the Wyatt Rule.

Joy

They're ganging up on me. Coach Paul, physical therapist extraordinaire Jaco, and the orthopedic surgeon.  Ride your bike. Apparently Kan told Jaco (who told my sister's ex-boyfriend's cousin) that with an MRI as pretty as mine, and four weeks of rest, it's time to start spinning my wheels again. And after digging his elbows into my hips while I squirmed and held my breath and tried not to cry (they call it physical therapy) Jaco agrees. Go. Starting tomorrow morning, with the Boca group in Kailua. 

I'm about this happy about it.

Sunday is the Flat Island swim race around the appropriately named island below. The race will make it 7 swims in as many days this week, and 24,000+ meters. My husband doesn't want to race this year. He says he's not in shape for it. I told him to race as Shaggy Rogers. Deep down, I think he's afraid I might keep up with him. After all, my neck is nearly bigger than my head now.. I can see how one would be intimidated. Or just disgusted.

I was supposed to what?

A few wise friends have asked what I learned at my last race. I've put off answering. No one told me I was supposed to learn out there.. I thought I was just supposed to not die.

But like smart guy Friedrich said (or was that one of Angelina's tattoos?) What does not kill me only makes me.. um, learn something or whatever, yes, I learned out there. I think I've learned even more in the 24.5 days of forced rest that have followed. Here's what I've got:

• Not to do an Ironman injured. It's hard enough healthy.
  
• That I need to thank the masters coach, not cuss at him under my breath, because he has helped me. And apparently he has crazy-good hearing.
  
• That a swim warm-up works & is not just something swimmer people do to let the rest of us know they're real swimmers. 
  
• To travel a day earlier. A Friday arrival for a Sunday race is not enough time.
• That stand-up paddling the day before the race is not smart.  
  
• That I need to not space out and sing on the bike (while racing).
  
• That when it's all falling apart if I just keep moving I will get it done. And I will be happy that I did.
  
• That my heart rate can keep me from being the slacker I am, should I choose to listen to it, instead of deciding that this stupid watch must be broken.
  
• That my time-to-get-in the water cry is a necessary part of race prep, and that the people who make that video will get a shot of it and play it at awards on the big screen every single time.
  
• To be patient. To say no to workouts and events I'm dying to do because they're only going to hurt me in the long run. I must embrace my inner couch potato. It would help if we had cable.
• That my zealous tri-friends will ask to borrow all of my fancy new stuff to use in the races I can no longer do. And I will say yes. 
  
• Not to joke about having my bum leg cut off so I can get one of those super springy carbon feet. People take offense.
  
• That I can swim 4000 meters. In one day. In one workout. In just over one hour. 
  
• That the Dr. will not inject vaseline into my leg where the quad and IT band are "stuck together," even when I offer to provide the lube.

14 things in 24.5 days = potentially more than I learned my whole senior year(s) at Cal. Sorry mom & dad, I know that was pricey.

With respect to mistakes and learning I feel compelled to share the Best Spelling Test Ever. Start up top.

PS. I realize that my 24h to dwell on a race are up. I need an extension, I have nothing else to dwell on.

PPS. Three days, no junk.

The Needle and the Damage Done..

No, I'm not taking up heroin, but I am a bit like the addict Neil sings about in the Needle in the Damage Done. I am back on the sauce. I went a whopping 27 hours without my Starbucks soy latte(liquid crack) and then I caved. The guys at work are disappointed in me, because apparently I talk even more after my soy latte. I just didn't have a good enough reason to quit. However, I am still off the junk food. Today's big challenge will be the baseball potluck. I might have to duct tape my mouth shut.

In other non-news, I got a big old cortisone shot to the knee yesterday. It's all very Varsity Blues quarterback (put me back in coach, I know I can win us the league championship now!) but as the rest continues and the recovery stalls, I'm getting a little desperate. There are only so many stretches, exercises, massages and treatments a girl can do.

I used The Google to find a picture related to The Needle and the Damage Done, one of my 68 favorite Neil songs, and then I found it: Live Neil Young, all over youtube. Why hadn't I thought to look for that before? I actually started this posting 14 hours ago, and am just now done watching all the Neil on youtube. I am starving, and I don't know where my children are. This is much better youtube use than watching skinny white guys do IT band stretches and exercises. Or dolphiny humans swim in slow motion with really boring commentary.

Back to the cortisone. I hear that it just might make me think my knee works again and trick me into training too early. But I swear I'm just adding it to the healing regimen, and will continue to rest another couple of weeks, at least. I'm not so ancy now that I got my 20 miler fix this morning.. (I joke, I joke.)

Here's a favorite - Harvest Moon was the first dance at our shotgun wedding, approximately 57 years ago:

Monday Morning Optimism

I have some goals for this week. The first one has been the goal every week for about ten years now and it hasn't happened yet, so maybe this should just be called Monday Morning Guarded Optimism. Or Monday Morning Unlikely BS.

No crap.

I will not eat junk food this week. I choose today to start because I spent the weekend living on caramel chocolate chip brownies. I figure I have a week's worth of reserves stuck to my ass and thighs. So as of today, it's a week of eating like a grown-up. And no coffee.. Which will prevent me from calling coffee "breakfast" and force me to actually eat something in the morning, and should  save me $25 this week. Another reason for choosing today to start is because I am beginning to see the effects of zero exercise (swimming doesn't count, if I'm not sweaty it isn't exercise.) As is everyone at the pool when I show up oozing over my splish bikini bottoms. There is no longer room to screw up like there was during IM training.

No running.

Yes, I've been not running for three weeks now, and you would think it was getting easier, but it is not. It sucks a little bit more every single day. I wake up in the morning and want to go for a run, and even spend time justifying it in my head.. maybe the increased blood flow would speed up the healing blah blah blah.. I will make this goal, but I just wanted to reiterate how much it will suck.

No whining about the no running.

Um, starting now. Ok, NOW. After that last whiney paragraph above.

No more than an hour per day on Wii tennis. 

Because it's making my shoulder hurt, and even though I hate the swimming, if I lose the swimming I will have nothing left and will have to give in to my inner couch potato and lie around eating twinkies all day.  I should probably add no dancing around singing "How does it feel to get your butt kicked by your mom?" to that goal.

This photo has nothing to do with anything above, but I ran into it perusing running photos and just had to share. It cracks me up. This is Ramsey about to finish his first marathon last December. Apparently, he is racing Thumbelina to the line:

Jeez O Pete.

I need to dedicate a blog to Bree right now - anyone looked at the St. Croix 70.3 results this morning? Third overall in her first big pro event, in a stacked field, coming in just behind World Champ Mirinda and umm, that Nina lady. HOLY COW. 

I am not at all surprised. Seriously. Mirinda had better watch out ;)

Bree is every bit as wonderful and fun and sweet as she sounds in her blog (linked at right) and she works her butt off. She could not deserve this more. I am so excited right now! I mean, we expect her to dominate our local scene, but it's so fun to see her go do it in the real world too! Congrats Wee, you make Hawaii proud.

ELF rocked her pro debut as well today, congratulations! I hope you girls are living it up on that other island in the sun right now.. 

Me and Bree, after her record setting 9:47 at Kona last year - recovering in the ocean:

The Joy of Swimming

Arizona 08, peeking at the watch, chanting 

I will not cry if it's over an hour. 

I will not cry if it's over an hour.. (and looking like I have four arms)

There are two kinds of swimmers: those who swam as kids, and those who didn't. And few people who didn't seem to make the jump to the amazing times of those that did. My husband falls into the did camp. He can train for two weeks, jump into a 2.4 mile race and swim sub-50. There are special words for people like him that I won't use here.

I am a non-swimmer. For the first two years of triathlon, I didn't bother. I kind of liked being last out and playing catch up. I joined a masters group my third year and swam twice a week. This is my fourth year and thus probably time I learn to swim.

I asked local swimstar Flanagan what I needed to do to get under the hour mark, which would mean 5-9 minutes off my previous IM swim times. This was around the time when he was training for the open water Olympic trials and I could only talk to him in 5-10 sec blurbs in between the intervals he did all day long. He told me to get in the water a minimum of four times a week. I told him that would ruin my hair. But I listened.. swimming twice as much as I ever had before.. and totally ruined my hair.  I learned how to do flip turns without knocking myself out. And like smartypants Paulo likes to preach, sometimes more is indeed more. In those 4 months of swimming, my 100 meter time fell from 1:31 to 1:16. Wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes, swimmer people, I know that isn't anywhere near fast. But in Arizona, with the help of my Blue Seventy Helix Cheater Suit, I rolled in at 58:43.  And yes, I swam around all the buoys. I think I smiled through the entire first loop of the bike. The majority of the texts and emails received at the end of that day were of the "When the hell did you learn to swim?" variety.

Next goal: Sub-hour at Kona without the help of the Cheater Suit. And five days a week.

You might notice that I didn't actually mention any Joy in The Swimming in my little swim success story. So here's what I've got: I saw a shark in a swim race last winter, so that was cool. Oh and once I found $5 in the ocean. And that's about it for nice things I can say about swimming. There are so many better things to do in the ocean.. like the paddling I did for ten years. Here's some cross training I did in March. (See the ruined hair? And the smiling? Do you ever see people swimming and smiling?)

(Thanks Joss & Title Nine)