Birthday Beast.

When ever someone wished Sky a happy birthday yesterday, she replied with Happy Birthday! But what started out happily enough slowly got ugly. Around 4 pm I heard her shriek at her brother to get her a towel NOW! and Ramsey remarked that Birthday Princess was becoming Birthday Beast. By the end of cake and presents, we had reached a new low: Birthday Bitch.

Don't even think about touching her Belle.

Ramsey has had an eventful couple of days. First, the Red Bull girls stalked him. He was riding his bike home from college, and the Red Bull girls would drive by yelling and whistling, then pull into a driveway up the way, wait for him to go by, and repeat. Over and over along Kal Hwy. Poor, poor husband. Pretty soon he may tell us not to hate him because he's beautiful.

Then we went to Chinese food. We all got our fortunes, and Ramsey read his, made a funny face and read it aloud:

An admirer is concealing his affection for you.

We're kind of hoping he continues to conceal it. Forever.

I went a little crazy today & cut me some british fringe.

Or is it Aussie fringe? I was inspired by Elle.. turns out the bangs didn't come with The Boobs or The Body. Darn. They did, however, come with a guarantee that I'm going to have to buy my first ever hairdryer very, very soon. And yes, that is indeed chain grease on my arm. I admit it - I am considering a trainer ride tonight while I watch Spirit of the Marathon. But am afraid it might mess up my hair.

Define Amateur.

There will never be enough time. Every single day I wake up in the dark and wonder how I'll fit it all in. The job, the kids' breakfast, the shrieking of Move It, Move It, Get in the Car! and Put on some underwear! the school drop-off, the commute, the work work work, the pick up, the homework, the dinner that no one eats. Not unlike every other working mom on the planet.

Everyone's got a list of priorities that they base their daily decisions upon. I think mine is in line with the majority of triathletes: fam, job, sport. I don't think that's a list that will ever change

There's a lot of overlap. I know age-group athletes who quit their jobs, have bikes more pricey than Chrissie's, and don't have families to prioritize. And they're happy, which is what matters most.

I know professional athletes with full-time jobs and families, though it seems the ones at the highest level of competition have families, and are so successful in their racing that triathlon is the job.

It's a blurry line.

I've talked to experts. The word that comes up a lot is potential. Which makes me think of high school physics and energy and a spring all stretched out.

My children found cheese.

Apparently my kids went to church when they stayed home with my mom Kona-weekend. There was an awesome conversation at our house:

Sky, out of nowhere, declares: Cheesus has orange hair.
Wyatt: Cheese doesn't have hair, Sky.
Sky: I said, Cheesus has orange hair.
Wyatt: You mean Jesus?
Sky: NO, Wyatt, CHEESUS! I saw him at church with Nan.
The whole conservation leaves a really confusing image in my brain. One involving a cheeto.

This weekend has been full of awesomeness:

I agreed to ride my bike - then got rained out. I think I'll try again next week. Or the week after, or maybe in March. This is the current view from my porch.. two whole mountains have disappeared.

So I took Sky to see High School Musical 3. There is nothing I like less than a musical. The whole bursting into song - yet somehow still maintaining coolness thing does not work for me. It's one or the other, people. Within 5 minutes, my phone fell out of my pocket and onto the floor, invisible until the lights came back on. 10 minutes later Sky was curled up in my lap, sound asleep. Leaving me all alone, trapped by my phone. Turns out Troy Bolton is dreamy..

Then I did the thing I've always wanted to do in the Niketown 30k: I ran the first ten miles, then cruised on home. I'm not recovered enough for 18.6 miles, but 10 at marathon pace followed by 4 easy miles up the hill to my house sounded about right. Rams told me to run the first 5 in 30 minutes, just to mess with people.. but even though I like evil plans, I don't think my legs could do that right now. I ran 10 pretty comfortably in 71 minutes. My legs were happy, my breathing was in control.. but my ave HR was 179. Apparently my heart has not recovered. I have a marathon in 2 weeks. In Vegas. Recover, body!

What have I gotten myself into now?

I'm still swimming. And swimming and swimming. And I met this guy at the gym last night and was dumb enough to agree to pick him up and take him swimming this morning. It would be one thing if he could keep up.. but man, he says he's swimming 5k and by the time he finishes I am going to be so bored.

Ha! I didn't count laps, I just counted how many times Andy lapped me. When we hit 30 I was done. It's nice to have the workout done by the time the sun comes up!

Mr. Roper asks if Ramsey wants to take it outside.

Yesterday I was driving up my hill and came up on TriMoving/Core Hawaii's cycling group. They loop around on my street a couple of evenings per week. There were parked cars on either side of the road, leaving room for one-way traffic. And there were cyclists heading up the hill, and cyclists coming back down the hill, all in that one lane.

Now, if I were a cyclist-hating asshole, I might have tried to squeeze my way through. But I followed the last guy up slowly, as he used most of the road to cut back and forth. I rode by some friends waiting at the top and they asked if I was the RR Sag Wagon. I waved to 4 or 5 people, all the while rolling along, then noticed that a man was trying to drive through me. I turned up the really steep hill with just a few cyclists coming down, just as he tried to go around me - and into them. He saw them in time, but just barely. Now we're going straight uphill on a 15 mph street. He starts honking and trying to pass me, but there's nowhere to go. Stuck behind me, he's flailing his arms like mad and so close I can see his mouth foaming. I'm going the speed limit. Then he lays on the horn. He honks the whole way up our quiet road, foam flying, muttering and so close I still can't believe he hasn't hit me yet.

I debate driving right by my house so he won't know where I live, but it's a dead end and I've nowhere to go. And the guy is old as dirt so I could probably take him. I open the garage, roll up the windows, lock the doors and start honking, like the cowardly wife I am. He blocks me in and comes flying out of his car faster than he's likely moved in a decade. Ramsey comes out as he is yelling at my window. I get out and it goes like this:

Me: Stop spitting on me and get-the-something out of my garage.

Old Angry Guy: I'm not in your garage (he is) and you should have gone around the cyclists!

Me: I was driving safely so as not to hit anyone. It's called the speed limit.

OAG: You should have gotten out of my way!

Ramsey's quick to take over & he starts screaming at Ramsey that HE IS IN A HURRY! To which Ramsey calmly replies Then why are you standing here in my driveway? Ramsey repeatedly tells OAG to go home, until the man asks if HE'S GOING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!?

This is Ramsey. He's finishing his first triathlon. I am half-amazon and at times the man outweighs me by 75 pounds. He makes me feel small. And his horns are a little scary.

And this is the moron that wanted to fight him:

I think Ramsey snorted. And evil Mr. Roper didn't leave until we wrote down his license number and brought out the phone. He probably went home and kicked his dog.

The moral of my long boring story: Don't be an evil old Mr. Roper who picks fights with guys half your age and twice your size and tries to run over cyclists. And stay away from the spitter in the brown camry - JYA 637 is a real jerk.

Back in the water..

But only to show Stefan just how much we appreciate his coaching:

Wendy, Maggs, Hina, Stefan, me, Katherine, and five more Stefans.

I hunted down a photo of Stefan, simplified it a little in Photoshop and Dawn & Ira at Splish made these suits for us. The girls met early, suited up, and headed to the usual Tuesday morning swim. We were meant to be 8 - but a few couldn't make it. Stefan had a good laugh upon realizing that was his face we were sporting as we all walked up to Kaimana together. We're lucky to have you out there coaching every Tuesday and Friday, Stefan!

I swam well today and was again hit with a taste of regret about my race last weekend. I should not have swum 1:04. I should have cared more and fought harder. Then I reminded myself that it's time to let go and get over myself. The 24 hours to wallow are long over!

Things are happening. I start work with a new company the week after next. I will be writing environmental impact statements. Hippie-science background + writing = good. I like the people already.

I wrote a piece for Honolulu Magazine that will run in December. It's twice as long as the one they gave me in June.. I'll post a link when it hits the web. I'm editing away, freelance, in the evenings. Thanks, Allan.

And I have a race plan. It's a short-term plan, but there is a race on the horizon. Soon. And there's no bike required. I have to fly on a big metal death-box, yes, but it will be worth it. I'm deeming Kona my long run day, and now it's taper time. Recovery, recovery, recovery! More on that plan later..

I traded my bike for five Splishes and a doughnut.

I managed to keep her out of the pool on Friday - by telling her that her boots would make her sink. This is Sky post-field trip. I'm going to have to ask the Oakley man for another pair of those glasses.. she keeps stealing mine.

Jaco, the physical therapist superstar, turned 40 yesterday. You know it's a good party when you catch your hair on fire. This photo is pre-fire, pre-kamakaze shots, and pre-burlesque dancers. At some point we stopped taking photos. I owe Wen big time for telling me what that stink was, then extinguishing my hair.


It's the first weekend of no Ironman.. but I didn't have too hard a time finding things to do.

I finally painted the new bedroom. Well, supervised the painting of the new bedroom, anyway.. they don't enforce child labor laws in Hawaii, do they?


I took a lesson from Wyatt in recovery. He decided that Wii baseball was too much work standing up, so he played lying down. With fluids near to keep hydrated.


I ran, just because I felt like it. Carrie at Saucony gave me these last Friday, and I broke them in with my favorite marathon. I love them.. and put 20 easy miles on them this week.


My bike is still on the Big Island, enjoying a little vacation. It's probably lying on Hapuna beach right now watching the tiger sharks cruise by. Or maybe it's on a barge.. or maybe it rolled off the barge and sleeps with the fishes. Who cares?

There are lots of questions about next year. Pro card? Kona qualifier? Boston? I have no plans, and really no idea of what I want. It hit me somewhere along the Queen K last week that triathlon is not a have to. It's a want to.. if I want to. I've got lots of time to figure that out.

I can't hear you when you use your whiney voice.

Apparently someone listened, because my whining has been answered.

During an interview at 8 this morning, I was offered a job. At 9am, I was offered another, for a lot more money. At noon I was offered a great racing opportunity - no bike required. And at 5pm I was hired to write a piece for a local magazine. Two hours later, I was offered another web design gig. Did you hear the PHEewwwww? I just lost ten pounds from my shoulders. Not really, but that is on my off season list of things to do.

Kona pics keep rolling in. Did I mention my head was not in the game on the bike? Somehow D or Von managed to capture that feeling:

I forgot to smile for my finish picture. I also forgot to pick up a finisher's shirt, a medal, or buy my finisher photo. I did remember to touch Andy Potts' arm when he walked by me.. there are instincts even IM can't take away. Luckily Tess caught me on Alii, so there's evidence that I finished. And that I have one giant leg and one skinny one. And now I'm worried that I might be four months pregnant.

My form is crap, but my Splish by Betty Designs is potentially awesome enough to divert attention away from the arm crossing and knock-knees.

I am chaperoning a kindergarten field trip to the Contemporary Museum today. It's one of the most beautiful spots on Oahu. When I told my daughter I was coming, she told me to put extra clothes in my bag. Why? Because I'm going to jump in the pool! she said, with the most evil laugh I have ever heard out of her. As far as I know, she's never even been to TCM. But the pool is hard to resist..

Reality Bites.

I think I had ten of Bonnie's M-dot cookies on monday.. easing me back into reality in a sugar-haze.

It's funny how far away a 40 minute flight can take me. In Kona I forgot about it all. Well, except for missing my kids. Some of them, some of the time, anyway. I forgot about the job hunt. I have two promised offers that have not materialized. I am in the midst of three interviews in 24 hours. High heels hurt. Not knowing where the mortgage will be coming from hurts more.

In the wake of Kona, acquaintances and colleagues here on Oahu tell me that they can't believe I could do something so difficult. And I think to myself that I had a week of vacation with ten rather intense hours scheduled in. I had friends from all over the world to play with, good food, and an excuse to put my feet up any chance I got. It's real life that's hard.

While Animal Planet would tell you this anole is molting, I like to think of it as shedding my perma-splish. My back looks much like his does right now:

My kids continue to crack me up. Democracy took on a new meaning in the back of the volvo yesterday. There was a vote on the way home regarding whether Jurassic Park or Hannah Montana's 3D Concert would be the family movie night choice. Hands were raised for each, then Sky declared: It's one against two, I win.

I wonder if that would have worked on the podium at Kona. You're 9:55, you're 10:05, I'm 10:06.. I win.

I ran an hour easy this afternoon. Three days of sitting still was enough! Time to start thinking about the marathon in December..

Race photos & Cliff-jumping.

First, let's talk a little about Ironman-induced delirium. I mentioned that K had a difficult day out there. There were copious amounts of vomit. But she fought hard to come back and after suffering through the first 13.1, she ran like crazy to catch up with a 3:35 marathon split. Katherine is an incredibly talented woman and I am always impressed by the way she seems to do it all, and do it well. But it turns out that she is no good at putting sunscreen on her own back. In her depleted state, she decided to sunscreen up with a face stick at some point on Saturday. It kind of looks like she tried to write foxy across her lower back:


Some folks out there on Saturday were living for the finish chute. This is the moment I was living for - it's all about getting to T2. Thanks C&KY for the photo:

It's funny how quickly you can tell what's in (or isn't in) your legs. The grimace-smile at Wee sums up that oh-crap-this-is-going-to-hurt feeling I had as I started the marathon:

As I ran up Palani Hill I found myself really, really dizzy and thinking about walking it. OK, I was dying to walk it. Then I looked at the Timex banners all lined up and thought "run past Timex before embarrassing Timex" and made it up somehow. I dove for the first salt score right after this shot. Note that the dude on the left is having a really hard time shaka-ing with his right hand. He must have overlooked that in his training regimen.

This is the end: the turn at the bottom of the hill onto Kuakini. I was a little delirious, because I didn't recognize Aaron as I came up on him, and realized who he was as I passed and he patted my shoulder and said something encouraging. He's the CEO on my left - the fittest CEO in the world. In my memory it's dark out at this moment. I have no idea why, but apparently my brain was playing tricks on me. If you look closely, Ramsey is just off his shoulder, running down to catch me at the finish:

Thanks Jon for the photos!

Sunday morning Tom, the maker of Team Timex, picked Ramsey and I up to go jump off the cliffs at Keauhou. It doesn't look very high in the photos. But trust me, it was scary. This is me pointing out to Ben, Tom & Scott that it's a long way down and maybe we ought to rethink that whole ladies first thing:

Tristan, Tom, Ben, me & Keith - Ramsey told us to stick out our guts. Only Tom fell for it:

Awards were wet. There were rivers running across the parking lot and shelters being built out of tables. I took cover from the pouring rain under my bowl while on the podium, and Bob Babbit gave me hell for bringing my beer up with me. Some of the Oahu gang during the rain - Billy, Mark, John and Cliff. As expected, John swam faster than Andy Potts - 47 and change and went 9:22 in his first Ironman.. with a flat! That's crazy fast.


Ramsey and I braving the floods to head out to the parties..

The responses to my report were so encouraging, and as time goes by I find myself more and more satisfied with what I did out there on Saturday. Thank you everyone who cheered me on, in Kona and on the web! A big shout out to Haley, who also left it all out there, including the entire contents of her stomach. I found her on Alii suffering through her first Kona as a professional. She ran with me a bit, but was too sick to run for very long. She fought it out though, and finishing when it all goes wrong is an incredible feat and a win in itself. You rock, Haley!

I can never sleep after IM.

You know you've been racing all day when you find yourself eating pb m&ms and stuffing the wrappers down your shirt hours after finishing. I was sitting next to a garbage can.

So much happens during an Ironman. But there's not that much to say:

I swam inside, away from the crowd and didn't get beat up. I was never scared. I also didn't get the draft and swam slower than last year in spite of big swim gains. I was really disappointed with my 1:04.

The bike was OK until Waikoloa, then all hell broke loose. The cross winds were lifting my front wheel off the ground and dropping it a foot over.. it was scary, and some people crashed. The climb to Hawi felt great. I saw Cathy near Waikoloa, just as happy and sweet as can be. Her entire family is just pure joy and so fun to be around. I saw Chrissie in her splish part way up to Hawi. Coming down the same thing was going on with the wind and I slowed way down. Coming back, I did my usual sucky space out. My time of 5:35 continues the trend (3 Konas: 5:22 5:28 and 5:35) of getting slower. You can't fake it in winds like that, and my six week build from zero to 112 wasn't enough.

The run did not start off well. I ran the first mile in 6:35. oops. R told me the AG winner was 20 minutes up. My legs did not want to go. My brain yelled walk, it's useless, quit, and every step of the day was a battle. I kept picking places up ahead to quit. Or walk. I didn't talk like I usually do. I had nothing. Liz cheered me on a lot, until I passed her husband. Kerrie actually heckled her husband when I started to come up on him. My salt dissolved so I picked up salt tabs on the ground along the way and ate them. Really. In front of the big group of Bocas cheering me on up Palani I was waving and trying to smile, then -- ooh! a salt tab! pop it in mouth and back to running. They said it was 108 in the energy lab and I believe it. I ran 3:21. For a grand total of 10:06 -- my new Ironman personal worst, in both time and placement. I was 3rd in my AG, fourth amateur.

But I am happy. I've never run so hard, or fought so hard to keep moving. Not walking a step was an accomplishment in itself. I got what I expected. I knew it was going to be hard, and it was. I've only raced in easy Kona conditions, and these were not them. But I love the people at these races, and all the support and watching the accomplishments. And I think it's a blessing that I didn't get the slot for next year by winning the AG, because it's time for a rest from IM. Maybe shorter stuff, or maybe just marathons.. but as grumpy and ungrateful as I was going into this, well, I need to listen to that. If I miss it, it will be there.

Katherine had a hard day as well, and went 10:40. She was sick for most of the bike ride. We agreed that it's time to come volunteer next year.. so that's the plan.

I don't have any race photos yet, just another from pre-race and a bunch from after. Heading out to dinner the evening prior, we ran into Stefan, our swim coach, and Joe and Steve by the finish:

When Raul heard I had no salt he scrounged around and found me some. He rode out with it, but by the time he found me I had already scored a whole bag of salt stick pills off the queen K and was OK. So nice! Joe, on the left, told me I looked hot every time I ran by, which was also very nice.

Doug the Enigma Berner was here for this photo, but disappeared from the bar at some point.. vanished.
JQ, Suzanne, Traci & Keri, my Oahu girlfriends, flew over to watch the race. Here they are writing chalk notes to me on the run course. This is the view of the hot corner from our balcony.

Tim placed 15th pro in his first Kona.. 30 years after his dad did Ironman back when it was on Oahu. His wife, adorable Mariane, did her first ever and flew through it in 10:40.

The gang watching the final finishers from the bleachers:


Race photos to follow..

crap crap crap.

tomorrow i have to do something way too hard. to remind myself of why i signed up for this yet again, i went back and found last year's race report. since i was blogless back then, i thought i would repost it here.

also, my shift button fell off. i know there's another on this old crappy dell, but i cannot change my typing today.

i made the traditional last minute shoe-change to a killer pair of orange saucony fast twitches. the ft is my go-to shoe, the new silver zoots were rubbing just a little wrong.. so carrie at saucony set me up. how could i turn down orange? <-- found the shift.

two photos from today first: the morning swim. tiffany is the sherpa-neuroscientist extraordinaire here from toronto. katherine is wide awake and ready to roll. and i am still half asleep.. but can't ever resist an opp to show off a cute splish.

i woke up half an hour later, by the time i ran into the three lieto boys at breakfast; matt, chris & kaden.


and to remind myself that tomorrow will be fun (when the bike is over).. last year's long report, as written for the timex blog;

Someday when I am old and fat and slow you will wonder to yourself -Why the hell is Rachel Ross still on the Timex Multisport Team?- so I’ll clue you in now: it’s the pictures I took of our team management at Kona.

Ever had a fever that made you totally delirious? Apparently I tried to swap bikes with Joe Boeness at the bike drop off on Friday afternoon. I have no recollection of this, but Joe doesn’t lie. I slept/hallucinated the rest of Friday away, and woke up ready to go on race day, after my horse-pill sized ibuprofen to get the fever down. I had my pre-race cry (thank you ironmanlive for catching that on film and replaying it for all at the awards ceremony) and got my sorry butt into the water just in time for the cannon. I decided to line up in the front and let the people who actually know how to swim go over me until I found some feet. It was a little painful, but it bought me a six minutes swim PR, so it was worth all the panicked underwater screaming. Swim: 1:03:50.

I rolled over some duct tape in T1 so I got to listen to it flap for 112 miles against my brakes. It was kind of like that water-drop torture you hear about. It was melted on by the end and is now part of my race wheel. April and I passed each other back and forth for the first 30 miles or so, and yelled back at men making inappropriate comments about body parts they shouldn’t be that close to if riding legally. Shortly after Hawi, my eyeballs started to burn in my head again. I reached for the Tylenol to kill the fever and dropped it – and smartly decided to go on. By Waikoloa I was on fire. Not in a good way. I knew the fever was back and it was high. My thinking was cloudy and I was having funky daydreams. So I sat up and spun it in slowly, dreaming of the 800 mg ibuprofen in my T2 bag. It was hard to watch my goal bike split go by, but I managed to get in with time of 5:28:46.

I started the run and saw the family immediately. My training buddy Wil screamed “you have to run 3:23 or better to break 10 – you can do it!” He later told me “I didn’t think you could do it, you looked like crap.” Thanks, dude. I, on the other hand, had planned on running 7:30s the whole way and breaking 3:20, so I actually did think I could do it. I found a Big Island friend and ran down the first of two girls in my AG that were ahead, chatting all the way. Jeff dropped off, so I ran the second 5 mi back to town with Fernanda Keller, who was not feeling very chatty but was a pleasant companion none the less and steady with her 7:30s. I caught the other girl in my AG on the way back to town. Up Palani was more of a party than a run, I saw my kids, my parents, my Oahu friends, and Macca coming down the hill for the win. Sharpie screamed that she loved me, totally making some nearby perv’s day. The pace was pleasant and I made small talk along the road, even though I swore I’d shut up and run this year. Out at the energy lab I saw my superstar friend Bree Wee ahead in the first amateur position (fortunately for me the girl’s a baby and still in the 25-29 AG) and knew I was the next one behind her. I love the energy lab. It’s beautiful and truly the beginning of the end. Lots of people were puking - apparently they don’t love the energy lab. I tried to pick it up for the last 10K home, but it seems holding 7:30s had become my max. I rolled down Palani and onto Alii fairly confident that sub-10 was in the bag. There is nothing like turning onto Alii and seeing that arch. Though it really should be closer to the actual timing mat.. My marathon split was 3:18:45, for a finish time of 9:56:21.

Wednesday in Kona..

Yes, that is Ironman perfume. No, it does not smell like B.O., although that would be appropriate. It was in the goody bag. Along with 6 conifers worth of paper. The Ironman folks are not at all concerned with that whole deforestation/global warming thing, based on the contents of the goody bag:

The 8:30 am flight to Kona was stacked with Boca-ites, with Yamamoto-san, K & I and Olympic-trial swimmer Flanagan all jumping on board the 40 minute flight. Flanagan ran a marathon once in prep for his first Ironman - in 2:50. You will hear his name when the first amateur comes out of the ocean on Saturday morning.

Team Timex mechanic extraordinaire Doug set up my bike for me. And found himself a present stashed in the fancy cardboard box. We surfed the Sunday after Kona last year and I hear board shorts are hard to come by in Wisconsin. I came back half way through to find my poor naked bike with no crank, fork, wheels, seat.. apparently something got lost in the frame. She's all set now, and Alex M-M even knew how to fix my powertap. It's sad, but I am no longer Chris Lieto.

It's go go go when you arrive this late. The first stop was the Zoot tent at Huggo's for my race shoes. The 09 ultras are silver and I love them! And while I was there I got to meet Kristin of Betty Designs, who designed my race suit for Kona. Which I hear will be arriving tomorrow.. Kristin and I have similar taste in sunglasses:

David Goggins was at the expo. It'll be his first Ironman. He does 100 milers, Badwater, and the Ultraman, so I asked if this would feel like a sprint. He said he doesn't know what sprinting is. He is worth googling - the man is incredible. And somehow The Sergio always ends up in my hottie photos.. what a coincidence.

After the panel at the expo, my bike was ready to roll and then it was off to registration, room check-in, and general running around like a chicken with no head. I met Tracy and Shawn and got my Nuun-addiction refueled. I had a powerbar for lunch. And another a few hours later. At some point Katherine put my room key in my hand. About 8 minutes later I realized it was gone. The Seaside uses real keys. Giant metal ones. Once I stuffed one down my swimsuit top for a long swim and lost it in the ocean, so I know all about the $50 key replacement fee. I went to visit my coach at the Lifesport Lounge, walked in and dumped out my bag. No key.

Check out my new shoes! And all the crap I carry in my purse. And my IT-band icing set up.

I went and searched the Boca bike shop. No key. I searched the registration area. No key. Then I remembered throwing away lunch's wrapper at Boca and sat down with the trash bin. I went through piece by piece, soggy napkin by chewed-gum nugget, and found the key at the bottom, inside a cardboard powerbar box. And then I washed my hands like Woody Allen.

Off to Lava for dinner and to find more friends.

Science of the Taper.

I found an eerie photo on the web. It's me, getting off the plane in Kona on Wednesday, which totally freaks me out because Wednesday hasn't happened yet.

I know I'm tapering correctly when my kneecaps disappear.

The key to the perfect taper is not sharpen, tune & recover, or any of that silly science mumbojumbo. The key is amusing oneself in order to prevent excess running. Or swimming, because I hear there are people who do that in excess for some reason. It is also important to not get fat, but I don't have any advice to give you on that one because I always just get fat.

Because it's likely Katherine and I are the last racers showing up in Kona, I am still at home on Oahu. I am somewhat unemployed (30h a week until a find something new.. but it's slow.) I am allowed to swim as much as I'd like, but only because as much as I like pretty much means never. So here are some of my methods of self-amusement this taper week:

Dress jet-lagged mom up like a democrat at 2 am Chicago time. At 100 lbs, she's an easy target, in spite of being freakishly strong. Send really, really republican dad photographic evidence:

Help Sky the evil cat decorator torture Sammy with jewelery:

Have a whose-shaggy-hair-is-longer contest with sister. Decide a photo finish is required because I am all hopped up on competitiveness. She wins. I accuse her of cheating. Turns out she's taller sitting down. How many people can say that?

Attempt to play dollhouse with Sky. Even though I suck at dollhouse. I just don't get it. I must get that from my mom, because she lasted about 5 minutes before she called me downstairs to negotiate the hostage crisis. I don't even want to know what happened to those poor guys in the quilted purple master bedroom. Trampled to death by my little pony? All I can say for sure is that things are not looking good for the Good Witch.

On Wednesday morning I am off to the Big Island. I can't promise I'll be a-blogging. The cat-decorator threw a toy tank through the screen of my powerbook. The fix costs as much as a new computer. And laid-off me cannot afford either. I don't think the 2001 Dell cpu/monitor are going to fit in my bike box, but you never know.. it's worth a try!