In the morning I'll hit the track for the second time this week. Nothing breaks me like the track. But nothing pays off like the track. A month of weekly speed workouts is usually all it takes to feel like I'm running like me. But I must be held accountable, or I cheat the intervals down. I'll build into this one like a warm up. I don't want to sweat on the cheerleaders. Three is practically six! Tomorrow morning Tanya and Joe are coming to keep me honest.
I'm not going to the inauguration. Barack will have to just struggle through it without me. I had inauguration tickets lined up, official inaugural ball tickets, a free house to stay in, and the miles to get there. But I forgot about the thing. The job thing. It turns out you have to accrue vacation before you can actually take it. Who knew?
Another thing I learned recently: my brother is not getting a PhD in egyptology. Not that I ever believed that was really a word. He says my mother has been spreading that rumor for years. And that he's an environmental historian. I can see how she got confused, he lived in Egypt for a while. And environmental and egyptian both start with the letter e.
I bike commuted four days this week, making for 6 rides in 7 days for me. And I almost went swimming on Tuesday, which makes me almost a triathlete, in my opinion. I was at the track by 5:30 am, then home in time to head into the Tuesday morning Kaimana swim with Stefan. Once there, I decided to shower and sit on my ass eating pancakes with my kids while Ramsey did the swim workout, because that sounded like more fun. Also my feet always cramp when I swim after a hard run. And I've got this streak going.. it'll be three months in about ten days, if I start swimming now that's practically giving up.
I documented the near swim. Wyatt and the pancakes:
And the group - if you open the photo, they're the little dots to the left side. I took the two photos seconds apart. Apparently the sun was rising quickly!
If you're considering private school for your child, please read this. Hell, read it if you're considering having children. Or if you never, ever want kids and just feel like laughing.
Funny article!
ReplyDeleteI have a love/hate relationship with the track..I'm like you, if there is no one there to keep me honest...I will make the workout what I want...
You should get out the "I will swim everyday/I love swimming" Splish suit. Maybe it will inspire you?
sweet. Now I know how to get Moana into a private school! :)
ReplyDeleteThe ocean is too cold to swim in right now anyway...
you have a goal and you should do whatever you can to reach it. no swimming for the next ten days..
ReplyDeleteGreat, now all I want to do is eat pancakes. :o)
ReplyDeleteOMG - that pancake looked positively fantastic. I would have tanked the swim for that thing as well! Hooray for the track - it hurts... but like you said, the accountability is there! Go Rach go!
ReplyDeleteThat article was hilarious and she honestly reminded me of you.....not because you always have a pair of dirty underwear in your pantleg (maybe you do) but her sense of humor and style of writing. Hilarious.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the good work. I'd be scared to be with you at the track, even if you were trying not to sweat.
P.
ps-the word verification to publish my comment for me today is "fater". hm
I don't understand weird, overly obsessive parents. I don't have kids so maybe that is why. But that was awesome, seems like the exact things I'd be thinking!
ReplyDeleteAwesome job at the track. And I agree, pancakes over swim any day!
I would go to Hawaii right now for that Pancake! Your last few posts have been hillarious!:) Keep enjoying everything.
ReplyDelete-marn
I feel ya - I've almost gone swimming a bunch of times in the last few weeks! I'm at an all time high of non-swims: almost 3 weeks! ;)
ReplyDeleteAs someone who taught in a K-8 school in Pac Heights in San Francisco, I found that Rumpus article to be way too true. Who is that mom? Is this your secret alias because she writes an awful lot like you. Her cynicism is just too damn funny.
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