River Lake

The summer house I’m staying at is on the Rappahanock River. Personally, I’ve never seen a river that looks like this so I have deemed this the river lake.

Somehow calling it the river lake makes swimming in it less scary. The word river makes me think of Deliverance, and we all know what that’s about, and then there are river monsters and I really don’t want my life to end by being eaten by a mysterious fish thing. So if it looks like a lake I’m calling it a lake.

Happy Memorial Day, people.

Summer, it’s good to see you

In honor of Memorial Day weekend I decided some vacation was in order, so Tracy packed up her car and offered to let me crash at her “little” river house.

Yeah, life is really hard. I had to participate in sitting on this a good portion of the day.

Now, I’m being forced to eat surf and turf for dinner. Cry for me because I plan to eat until I can’t breath.

Tri One, I’m Not Done

While I’m watching Dancing with the Stars, dreaming that I’m a professional dancer with killer legs and six-pack abs, being dragged around the dance floor by a hot man, let me tell you a little more about my first triathlon.

Yeah, sorry I didn’t choose a different path for my life, chances are the pictures on this blog would be more colorful and I’d look a little bit hotter than I do in this sweet wetsuit.

 Although, I gotta say, I’ve seen worse, like my hair when it’s humid. A wetsuit is like wearing a spanx bodysuit, it nips and tucks all the wobbly parts in and is frighteningly comfortable and cozy.  I didn’t know what I had been missing my whole life, how did I miss out on the wonderful world of neoprene.  I should have been cat woman for Halloween, every year since I came out of the womb.

Anyhow, this wetsuit and the back stroke is what helped get me through 750 meters of my swim.  It took me 16 minutes and 42 seconds to haul my body through the water, site the buoys, swim into a a buoy, bump into another swimmer, and get from one shore to the other.

As I cruised into the shore I began stripping off my wetsuit and moved into T1, aka transition one.

It took me a whopping 2 minutes and 42 seconds to get my wetsuit, swim cap and goggles off and get my socks, bike shoes, helmet and sunglasses on and to get to the mount line to get on my bike.

I barely remember running from the swim finish to T1 and don’t even ask me what happened prior to getting on the bike.  I remember seeing my bike helmet and debating between putting it on or taking off my wetsuit first, but other than that, all a blur.

It is not easy running in bike shoes and then you gotta get past the mount line to hop on the bike because trying to get on the bike at the mount line is no bueno since everyone and their mother is wadded up in one area.

The 18 mile bike took me 1 hour, 3 minutes, and 37 seconds.  This makes me mad because I could have pushed harder.

Granted my heart felt like it was going to blow out of my chest most of the ride, BUT I would have come in 3rd place novice if I could have made my legs move faster.

3rd place!!  I could have placed! WHAT!!!!

Dang bike! Stupid legs, shut up and go!

So, I got through the bike, and cruised to transition 2, aka T2.

It only took me 1 minute and 29 seconds to rack my bike, put on my running shoes and shoot out for my 5k.

(Do you see those glasses I’m wearing? Well I took them back, because I look like I’m going to space and while I can handle swimming, biking, and running in one event, I CAN’T handle looking like a spaceship laded on my face.)

I ran one of my best 5k times ever, 24 minutes 8 seconds.

I was blowing by people!

Running is my element, this was my leg, this is where I felt so strong and so happy to be on my feet.

Overall, I’m so pleased with my results.  I’ve got work to do on the swim and the bike and the transitions, but I’m excited to do the work.

My next race will be in August and I’ll have to swim 1500 meters (backstroke begone), bike 24 miles (can you say shapely quads) and run a 10k (holla!).

And if fitness isn’t my motivator, then this is.

I mean I can’t think of a better way to say good morning than having a man write on me at 7am.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mom, This Trialathon is for YOU

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

Well, Mom, I celebrated your special day the only way I knew you’d want me to, I ran my first triathlon.

Let me be clear to other readers, the title of this post does not contain a misspelled word. My mother calls triathlons: trial-athons.  I think she might be on to something.

While I was hauling my body through the lake I thought, “If my mother could push me out of her, then gosh darn it I can swim 750 meters.”

Here’s evidence of my happiness and jubilation for the swim.

Actually, this is evidence that I didn’t drown and was so happy to be out of the water I nearly peed myself.

Here’s your kid in a wetsuit.

I painted my toes for you.

This is me attempting to magically insert my body into the wetsuit.  If my face permanently froze like this would you still love me?

This is me at the finish, rejoicing in the fact that I made it, that you birthed me and that you gave me your gumption, your great sense of humor, your unwavering faith, your strong will, and your belief that dessert for lunch is just fine.

Mom, I love you with all of my heart and with all of my soul.  I’m so proud that you are my mother and if I could I’d hire a man to fly a plane pulling a banner that said so, but I can’t because I need to save that money for another trialathon.

Sending you more love than you can even imagine,

Your Kid

Everything in Threes

Okay, I just need to get this out in the universe.

1.  I ordered some triathlon gear but it will not be here in time for the race.

2.  Since said gear will not be here I ordered some other gear, which was totally cute online.  Red, black and white, with a houndstooth pattern, totally awesome.

3.  When I opened totally awesome tri gear and proceeded to put the shorts and top on, the red became pink and the black became grey.  You see where I’m going, right?  These aren’t hyper-colored clothes, these are clothes that were getting stretched to their max.  I kind of looked like the casing of a sausage, busting at the seams!

4.  Commence traumatic episode numero uno.

5.  Please note, I am not a big girl and when my body had the ability  to morph solid colors into pastels, well this is cause for concern.

6.  Now I am back to square one with tri gear, meaning I have nothing to wear on race day.  Maybe swimming, biking and running naked will make me more aerodynamic, or the other competitors will run screaming in fear and I’ll sweep the race and claim all the race booty for myself!

7.  Commence traumatic episode numero dos.

8.  A friend was supposed to leave her wetsuit on her porch for me, before she went out of town.  Not long ago I departed from her house with no wetsuit in my hands.

9.  Commence traumatic episode numero tres.

10.  Luckily I have reserved a wetsuit for next week, however this doesn’t solve the problem for Sunday, when I’m supposed to get in an open/moving body of water.  (Luckily I had a plan B and a wetsuit has been rented and I will pick it up next week, before the race.  Reduction in traumatic episode numero tres, but not by much.)

11.  Tomorrow I will go forth and find triathlon gear.  If I do not find said gear you will hear a blood curling scream that will likely cause a crack in the earth.

12. Thank you for listening and good night.

 

 

 

Mixing It Up

I remember simpler times.

The times when I came home and cooked a meal, baked a cake, ate the entire cake all by myself,  went for a run, then fell into a sugar coma.

Times when I liked to spend money on food and kitchen equipment.

Times when I didn’t know about wetsuits, T1, T2, bricks, bike components, gears, down shifting, flip turns, goggles, helmets, tri shorts, tri suits, and open water swims.

Times when I couldn’t wait to get home because I was going to unleash the fury on my kitchen aid mixer and churn out a wicked cake, with some phat icing.

Boy, have times changed because now all I can think about is when will I get to leave work so I can get in the pool, how can I improve my stroke, how long will it take me to get my 1900 meters in, can I swim under a 2:00 on my 100 meters, do I have enough turnover when I’m pedaling, is this the right gear?

Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to check on my turkey breast, I’m trying to reconnect with my kitchen and the breast stroke doesn’t seem to work in this situation.

Tri-ing is hard

What, what, what was I thinking?

I must have had a psychotic break.

There must have been a crack in the earth because today, today I cannot for the life of me, tell you, why I ever thought training for a triathlon was a good idea.

Sure I was motivated by fitness, the possibility of six-pack abs, jiggle free thighs, and the ability to mow down pounds of chocolate, but the real motivation was knowing at the end I’d feel like a bad ass.   I mean come on, I plan on feeling like the queen of bad ass-ery (mom, dad, sorry about the language) after swimming, biking, and running in consecutive events.

So the tri meltdown started last night when I couldn’t get my tire pump to inflate my tires. I tried and tried and tried and tried to get the gauge  on my valve and every time I stuck it on it flew off after the first pump.  My tire was as flat as a flounder.  I felt like a total idiot. Who doesn’t know how to use a tire pump? This girl, right here.

The only thing that would calm me down: a few episodes of the Gilmore Girls .

Exhaustion set in and I headed for bed, only to wake with the terror of knowing I had flat tires and I needed cash. CASH!  I didn’t have time to go to the ATM last night because I was too busy attempting to INFLATE MY TIRES!!!

So, now I’m freaked out about my tires, being cashless and having to get to my swim/bike/run destination.

I’m sweating and my stomach is churning and all I can think is: Holy Lord, it’s going to be twice as bad on the day of the actual race. Quit, quit while you’re ahead and briefly enjoyed all of this!

I frantically text my friend Brigid to make sure she’ll be there with a working pump, while also schlepping the 100 pieces of equipment needed for this mess to my car.

Brigid gives me two thumbs up on the pump, while probably wondering what kind of a dope doesn’t know how to inflate her own tires.

Car is loaded, I’ve made it to an ATM, cash is in had, my foot is on the gas, and I’m off!

I arrive 30 minutes early to my destination.  Why am I such a freak?

Now my coach has us by the lake, talking to us about the open water swim. Yes, you read it right: OPEN WATER SWIM. As in I freely volunteer to get in an open body of water, in May, when it could be 50 degrees or 100 degrees, who the heck knows, but chances are the water will be cold.

Yes, I am a genius.

All I can think about is how cold my face, hands, and feet will be.  Then I begin to wonder what it will look like when I attempt this 750 meter mad dash to some buoy, then hurl my cold, frozen body on the shore and attempt to tear off my wetsuit and use my numb fingers and toes to work the bike.

SERENITY NOW!

Now I’m on the bike and it’s cold.  I still don’t know how to dress for biking in the cold and it is next to impossible to keep my feet warm with the wind whipping through these silly bike shoes.

At some point I lose the majority of the feeling in my toes, my quads are burning, I’m tired and depressed because it’s COLD!  Biking cold is double cold and it makes me mad, so all I can do is focus on the fact that I’ll be running soon and at least I’m good at that.

With lightening speed I get off the bike, tear off the helmet, gloves, pants, shoes, and jacket and toss on my running shoes and running hat.

I’m on the trail, it feels like I’m running on two frozen bricks.

I want to die. I say every curse word I can think of in my head.  I then begin to seriously question my sanity and consider asking some pedestrians if they will call Bellevue and have someone come and pick me up.

Run is done.

I am not dead.

I brought all of this on my own, crazy self.  It’s just like the time I ran a marathon. I said I’d never do another one.

Man, am I full of bright ideas.