I mean literally-my geek magnet is frozen to the back of my car. He looks cold. Maybe this geek thing is just for you people in warmer climes. My training brain seems to be hibernating right now, waiting for the storm of holiday season to pass.
Not training makes me feel like this. And it makes me want to chain smoke. I finally figured out that craving connection last night. Haven't touched the things, but they sure sound good. I bought "Going Long" which is a training manual for Ironman. Enjoyed it so far, but has me convinced that I will never be more than a m.o.p. largely because of the nutrition chapter. The author contends that the final step toward greatly improved status is to eat like a cave man. "Most energy should come from lean meats, fresh fruits and vegetables." No processed foods (no loss) and carbs only during intense workouts or races. On this out and back course of dust to dust I can see the turnaround point ahead and am more focused than ever to living life to it's fullest. I don't know any other cave men, so I think no carbs would greatly infringe on my pursuit of relationship. There is a whole post here, but suffice to say, I don't value the podium more than my abiity to share tea and cookies with my elderly neighbor. I imagine that one response to this might be, well you could visit and pass on the cookies. No for two reasons, that would be rude and hurtful, and I don't want to go through life explaining why I'm being rude and hurtful. This sport infringes on my life just enough right now, I don't mean to make an obsession of it. I eat a lot of whole grains, vegies, fruit etc and encourage my family in the same, but if I don't eat carbs I feel like this By the way, this is what Soapinator and Buck Naked did on their sick day. They both have asthma, both were getting behind on their battle of the bronchitis so both stayed home for a day of rest. The rest part didn't work out so well, but they had fun. Come to think of it, they both got better too.
For the record, Buck Naked wants a "real gun" for christmas. By "real gun" he means a starting gun and it factors into every current life pursuit. "Mom, do think I will get a real gun from Santa? Then Neighborboy and I can race when we sled." Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a decent cap gun? He decided he wanted a starting gun after he manned the finish line at Hyphen Girls track meet last spring. He has the whole start procedure down, he just needs a gun.
Rome wasn't built in a day.
It actually took four, and about forty bucks from the craft shop.
Some day 2000 years from now some mom is going to be cursing the existence of microwaves in antiquity.
Finally, the Adventure Girls say Merry Christmas!