Put some back into it men!

The Tribe's recon mission that began with a low speed tumble out the side door of the mini van and a roll down a snow covered embankment, followed by an all out sprint into the neighborhood playground, had turned into a full on search and recovery operation.  The neighborhood Christmas party was Friday night and there were tokens from a treasure hunt to find.  Unfortunately, in the days following the hiding of the tokens, 6 inches of snow had fallen.  I joined in the mission with a shovel and proceeded to move .72 acres of snow by hand.  Eureka!  we found a silver ticket!  Only three to go.  But it was cold and it was Friday and The Tribe was tired, so one by one they left for home and hot chocolate, with the promise that if we uncover more treasure all who hunted will have a stake in the claim.  A promise is a promise, no matter how dubious the merit.  I, already being declared evil for falling into a state of chocolate madness and eating candy #7 from the advent calender (on day 4 nonetheless- I thought they'd never notice before I could replace it), am held in scrutiny as the prize for each silver ticket is a cupcake from one of the greatest bakeries known to man.  But alas, no more silver tickets as the early departure of  the sun left the search for another day.  Five cupcakes remain encrusted in snow, possibly until spring, or until chocolate madness besets my brain and I rent a bulldozer.

The annual Toys For Tots Christmas party was a success on all levels.   I departed from my lite beer restrictions and indulged in a splash of Bailey's, quite possibly the greatest liquor known to Trimama. I figured I had negative calories in the bank following the treasure hunt.  We met the new neighbors, a single mom with  5 kids at home and 3 that have moved on.  New companions for The Tribe at the park.  The average age at the party was in the vicinity of 82, not including The Tribe, but including a young couple from up the block and recent Jeopardy champion.    

Best news of all, no surgery.  Turns out Trimama scars easily.  One look at my Grand Central Station stomach and anyone could have told you that.  Scarring worked to my advantage here, as any part of the ACL that  tore away was now held in place by... that's right scar tissue.  Good news/bad news.  The scar tissue is what makes the rehab so tedious and painful, have to break it down.  I've dealt with scar tissue all my life, so I see it as a challenge.  Turns out I also bruised my femur and cracked the head of my tibia, all which are healing fine, but will no doubt lead to arthritis down the road.  "And there is nothing you can do about that" assured the doc.  So, the rehab continues.  I am done with the cross trainer.  Ugh.  Back to the treadmill and the track, but I actually managed a 10 min mile on the treadmill, so improvement is on the horizon.  I am a cardiovascular mess.  But, I've been here at least four times before, following the advent of The Tribe, I know how to come back.  

Added incentive, while we were stripping at Florida, I managed to recover a pro swim cap from the sand.  I presumed that wasn't worthy of "lost and found"  and ferreted it home.  Visions of Bella or Chrissy swirled in my head, but it was not to be.  Turns out the cap belonged to a Dutch pro who turned in a personal best 11:37 at Florida.  A pro who's just like you and me.  Sort of.  Inspiring all the same, as I train to swim like a pro for Arizona.  Which explains why the swim instructor at the Y was amazed when I informed him I had only recently dropped into the pool, in spite of his insistence that I had been swimming for "someone"- as in team- for some time.  He said I had great form.  I swooned right there on the deck.  Not really, but I did take it to heart until Tac pointed out that the guy probably just thought I was cute and wanted to ask me out.  Jealousy is so ugly.

My rehab includes a lot of water jogging, so Tac and I bought each other an otter box with waterproof earphones.  Yea.  Imagine the mystery when an otterbox showed up for the iphone.  So, I got an otterbox, an otterbox and ear phones for Christmas.  Go figure.  The box fits a shuffle, which is great.  My shuffle is programmed the Trimama way and then some.  There might need to be another shuffle under the tree because as they say, "I'm a little bit country, he's a little bit really off the wall and behind the corner rock and roll".  The Bird and the Bee, who comes up with this stuff?

We've also reinstituted the advent family gift tradition.  Instead of making Christmas day a mass spectacle of presents, we extend the holiday to include the four Sundays of Advent.  Each Sunday a family present is unveiled.  So far, Dance Dance Revolution for the Wii, a must for every holiday party, well except the neighborhood one, and a state of the art ice cream maker.  Tac and the Tribe have been busy challenging Ben and Jerry for superiority rights.  I am not an ice cream eater so the diet remains intact for now.  Did I mention the machine can make margaritas?  One more item to pack for IMCdA.  

Speaking of which.  I'm in the process of securing clients and therefore vacation budgets for 2008.  I sincerely hope there are motivated weight loss folks in January as  I will be unrolling a new program the end of this month.  Who wouldn't want to be trained by a PT, Dietitian and Ironman Triathlete to get in shape and lose weight?  We'll see.  

So that's a wrap, although I by no means meant to cross the picket line.

Train safe and train smart.