I declare the war on global warming over-we won!

I began this year, (with Minnesota's coldest winter in recent history,) joking that this was God's Job-like response to Al Gore.

It's not funny anymore.

For Minneapolis, MN 55426

Temp
23.8°F

So Far Today
Lo: 21°FRain: 0.00"Hi: 25°FGust: NE 0
Wind Chill: 24°F

Your Forecast for Minneapolis, MN
Today
Hi: 55 °F Lo: 38 °F
Partly Cloudy... more
Wednesday
Hi: 63 °FLo: 47 °F
Partly Cloudy... more

I have yet to see a tulip or crocus and nary a leaf on a tree. Aaaaaaggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, I'm done.

Not much of a prelude to Happy Birthday to Me!

I turn 40 tomorrow. (long philosophical post to follow)

In honor of 40, I'll be doing

4000 yard swim (4 miles? You're freakin kidding me-my arms would pop out of their sockets)
40 mile bike
4 mile run.

Then I'm going to go watch HG play rugby and go to dinner, where in true Rugby fashion, I will drink 40 ounces of beer.

Finally,

where is Fe Lady? Her blog disappeared! A little help here?

When baby steps make you feel 10 feet tall

It's like learning to ride a bike....

Weeks of apprehension. Will I be able to bike again?
A morning of anxiety. I sincerely doubt my clients walked upright and pain free Tuesday as I put them through the workout I generally would do at this point, if not for them.
I shook as I prepped. If my knee fails, just how bad will it hurt.
I stood on the driveway for 5 minutes, maybe longer. Our driveway turns out onto a subtle, but climbable hill, and I'm not keen on zero mph crashes.
I rolled my bike to the top of the hill, knowing eventually I was going to have to suck it up and just do this. Maybe I should go back and switch out my cleats and pedals, I'm not so sure it's a good idea to do this maiden voyage on the new ones. Excuses. Just go.

And I went. Slowly at first, clipping out numerous times and stopping just to be sure I could do so in the oft time necessary instant.

And a funny thing happened on the way to mile 2. I remembered. All the miles, all the rides, all the times clipping in and out. And once you remember you know what happens, you soar. Rolling along I watched the final remains of winter breaking up in tiny chunks along the shore of Cedar Lake and I marveled at all of the stored potential of spring. So caught up in the moment was I that I missed the fact that I was standing in my pedals, until I sat back down. 6 weeks ago I couldn't stand.

18 miles of rolling pavement. In the grand scheme of things, baby steps, I know. But sometimes it's the baby steps that make you feel 10 feet tall.

Trimama is back!

In other news, I scoped a new client today-in the event all of Monday's folks quit on me. Nice gal, we got to talking tri's. Turns out she has a co worker who lives in Oregon who does tri s and as it happens also blogs. He had suggested she go to My Local Bike shop to check out a new road bike. Of course, I heard blog and my ears perked up. Who was this blogging Oregonian? and how did he know about My Local Bike shop? I questioned this potential client and tri training buddy.

Well he knows this guy named Taconite Boy who is all about Triathlon.

I busted out laughing.

Do I tell the big guy he is almost famous?

The pillow is calling, cheers to you all

Maybe worm poo is the answer to all things

It sure isn't spittle. Which brings us to,

The Question of the Week

You are at work, when you notice a person having difficulty working the new, "technically sophisticated" storage lockers. Being the fab, phenom employee that you are, you go to the assist; because life is more then wiping sweat and dust off of treadmills.

"Yes, mam, you have to close the locker before you lock it. That's it." Conversation ensues. But conversation doesn't matter as the only salient point is that spittle is flying. Everywhere. Um hm, I trained you. Yes, you should follow up with me.......eeeeee."

Spittle on the cheek? Ok. Spittle on the chin? Well a little precarious, but we are still ok. But then that flagrant, foul drop hits a perfect trajectory...and lands on your lip.

You:

A) Run screaming to the eye wash fountain in the janitor closet, only to be retarded mid stride by the recollection that the eyewash is merely that- water to wash the eyes. And this isn't your eye, this is your lip, which guards the orafice by which all things travel to and from your body. You opt for chugging bleach instead.

B) Grow up Trimama, you exchange bodily fluids with Tac Boy all the time.

C) But this isn't Tac Boy, where's the bleach?

D) Did you know that, like, 70% of dust we inhale and exhale every day is really skin cells that have sloughed off of other people?

E) I'm going permanent SARS mask from this point forward

F) How can this be coming from a woman who has wiped butts and noses for more then a decade?

G) Go ahead, fill in the blank


I saw in a documentary that worm poo is really great for growing marijuana....and other things. I'm not sure what "other" things are, but the guy from Princeton who invented worm poo is making a lot of money turning other folks garbage into fertilizer. Not a bad gig if you can get it.

Enough about poo, for I have sinned. Perhaps not mortal, but certainly grievous. What? Did I miss the latest download of The Tac Boy and Bigun show? No, worse. Leaving the feverish Tac (who happens to be an Ironman) at home, I bundled up (bundling because it is still so cold here that I switched my iphone weather gauge to celcius; somehow 1 degree here isn't quite so awful when it is only 28 in Tempe- so long as we are all freezing I'm good) The Tribe and departed for the local burger joint. For no odd reason, I donned my Ironman Finisher fleece. Now, in the Tac Boy/Trimama life of yin and yang, I am the IM recluse to Tac Boy's Schwag Whore. My tattoo remains hidden, and my schwag wear is limited, apparently to blustery days out with The Tribe. I sit my "single mom" arse down at the burger joint and proceed to dine with The Tribe. At some point in the evening, I catch a glimpse of the bright red "M" across the room. Just a simple white shirt, on a handsome, athlete, age grouper of a guy. Now we are easily within each other's eye shot. He could no more miss my "M" as I could miss his. And I knew, at some point it would happen. Our eyes would meet, a slight nod, and in typical Minnesota fashion, the subtle wave. We just acknowledge people in our clans up here. And we were in each other's 140.6 miles clan. You know it's coming. It's a sixth sense understanding. I glanced up, our eyes brushed in contact.....and I balked! I looked away! I denied this fellow athlete his due. At that one moment, feeling much more conscious of mama then Trimama, I felt sub iron. I felt that to put myself in this guys league was to defame the name and spirit of the athlete. I really need to get out more. Perhaps I really need to get out on my bike more. So, white shirt Ironman Guy at local burger joint, I'm sorry, really, truly sorry. Wave, wave. (was that second wave overkill?)

Ok, so I stopped by my local bike shop to pick up new cleats and shades. It's 65 wonderful degrees tomorrow and other then the fact that it is bloody tax day, I have no excuse for not getting my skittish, ridiculous self out on a bike tomorrow. Wish me luck, and if you encounter me on the trail, well, don't worry if I don't wave, I'll be white knuckling this maiden voyage of the new knee until it's done. I'm such a wuss.

I'm perplexed by the pickle thing...

As it lingers. But on to other things. 8 inches of snow are currently melting in torrents down the street. Question, what do you get when you take two really stressed out men, give them a microphone and a recording program? The Tac Boy and Bigun Show! All I know is that I got two stress calls from Tac at work, he passed on dinner, opting for a glass of wine and the next thing I knew he was down in the lower wing of the Tribe castle (read basement) laughing his backside off. Is that a good sign? You be the judge. I think the episode is due to release next Tuesday.

We spent the weekend up on Lake Gitcheegumee. Just saying the word makes me relax. I think every state should have a city like Duluth, where just by leaving your own air space and traveling there makes you feel relaxed. "We are far too easily amused" I mentioned to Tac, after realizing we had spent 15 or so minutes trying to drop rocks through the thin layer of ice on the canal. Flip the rock and it skittered along the surface, give it a good, crushing chuck, and it plunked through the ice and spiraled to the bottom. Clear, ice cold water. Into which we chucked several dozen rocks. Either exclaiming or sighing after each one. We are far too easily amused. I'm not bothered at all by that, HG, in "almost" 15 year old apathy has a different disposition. Ok, some new stores were our collective destination, so she didn't appreciate the detour quite as much. Not until we reached the stores and she realized the value of her younger siblings having exhausted their squirrely nature along the beach shore. Sometimes, but not very often, moms are wise.

We hiked around a state park on Saturday. The beavers were hard at work aaah potential.

Gotta run, Tac is waiting for some post run refreshment at the local pub. That must be Wildflower training