Full moon, shopping etc

Tridaddy is an amateur photographer (aren't we all to some degree or another) and he enjoys taking pictures of the moon.
Now if I can just get him to focus on the right one, I might actually get my "4 phases" photos that I want to frame for the living room. (did I say amatuer, or immature?)

If you think that's a little too racy, imagine my surprise when I clicked on my

Bolder site only to discover that while P. Dawg was away this summer some perverse little blogophile took over his original site. I kept his link in my sidebar to remember to pray for him and now he's back-with a new blog name. I'll make the changes asap. While I'm at it, I plan to add more links to my side bar-if you want a feature in the link field email me your site. It takes me about a day to do one when I have to cut and paste-since this paste has no taste, it's no fun.

Speaking of eating paste, my training yesterday had zero effect on an Ironman outcome, other than sheer mental endurance. Come along for the ride:

8:10 shuttle to E1 with Kid 2, 3-drop off
8:35 home-take care of K1 who is home with stomach flu. Haul wood, build fire, do dishes, fold 4 loads laundry and add to previous 12 loads, sweep floors, clean bathroom
10:35 feed K4, K1 still feels sick
11:00 shuttle K4 to E2-drop off
11:30 arrive back at E1 for recess duty. Temp 17, windchill minus 8. Windchill only counts when you're in the wind, short straw me, I walk the soccer field and woods, I get wind chill. We had ice, so body sliding across the infield is sport of choice.
1:15 return to car-can't feel my fingers, nose, or toes-isn't it January yet? A day wrapped in tinfoil on the equator sounds nice right now.
1:30 stop by home, check on K1 barf status-no barf, still sick
1:35 arrive back at E2 to help paint hand turkeys. What is a Thanksgiving without hand turkeys. Sorry craft did not entail paste, no snack today kids. However I did fianlly peg that detail that has itched at the back of my mind-that smell what is it? It's gas. Why do kindergarten rooms always smell post digestive? Social graces must be taught in first grade.
2:35 hands clean off to grocery store. If you buy 3 pre formed dinner rolls in a can you get a pound of butter free. We don't eat canned preformed dinner rolls, but grandpa shopper convinced me you can't pass up a free pound of butter. Rolls anyone?
3:10 return home-nurse K1 with gingerale, throw bags on kitchen floor
3:20 p/u K4 at bus stop
3:30 return to E1 p/u K2 and K3 plus friend
4:00 make a move rush hour driving-arrive in downtown, drop off friend K3 and K4
4:30 more make a move, travel with K2 to furniture store #12 to look yet again for chairs. Overturned crates are starting to appeal right now.
5:00 "If someone scares you 1/2 to death are you really dead?"
5:01 No, you're still 1/2 alive. You only die when you are scared to death.
5:05 Third grade philosophy lesson ends.
6:05 After working with super great leather sales person, encounter woeful "other" chair salesperson. Other salesperson is in midlife crisis with new puppy, new boyfriend, new home...................
6:20 Finally-she breathes. I need a new chair.
6:22 "I need a new chair too..................finances..........not meeting sales quotas..........
6:30 breaking back to helpful leather salesperson
7:30 Hallelujah! Hallelujah! (no disrespect intended towards Handel) Shopping finally accomplished!
7:45 Stop at wine store thankful there is a "q" in liquor or the alphabet game might have ended poorly. "V" vodka, "Z" zinfandel and we're out the door.
8:00 home at last.
8:10 the stale cookie at furniture store did not equate to satisfying dinner-stoke fire, make soft tacos, open wine
8:30 tuck K1,2,3,4 into bed
9:00 good night

Hibernating sucks!

My food compulsion has reached big fat squirrel proportions so I'm going Kashi. If you wnat to talk colon clensing and buttcamp Susan can direct you. Kashi GoLean has a rotor rooter like effect but only after it's hot air balloon effect. After about three days you are back to normal, and it normally curbs my hunger and I direct my eating more than my impulses direct my eating.

It is a frigid 19 degrees right now with 30-40 mph sustained gusts-Mn kids learn to factor windchill in preschool. We got a smattering of snow, an insult in the face of predicted 6-8 inches, but we got cold. It's suppose to warm up next week for Thanksgiving, just in time for the "run a 5K with 10,000 other people through the crowded streets of Minneapolis on Thanksgiving morning" run aka Arean 5k. This will be my 11th running of the Turkey and Hyphen Girl is going in and doing the race this year. I used to feel like a a 5k was license to stuff myself silly later in the day, now it's just a warm up. If I didn't have to make the turkey I'd be tempted to run into downtown, then do the race. If I got up at 5, I could do that. Now we're talking seconds!

I have recess duty today-I am going to die. I have almost no insulation left, I'm freezing all the time-time to paint on that permanant long underware-added incentive for poor Tridaddy to take me to Arizona in January-the promise of skin :)

Going downstairs to go dig out the snow pants, boots, mittens etc

Baby on board

No, no, no, I'm not pregnant-we've been through that already, don't need to go there again. It's just that all this excitement about t-shirts for
training and Iron inspiration tripped my brain over to those t-shirts that pregnant woman wear-baby with a large arrow pointing to their stomach. I like the male version better: "Beer" with a large arrow pointing to their stomach. At any rate, for the love of google, I entered b.o.b. into the search engine and was instantly directed to a web store featuring a wide array of b.o.b. wear. Fear not oh buxom male friends, there is a "baby on board" t-shirt for you, which begs the question, did the site designers pay any attention at all to the slogan they were plastering on every soft piece of merchandise they were selling? Given this one, I tend to think not. Although I could see some frat boy having a great time at a party sporting these. Perhaps not. I suppose if you are on a quest for a one nighter it's better not to advertise consequence on your shorts. My suspicion of ineptitude was confirmed by this final offering:
A thong!?! They expect a pregnant woman to wear a thong? Then I was reminded of the humor that got me to b.o.b in the first place. Wil has a shirt with "The Top 10 Reasons I Tri" and it made me want a b.o.b shirt with a top 10 reasons I'm "bob-ing"

10) The vikes were losing 42-3 at half time

9) Birth control in Wisconsin? Fishing/bow/firearm/duck, opener. Which explains the lack thereof within a 50 mile radius of that little cabin in the woods.

8) Antibiotics v BC = blue dot on the ept

7) Valentine's day

So, you get the picture, and for some reason this just made me laugh. I suspect my brain was still frozen from the run. I really need to get some UnderArmor.

7 strong miles. The kind that make you glad to be a runner. Today is a staff meeting at work, so it's a swim day as well.

Have a good one,

biking and on

Friday was a beautiful 65 degrees so I had to get out and bike-how great to be outside biking on Nov 11th. If you don't live in a cold weather state this makes no sense-there is a forecast for 5-7 inches of snow tomorrow so the rest of the season will be spin city (wasn't that a television show at some point)

I urge my fellow athletes to check out this site. There is a couple of great articles on training in the offseason. I'm realizing I don't want to spend a lot of mental energy to train right now, I'm basically keeping consistent, lifting weights as often as I can and not getting too worried about anything but the basics. I have a year to be intense, I just think it might get old or difficult to stay at a race training intensity for that long. I have my plan in place and it doesn't call for major "oh my gosh" training until late April. I have some parameters and goals to keep me honest, Chang's Marathon for instance, so I won't be going back to ground zero by any means. My plan is to keep up my endurance but to build a lot of strength in this off season. Did you happen to see the muscle mass and balance of Sarah R-the one legged Ironman from Kona. Having muscle envy right now. This picture doesn't do justice to the live images from Saturday's airing of Kona. I want to be a strong, steady athlete. That is the goal, and on that note, I need to go out and run for an hour. It's cold here-I don't really want to go, ask me again in 20 minutes when I've warmed up :)

I need a run, school conferences are tonight.

Lara Croft?!?!?

I didFlatman's super hero quiz. I'm Lara Croft? I haven't read the comic nor seen the movie, so I have some homework before I comment. Maybe I'm hung up on the Angelina Jolie aspect. Although, she has adopted 2 kids which puts her far above the rest of Hollywood in my book. The funniest question in the quiz was the one about liking tight fitting outfits. Can you tri and not like skin tight?


Vertical Man has me second guessing this a little (read down a few posts to his 10K race report) I had no idea my booty could be a carrot-albeit it would have to be a very hungry mule- see now I want to say ...hungry mule or ass. But I've come to realize a man is not an ass for looking (I say in tribute to finally growing out of my youthful 20 year old college feminist thinking), any more than a man is a tyrant for holding a door open for me. My goodness that education was destructive.

I'm going to stop for now, because on one hand a humourous post about guidelines for carrots is developing in my head, along the lines of tight fitting pink spandex, and on the other hand my philosophical, Lara Croft, brain needs to be quick to listen and slow to speak and slower to write about things I haven't thought through first.

Thinking.....thinking.....

I need to get me some colon cleansing

You have about 15 pounds of rotting waste in your colon. If you got rid of that you could race faster.

It was health fair day at work again. This time we set up camp next to the Chiropractors. I'm a sucker for a massage, so I wandered over. The doc I talked with had recently returned from a spa in Thailand with the sole intent of some colon cleansing. Now forgive me if I was laughing hysterically on the inside, couldn't shake the image of Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor. I'm all for exotic locales, but 7 days of self administered enemas so as to detoxify my colon, I don't think so. Isn't that why god made fiber? I've been looking for a good chiro for trihubby, so I inquired into his expertise in sports medicine. He assured me he had abundant knowledge and had recently treated a number of marathoners. "You just need to be thoughtful when you go out and run 24 miles from ground zero in your late 20's" Nice guess (I think gently). I'm 37 and a marathon is 26.2. I'm not a running snob, but I do expect a self proclaimed expert to know the basics. They packed up and left early so I never got my chair massage. I had to recruit Standing Long Jump to roll my neck. I bribe him with a "get out of jail free" card. It allows him a pass on any job I ask him to do. Hyphen Girl was beaning me with cheerios the entire time. I guess that counts for exfoliation treatment. Who needs Thailand?

Now on to the delicate question. I've been loading up the hours on the bike and let's just say that makes for some agony in the swimsuit region. What is "butt butter" and is it a cousin to udder balm? Does it work? I am also on the standard issue bike seat, would my gel seat feel better and irritate less?

And the not so delicate question: how can I compute my distance travelled on the trainer? I'm on a Cyclops fluid trainer with no built in mechanism to measure. Does it work to put the bike computer on the back tire, or is there a thing to buy to attach? I'm just doing time right now, but I am curious how fast and far I'm traveling. Thanks.

Sorry, I like global warming

I mowed the lawn in a short sleeve shirt today. Got the rest of the leaves raked and the last of the fertilizer down as well. Tomorrow, I bike. How often do we get to say that the first week of November in Minnesota? My new training program includes a M,W, F swim. It's not a good sign when you miss the first swim of a new training program. I should know better than to implement a new program on a "no school" day which also corresponds with tri hubby's final vacation day and final day of reinventing the basement. Our basement has been a sort of catch everything that is thrown to the bottom of the stairs container since we moved into this house almost 8 years ago. The prior occupant had painted the walls and thrown down some cheap carpet so as to call it "finished" for the sale. He neglected to mention that there were no functioning lights in the "finished" area. One outlet exploded when we plugged a fan into it. So, you might say the wiring needed to be updated. We hauled everything out, stripped er to the bones, re wired, trimmed the new egress windows and gave her a fresh coat of paint. All that's left is to lay the wood flooring. Tri hubby has become quite handy around the house over the years. He's had to because I just keep knocking holes into things. When we first moved in the bathroom was whorehouse ugly. My imagination was not helped with the knowledge that the prior owner had rented the place to prostitutes and crack pushers. So, a month after buying the place tri hubby returned home on a Saturday morning to find the walls of the bathroom on the back lawn. He wasn't very happy. Particularly because he wanted to take a shower. It also didn't help that behind the moulded shower insert I discovered a perfect frame for a window. "We can't have a window in the shower" We can have a glass block window. "We don't know how to install glass block" I know how to do it. At that point it didn't seem like such a good idea to tell him my knowledge consisted of watching my neighbor lay a brick fireplace threshold. Window, threshold, it's just brick and mortar-we can do it. Off to Home Depot-you can fix it, we can help. Well they weren't there at 2 in the morning when the final brick was set in place, but the window is still there. Yea me. So, over the years I make holes and he fixes them. Tri hubby likes wiring. We tore out the false ceiling and left the beams exposed. They look really great painted and give several inches of height to the room. He wired cans into the rafters. I'm not sure if it's overkill, meaning the number of cans installed, but the floor above now vibrates like a nuclear reactor when the lights are on downstairs. Dimmer switches are good. The two greatest things about the new great room: "kids go play downstairs" and a designated training area. I'll post pics of the bike and trainer later.

The boys have been having a great time helping dad, Buck Naked Boy in particular. Yesterday he was having fight #1,817,324 with brother so Trihubby called him over to talk to him. Do you want to go work in the basement? This was meant as a threat of punishment. Yea!!!! All excitement and jumps. I guess that didn't work.

I noticed a cluster of small red dots on Standing Long Jump yesterday, right at his waistline. I've had those before from when I demo'd all of the windows. It has the appearance of a spider getting trapped and biting a half dozen times in an effort to escape. We figure he got them working downstairs. We've always had a lot of spiders in the basement. They lay these little white egg sacks, and we discovered dozens of them when we pulled the rafters down. Out comes the shop vac and now the arachnids are plotting our destruction from the confines of dust and worksite debris. "I can see how SLJ got the spider bite" Trihubby informs me. "There were all those spiders and nests, the spiders are gone now, they must have migrated upstairs" Which explains why it's 3 in the morning and I can't sleep. I knew I should never have watched Aracniphobia.


Link

No buyers remorse

IMFL '06 sold out in less than 3 hours. My morning began at 4 am with a terrible dream whereby I couldn't get my computer to work and I couldn't find the registration page. While I'm remarkably low key about the race (read confident, not unenthusiastic) my dreams bear out the thing I fear most-not getting a chance to dance at all. As I've mentioned, I missed the two biggest sporting events in my life by circumstance and stubborness. Not this one. I registered at 9:03 cst. I paused long enough to read the tome of a waiver-humourous writing at times- and cruise controlled through the quesions. No second thoughts.

Until I got on the treadmill for my first official "in training" workout. Then my mind began to review the questions I'd answered.

Occupation: Homemaker, domestic diva, stay at home mom, however you break it down, average. Who the hell am I to think I should even think about trying an Ironman? (Well, with the kids in school I do probably have more time than any of you to train, at least through the school year-next summer is a different story)

Significant triathlon accomplishments: Who the f*$@ing hell do I think I am signing up for an ironman? I've completed a grand total of 3 sprints and 1 almost olympic distance tri for a grand cumulative total of 6:24 of competition.

Insert string of expletives that commercial grade bleach could not clean from the walls of my mouth.

So, I cranked the 'mill to 6:18 m/miles and let this thinking run it's course. I despise swearing. I loathe the f word. Not in the puritan sense where I cringe around others who swear. I despise the swearing that cascades from my own brain. When I swear, it's not me. It's my s.o.b. of an old man who considered me a cheap f@*#ing whore and went to great pains to prove his point. He hated me and would consider it a crowning achievement to kill me, god knows he tried on more occasions than my memory banks can store.

Have you overcome any significant hurdles to prepare for this event? Hell yes. or Hell. yes.

There are days I struggle to understand why I'm still alive. (my kids, hubby and friends notwithstanding-this is internal me)

Not on race days. On race days I feel absolutely alive.

If a sprint can do that for a person, what an amazing gift an Ironman might be.

A gift from a Father who is I Am, who took over from the one who was not.

Erik Liddel was a Scot, an incredibly principled man, an amazing runner and a missionary. "Chariots of Fire" told his story of Olympic glory. The best line in the movie is when he is explaining his motivation to run to his sister who was indignant that he would allow running to intefer with his work at the mission in China. "God created me to run, and when I run, I feel his pleasure." To feel that pleasure is priceless. 140.6 miles of priceless. So, I'm going to name my new tri bike "Liddle Dream"

Dream big my friends, the team's going to Florida!!

The world is right....

"I have a brain and I know how to use it. I can tell on you, you know."

A bold stroke in playground parlance.

"Whatever."

A dashing blow by le femme fatal and our young knight's ego lays in tattered ruin, scattering with the leaves of fall.

There is something right in the world when you are called to recess duty on the 2nd of November and the temps hover just shy of 70. Recess is considered a short straw duty by many, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. The tribe has one of the single greatest playgrounds I've ever experienced. Buffeted by an acre of brush cleared woods, a large soccer field, black top for four square (the most complicated game yet created by young minds) and a public- park like play structure, it is a wonderful place to "do recess"

Round one is 4th and 5th grade and I was assigned to football. What began as a rough and tumble game between two teams of fourth grade boys soon gave way to a melee of fourth vs fifth grade. The likelihood of a completion was Packerish, so it was a low scoring game. The whistle blew and the scrum knocked and pushed and panted it's way back toward the building with the fear of god, aka The principle (a good guy but not one you want to discuss tardiness with).

Round two is second and third. The tribe are represented in each so there were lot's of hugs. A favorite pasttime is fort building in the woods. The future architects and interior designers are among this group.

I have the remote! bellowed one second grader, dragging a door like slab across the turf. I guess the future coach potatoes have to start somewhere. He was headed to the male crisis center, an elaborate configuration of branches and logs and no girls allowed.

Enter le femme. The answer to the male crisis center is the pteradactyl nest peopled with screeching amazons. They've outfitted their pile of leaves with beds, kitchens, cells and pets and boys are not allowed. Well, like the amazon women of old, one boy, the biggest, and dare I say most futile in thinking boy, is servant guardian. I discovered this when I suggested the two boys wrestling in the girls nest should return to the crisis center and le femme informed me that he is their protector. He could stay but the other little boy was banished.

"I have a brain and I know how to use it."

He just couldn't figure out how to gain access to the hen fest. Poor guy.

Had a wonderful 32 mile ride today. Hardly fazed by the drop in temp as a cold front moved in, was that a snow flake? I can tell the time in the trainer is paying off. I've made 1,423,554 dollars watching the World Series of Poker. I could quit my day job, but then who would cover recess?

Busy as a mummy mommy

My computer is down again, yes the G5 monster is in the shop for the second time in 5 months. Apparently there is too much computer and not enough space so it doesn't cool itself down well. (I see that at the Y all the time-it's ugly)

Yesterday was a busy day with Fall parties at school. I was mummified in rolls of toilet paper in Buck Naked Boy's kindergarten class. The room mom would make Martha cry in jealous anguish with her personalized napkin iron ons (yes, she ironed napkins) and individually embossed name tags and treat bags. The coordination of tablecloths and room decor was lost on the kids but the moms were impressed. I was curious. Then dad came to pick up Martha's son and the ensuing scene was heart breaking. Son cried with increasing angst as dad gathered his things to go. Mom consoled son with "I'll see you Thursday" . I was cleaning up as they discussed the four different homes son would be living in that week. He just wanted to go home with his mom. He probably wanted his dad there as well, but that would be too much to ask.

"I hate when his dad picks him up when I'm home, he always cries."

Son is five, of course he cries.

"He'll grow out of it"

He wants to be with his parents, do you want him to grow out of that?

I read somewhere that God hates divorce, I can see why.




the Kahuna decided he didn't want to be a Ricky Williams (he left the Dolphins, who had devised an entire offense around his running, the week before training camp last year. ) I spent some time at other sites and was glad to see the team hung together. I certainly contemplated what my training would look like without a team, and it was ugly. What I learned as I wandered is that the lines were still in the trench, the receivers were ready to go and the plays would still be called. We'd just need to be creative without our running back.

Iron Wil has a great post today, to that end.

Hope the G5 is back tomorrow so I can post pictures. I let a little girl in the class play photographer for the day. A party through the eyes of a child. Have a good one.

Working for the weekend

And this kids, is how we make beer! No wonder the teachers can't wait for Fridays. Although I'm not so sure I would want to drink anything brewed up in a third grade classroom, maybe this was just a pouring lesson. :) Btw, if the glass in the picture doesn't look like a frosty mug to you, pour a few back, it will eventually.

This is a serious taper week for the big event next weekend. So, my blogging might get a little spotty as I rest my index finger.

Tridaddy and I were going to vacation in PCB next weekend, volunteer for the Ironman race and sign up in person. How cool would that have been? But the 21 day advanced purchase window closed before we were able to commit to going and the cost more than doubled. Is it considered mortal if you cut out of the middle of church to send a registration online? My attention might be a little distracted until it's complete anyhow, so there is probably enough grace to cover me.

It's big ride weekend, enjoy yours!

Bicycle built for 2 or 3 or 6...

I am convinced those word verifications are actually swearing in a different language. Some programmer is laughing hysterically right now.

"Implatzz" that car cut me off!

We have the promise of 65 degrees for these last few days of October. It's a good Fall when we can still bike outside until November. Among my scheduled events for 2006 is a half iron in June. I want to get in one ride of the loop before winter so that I can carry it in my head through the hours of winter spinning. I saw an ad for a tri on Catalina island next weekend. How romantic. One item of note, if you don't have a bike there is a rental store on the island. They only rent mountain bikes (aarrgghh!! never again) but they also have tandems. How fun a race would that be, all tandems. You swim, bike and run together. A new twist on a relay. I wouldn't go so far as a "3 legged" 5K, so let's just say you have to tandem bike and you have to cross the line with your partner. Who would you partner with? Of course Kahuna would take Mad Mel (she could carry him-literally-if he slacked-not that he would ever slack) There are a few male tri hotties, but I'm a happily married woman. I would like to stay happily married so there is little to no chance I'd tandem with tridaddy in a race. That might be somewhat akin to pairing Robostu (the machine) with Iron Wil (the incredibly tenacious firecracker), no on second thought they'd smoke the field on heart alone.

I know, surprise to all, tridaddy and I are both bull headed (all endurance athletes are to some degree or another) Last summer we rented one of those bike buggy things that you can load six or so people into and peddle along a tourist area. With the tribe on board we set out to see Canal Park in Duluth. I'm convinced these buggies were designed by a marriage shrink because they installed two steering wheels but only one engages the steering mechanism. Your options as a passenger are to either sit passively and enjoy the scenery, hands off the faux wheel, or you can spend the entire ride like a moron trying to direct the buggy by spinning madly and impulsively at your wheel.
I chose the latter option, only in part because tridaddy inferred the term "buggy" implied off-road vehicle meant to slalom around pedestrians and jump curbs (all to the elated giggles and delight of the tribe) and in part because it is difficult for me even after 15 years of marriage to abdicate directional control. I have triathlon to thank for helping me in that regard, turns out Tridaddy is a pretty good coach. (He's a pretty decent couch too, -thanks spell check- but that's a whole other post :)

One final note-if you haven't already, take swim lessons and correct your form. I've been able to drop my 50 pr from 52 to 40 seconds (not that I could sustain that beyond a 50) but that has to extrapolate well over hundreds of yards all the same. I was plaining through the water quite flat, a few adjustments got me sideways like a fish and dang if that doesn't work better.

Two cents and two dead.

Flatman has a post which allows you to calculate the value of your blog. Mine is worth two cents, at least that's what I'm giving you each time I write. Actually the test said it was worth $14,XXX, I'm guessing anything with the word tri in it is money in the bank at some point in time.

With that said, I need a logo, a patent and people, I want to have people.

Nobody will want to be my "people" when I relay the worst part of my day. I squashed a squirrel under my tire today. That makes 2 in 2 months. They are either getting slower or I'm getting faster. Both incidents were caused by the squirrel coming out of no where, and not turning back. They've always turned back before. Maybe they've been watching too much Fear Factor. Note to squirrel: the 2000 pound mini van doesn't swerve, it's not personal, it's physics. There is nothing quite as sickening in sound as that of the life being taken from an animal. I've never hit anything with my car before, and if I never hit another animal in my lifetime that would be fine too. Of course, we could all stop swerving. I think they don't turn back because they expect us to swerve. Not swerving throws the timing off. You all need to stop swerving so they can get their timing back.

We watched "The Day After Tomorrow" the other night, because nothing else is going on in the world and it seemed like a good primer for wall to wall hurricane coverage. Cool special effects, decent writing, silly science. Reaffirmed my primary contention in life; if it's all coming down, let me and my family be at ground zero. I know where I'm going, I'll be happy to get there and I see no reason to stick around for the ugly stuff. Yes I'm a wimp. If I'm asked to stay, I'll give what I've got to take care of my family and others around me and we'd survive. I guess being in your 30's with good health allows you to be afraid of having to contemplate your own death. I don't like to have to think about dying when I am busy living. That changes radically with things like cancer and other terminal illness. With those challenges you struggle to hold to the preciousness of life, it's your main weapon in the arsenal against despair. You take each day as a gift you can share with the people around you. I want to live everyday that way. I fail. Often.

This coming Friday we will celebrate life and commemorate death.

Tridaddy's dad, the second greatest man in my life, turns 80-may he live to be 100. The day he dies will be one of the saddest in my life.

One year ago Friday a young man who worked for Tridaddy and who we'd known for 18 or so years (most of his life) took his 50 caliber and ended his life. The very tragedy of suicide is that the person who takes their life never sees the several hundred people who gather at their grave and weep. They never hear the eulogies which exude love and hope for the person who died. Johnny was a college graduate, a licensed pilot, an accomplished guitarist, a college football player, a skilled worker, had a great personality and a warm smile and he had seemingly incurable depression. The hole he left in our lives still hurts, still echoes with why and still wishes we could go back to Oct 27th. If you are a praying person, light a candle for Johnny's family, they could use a little extra light this week.

Pretzel anyone?

Nancy posted a warning for boaters and referenced "The Perfect Storm" for the east coast. That was a storm of historic proportions (if you haven't read the book I reccomend it-just not in flight from DC to MN in turbulance) where an early Nor' Easter danced with a Florida hurricane and produced at least 100 foot waves and 120-150 mph winds. The same low pressure that created "The Perfect Storm" made a layover in MN bringing a Halloween Blizzard which dumped 24 inches of snow in 24 hours. The state shut down. Should I drag out the snow shovels? On the bright side I hear shoveling snow is great core work out.

Which is good because my carb cravings have switched from chocolate cake to cookies. What is going on? I doubt even Susan could help me now. Madonna, Susan, Richard, they don't retire, they just repackage-like Twinkies. Hmmm,Twinkies.

Stop, must stop.

Gopher, Issac and the gang managed a last second win today over the Cheeseheads, and that made for a great 75 minute spin on the trainer. The biking, not the game. We were cheering for Favre, anything to lose Tice et al. My beloved Broncos took down Little Manning, but by then it was on the swim team, so it was a radio update cheer a thon.

It will be a swim/bike brick tomorrow-hopefully biking outdoors, blizzard not withstanding.

Not quite stuck

I napped, under the watchful gaze of as yet un named bubble bike mounted on our trainer. (my goal is to spin 4-5 days a week) I could sloth no longer- spinning for 50 minutes. Spaghetti for dinner.

I did get in trouble for the chocolate cake. The best way to dodge inquiry is to actually tell the truth in spite of the apparently gross exaggeration.

Who ate all the cake?

I did.

You did not.

Yes, I ate all 18 slices, all by myself, in the last 24 hours. Winter is coming and I was freezing all day, call it hibernation instinct.

Moooommmmmmmm!

Ok, I didn't eat 18 slices, it just felt that way. Had dad and brothers not helped out I probably could have polished the whole thing off, no problem.

Monthly munchies and the onset of winter can be hell.

I made up for it in the pool today. One and half hours of swimming, sets of 300 yards drill,, drill, drill.

Swimming makes my legs jealous so I had to run on the track. I did a 5K as follows

Mile 1 7:30
Mile 2 7:48
Mile 3 7:40 (yea a negative split)

total 22:58 (I know a 5K is 3.1 miles-I ran the outer ring of the track so whatever- I did a negative split whoo hoo!)

So, there you go, have a nice weekend.

Stuck on Stupid, or going south?

So, this is supposed to be my lap swimming time, right now, in the pool grinding out a few thousand yards or so. Instead I'm home sitting on my ever expanding arse with not nearly enough time to zip over to the Y, get the workout in and be home in time to meet the bus. For the record, my normally healthy and virtuous diet has been reduced to 2 pieces of chocolate cake an Egg McMuffin with hashbrown/grease sponge and a coke. Just for good measure throw in a few more bites of chocolate cake and that's what I've eaten today. What is happening to me? I'm even wearing jeans and a flannel shirt-the epitome of common man syndrome.

I need help!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A spark flickers as I have my marathon finishing shirt on underneath the flannel, but wearing a shirt just won't get it done.

Part of the problem is that I am trying to figure out a getaway for Trihubby and I but we missed the 21 day advance notice for the airlines. I hope the vacation is still within grasp, because our destination will totally rock if I can get it figured out.

For now, I think I'll go for broke and take a nap.

aaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What did you just say?

Dad, I need to turboboost my gun.

Right, that's why you have to eat the apple.

Misssion failed!!! But I got that one, moans Soapinator

There is a new parlance around the Trimama household and I have no idea what they are talking about. We are a Mac family now, and among the otherwise useful gadgets, such as spelling and grammar check, there is a video game called Nanosaur-or Brontosaur if you are Buck Naked Boy. From the occasional glance over the shoulder and the streams of conversation, I gather the objective is to fly a dinosaur which needs to swoop around and retrieve eggs without being shot by lasers or eaten by t-rex. Once you have recovered all 12 eggs you are vacuumed up into a portal to the next level, where you ?? I'm a little foggy about level 2. and 3 and 4 and how many levels can a game have?

I am not a video game aficionado. I lack the eye hand coordination to play effectively, and I simply don't care. I enjoy watching the PS2 games like SSX Tricky (which is the game they always want me to play because my boarder universally looks like highway road kill flapping in the wind, and pretty much everyone soundly crushes me) I've seen more hours of Red Faction and SOCOM than chick flicks (there is going to be some serious payback this winter :), checking Netflix queue) and I can name the entire armament of the neo soviet terror network. "Crazy (mom) Taxi" is my favorite. Virtual payback baby! It's therapeutic.

It's Soapinators birthday today. She's 9 and a bundle of love and hugs, life and laughs. I can't imagine not having a Soap in our family, so it's a great day.

I was in labor for 3 days with her, kind of makes an Ironman seem easy in comparison :)

For what it's worth

Dottie Hinson: It just got too hard.
Jimmy Dugan: It's supposed to be hard! If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great! Just ask any ironman. The hard is what makes it great.

Hard is taking a two hour tour on the tri bike in spite of fighting a yeast infection for a week just so you can get some more outdoor rides before the snow flies.

Hard is running on the way home from work after a long day just so you can train your body to run when it's already tired.

Hard is waking before the spouse, the kids and long before the sun to get in some yardage at the pool.

Hard is taking the training outdoors in the humidity, the wind, the horse flies, the cold, the wind chill, the ______fill in your own enviromental challenge.

Hard is being misunderstood by just about everyone who has never tri'd.

Hard is pushing the brain to positive when it just wants to quit.

Harad is what makes it great. What is your hard?

A little Help Here?

I'm trying to add 3 things to my sidebar colume, I want a training log, a countdown clock and profiles of The Tribe. I don't speak computer code, so can someone send me the code so I can paste it into my template. Thanks

Whoo Hooo Indian Summer

It is going to be 75 here next week! That means one thing....more outdoor riding time!! Thanks for all the compliments on the bike, after I rode her the other day I noticed that the cockpit is aptly named "salsa" so with names like salsa and tequillo(a) I'm going to have to contemplate a while before naming her. Bubble bike seems a little too obvious, although it's a handy nickname. Bubble bike is seriously fun, (an oxymoron as Hyphen girl would point out-aahhh life sublime when you arrive at a level of compelling conversation about grammar and word usage with your kid-but then I'm a geek in more ways than tri) So, why not contemplate bike names while enjoying the beauty of an extended fall.

The bike is the first step in working and training smarter. It was good for me to wait through a season because I altogether did not trust my biking skills to attempt a tri bike. Having spent the summer on the modified Frankenbike, near death experiences and all, I realized biking isn't so difficult, particularly when you have one well fitted to your frame.

So, now on to step two-swimming I taught myself to swim last January, not starting from scratch, but almost. I hadn't had a swim lesson in 30 years and I've never swam more than a length at a time. To my benefit I have a friend who was a PAC 10 champion swimmer, so I dragged her to the pool a few times and she helped immensely. My current stroke allows me to cruise through 2500-3000 yards in a workout at about 55 seconds per 50. My race times improved over the summer and that was satisfying, but there are times when you just know you need help, actual, hands on help. So, I enrolled in Foss swim school for swimming lessons. Did I mention I haven't had a swim lesson in 30 years? I met my instructor, Joe, on Tuesday. Joe is cute in a "would you like to meet my daughter (in about 10 years)" sort of way. (spare the hands on comments :), I'm a happily married trimama) He kindly informed me that my entire stroke is ineffecient at best and downright hideous at times-hideous being my word. So we drilled and drilled and drilled some more. I've done about 30 bazillion crawl strokes breathing to the right, which explains why my left side is considerably weaker and also explains why my bilateral breathing hasn't progressed so well. Each roll to the left is roughly the equivalent effort of getting Anne Coulter to approve a tax increase. I wonder if Al Franken can breathe to the right?

But we were talking about smarter.


Link

Train like a Race Horse, pt 2

Saturday Tridaddy was working out in a western 'burb which is all thoroughbred horse farms. Rolling hills, changing leaves, blue sky, aahhhh, purely pastoral. I like this horse in particular because he went lame and can no longer race at the track, but that doesn't stop him from running with his head high.

Beauty in motion

I on the other hand, scare myself. I am currently not worthy of my new ride, a Quintana Roo Tequilo. Add two letters and you have a good approximation of my riding skills on aero bars. But, this bike has bubbles, really cool bubbles, and that makes me smile. Did I mention she does 20 in granny gear? I have about 2 more weeks to practice outside and still retain feeling in my hands and feet and then it's indoors for a winter of spinning. Six hours or so is a lot of time to spend in the saddle so my off season conditioning will focus on endurance and strength training for my neck, shoulders and upper body.

So, I'm not quite ready to be put out to pasture, but I have a lot of practice in front of me. We did go on the annual trek to the apple orchard Sunday. Another simply marvelous day to pick apples, walk the orchards, hunt for pumpkins and breathe in autumn.
No trip would be complete without apple picking, but in a rare early end to picking season, this orchard was out of apples to pick. Not to be deterred by details, we took the wagon ride around the orchard anyhow, and noticed that there were still some trees that could be gleaned. The guy in the pumpking barn said we were welcome to walk the orchards and see what was left, they just weren't opening the fields to pick for purchase. We found plenty of apples to pick and sample, so crisis averted.
Part of the orchard ritual is to find pumpkins to carve. Hyphen girl in oldest child character is not content with any old pumpkin, no it has to be the biggest pumpkin in the patch. At $.39 a pound we tried to discourage that at first. Not that it breaks the bank, it's just that spending four times for a pumpking I can buy for $3.00 at the grocery store irks me. So, we made a deal with her, she can pick any pumpkin she wants but she has to be able to pick it and carry it to the barn and to the car herself. She just about gave herself a hernia this year, but she did it. That was worth the price of admission. It's always good entertainment when you get to needle your tweener, and then let them glory in their accomplishment.
My boy took a little more sensible approach, he is his mother's son.

The rest of the IMFL and training thoughts are yet to come, too much housework and office to do today, that and I'm required to take at least a 30 minute ride on the bubble bike today-coaches orders. Ok, twist my arm.

Have a good one!

Think like a bumblebee, train like a racehorse

Well my slow growth bike fund is up to a whopping $51.74 thanks to the "Common Surface Savings and Loan" and an occasional deposit from "Coach Cushion Co Op". Uncle Sam helped a bit with a generous refund of my even more generous IRS contribution, so Frankenbike might be available on Ebay soon.

Just think, what would you pay to own a piece of Trimama?

I had a dream last night that it was registration day for IMFL. My registration was official at 10:06 a.m. CST. It took me 6 minutes to fill in all the details and my credit card number. But then it took me all day to post my entry and..ok, whatever, other peoples dreams are boring.

Except this dream.

This dream, IMFL is remarkable.

I took "The Triathlon Training Bible" to work last night. I began reading this book in January, when the dream was just a speck of a seed trying to learn to breathe in the pool. Sap, or sapling, I'm going to be fitted for a tri bike this afternoon. We're going "all in", which granted doesn't amount to much because I only have about 4 chips in my pile, but the bumblebee in me says 4 chips are enough. I might not have the best bike, or the smartest coach (although he might be the sexiest-especially in his biking tights), but I have a lot of equity in the endure and conquer, train and enjoy, Life Time Savings and Loan and I have a good God, a great hubby, a wonderful tribe and cool friends.

I think I've finally settled on a reason to pursue this trip up Everest that I can endorse, that I can celebrate,

but that will have to be chapter 2, life is calling....

Crash!!!! "Mom I sink I broke that ting"

Have a great weekend!


Link

Honorable mention, not bad

Kahunaat TriGeekDreams has completed the ultra secretive (I'm not sure he even knows what it entails) selection process for the coveted Tri Diva Award. Trimama is thrilled with her honorable mention-not bad for her first beauty contest. I would like to thank all of my supporters, sideline fans and of course the tribe. Melanie is a gifted athlete and a tough competitor, it's good to see the award go to someone with such a fine ass...oh I mean set of assets, oh I mean...well I'm sure sex had nothing to do with the selection process....

Speaking of sex, here is my finisher medal. I crossed the mat in 4:32. My outside hope for time was 4:15, but when I factor in the time for 1 potty break and 2 blister repairs I can drop 12-13 minutes so my actual time of moving forward was about 4:20. Not super, but I'll take it. Oh, but we were speaking of sex, or at least I was, and that leads me to my decision to switch from the full to the half marathon at Chang's. While I truly want another go at the marathon distance, I want to enjoy this 15th anniversary away with Tridaddy. The days before a marathon are all taper and preparation and the days following a marathon leave you mentally and physically exhausted, now how fun would that be? I want to mountain bike and swim in Commodore's lake, and tour the Phoenix area and.... so 13 miles it is.

The tribe has a few days off from school, didn't they just start? Something about a teacher's conference, yea, whatever. I'd need a break 4 weeks in as well, but I'd just call it like it is, "48 hours to golf and recreate before winter traps us indoors with your little miscreants for 7 months". In a preview of winter the temp is topping out at 39 degrees today, no that isn't 93 like my southern/western companions are experiencing, it's 39. The wind is bustling and the leaves are blowing, so why not pile them up and bury yourself? Tomorrow fall is supposed to return so we are going on a fall hike. I think I'll drag along some camping equipment so we can experience camp cuisine. Pictures certainly to follow.

Finally, on the recovery front, I figured out the blisters. In a quirk of nature my feet are size 9 1/4. Not 9, not 9 1/2 but 9 1/4. I bought running shoes in the spring, size 9 and spent the summer feeling like my big toe was broken. I bought a new pair of shoes Friday, 9 1/2 and they felt great, especially when I put the Dr. Scholl's insert into them. Moron moment, I wore the super thin biking socks I wore all summer as a nod to the dance with the one that brought you, but they weren't thick enough to compensate for the extra space in my new toe box. So, the blisters are healing, and my feet are gargoyle ugly for now, but,

I have a medal and an honorable mention

Thank you, thank you very much!

Go Bob Go, that's Bob with one "O"

Mere steps from the finish line at the capital. One of these days I'm going to celebrate myself flat on my face. I'm in post marathon strange world right now. The feet are healing, I can almost descend stairs straight again, and I think that weepy feeling everytime I eat is just about gone. Funny how our brains react under stress. I think my sense of accomplishment in my first marathon will always be tempered by my disappointment in my time, but I also can't help but feel running through a hard day is worth more in the bank for IMFL than reaching my goal might have been. This left me strangely hungry. Hungry to train-harder. Hungry to push-farther. Hungry to work-smarter, much smarter. 140.6 is a long way to travel in a day, let the training commence.

The marathon was not without it's humor, the "Bob" sign being among the many that made me laugh. "Keep running, naked men ahead" (which never materialized) and "Beer Station" (crossed out by "sorry they shut us down"). At one point I was talking to a complete strangers feet, in response to "tell my feet that" more to say, but the carpool waits.

Oh boy

They say there are good marathon days and bad marathon days. Want to guess what kind of day it was as I embarked on my first 26.2?

3000 people DNF'd

They pulled the pace rabbit because there was no chance of a record falling.

The male winner was 15 minutes slower than his PB

Joan Benoit Samuelson was shuffling and dogging at mile 20 (yet still qualified for olympic time trials for 2008 at 48 years old)

The female winner was walking at mile 22 and 24.

It was the second slowest finish in the history of this marathon.

The average finish was 4:27

It was a beautiful day-but just humid and weird. It was like the barometric pressure couldn't make up it's mind.
There was a lot of this-cramps, vomiting, etc.

I was ready to turn off at mile 5-since that marker was only 4 miles from home. At mile 6 I knew the first blister was forming on my feet so I stopped at an aide tent. 3:45 time delay- but better than the woman who stopped with me and nearly passed out.

By mile 7 I was finally feeling really good, until mile 11 where I stopped for the other foot. At mile 14 I met the tribe for the first time. Take me home, please. Of course I didn't want to go home, but I didn't want to keep going either. I can't explain it, physically I felt great, mentally I felt like rats were gnawing on my cerebrum.

The crowds were constant and so inspiring. Just keep moving, just keep moving. I walked and drank at every water stop. miles 15-18 went better, but then I started to hyperventilate. (more on that later) The tribe met me at mile 17, God bless them. I was running for the right to tell them to never quit. I threw out my pace charts at mile 13. Notwithstanding the 9 minute delay for the feet, my 13 mile split was discouraging. I figured if I could just click off 4 more I could get mentally close enough to the finish line that I could push through to the end. As soon as I saw mile 19 I knew I was going to make it. Somehow getting within an hour of finishing was very helpful. Then came the ALARC wall. I passed mile 20 knowing it's all up hill from there. I felt good though-at least physiclly, so I at least knew I could keep moving. I could walk if I had to, but I didn't want to walk.
Surprisingly, when I was running, I was carrying a good pace. Run, run run, walk, drink, walk, run, run, run. Finally mile 24 and the tribe waiting to cheer me home. I knew I was so close that was no chance of not making it. I tried to not think about what my feet must look like by now-theyll heal- and I focused on smiling, and encouraging everyone plodding along next to me. One last up hill then mile 25. Finally that awesom downhill and the capitol. I forced myself to run the final half mile praying I wouldn't trip and finally, finish line. I made it! My time was a full 1/2 hour slower than what I wanted, and I was disappointed, until I learned that it wasn't a day for records or speed-it was just flat out endurance today.

T-48 or so

I had a dream last night that I grew a mustache. This lack of exercise is really getting to me. Ever focused on the marathon, my dilemma with the mustache was that I didn't want that on my finishing photo. So, I worried and fretted about how to get rid of it. I didn't want to shave because that would only make it worse, so I spent the balance of that dream looking obviously transgendered. Oh, to have access to photo shop at times like these, that could be a fun experiment.

Or not.


"Mom, there is a 13 year old boy on the bus and he has his own cell phone and he can date."

Hyphen Girl doesn't like taking the bus, I don't entirely blame her, but that might be an ace she wants to save for a little later in life. Primarily because she still lives safely inside the bubble of "you don't have a cell phone, you're years from dating and you're barely allowed outside the house without supervision". I've got to give her credit for trying though, that was a fairly insightful bluff.

She is focused on her own "marathon" experience right now anyhow. She is going to run part of the bike course which constitutes a non public school fundraiser, whereby the kids raise pledges for covering any or all of a 9 mile bike course. She has been loosely training since her 5K this summer in anticipation of the highlight of the running season, The Turkey Trot. Each year for the past 11 we've gathered as many friends as were available to run this race on Thanksgiving morning. This will be her first year and she is psyched. A couple of friends from school are training to run with her, and hopefully their moms will come along for the ride. She has a plan mapped out down to which gel pack to consume enroute. Since that is all part of the experience I'm not about to tell her she probably doesn't need a nutrition supplement on a four mile run, I think I'll even fill my flask belt for her. Four miles is a long run when 3 is the farthest you've travelled.

Her homeroom is potentially stopping by the site today, hence the entry. I spent the summer listening to Radio Disney and gaining small insights into the tweener world. Check that, it's more like the pre tweener world, they graduate up the secular food chain a little faster each year.

Soapinator is going to a birthday party today at a store I remain highly conflicted about. The store is little girl fantasy on steroids, or should I say on MTV. The idea is that they get their hair and make up done and play dress up. No problem with girls and dress up, I think it's great. This store extends dress up to the next level where you get to see your 8 year old arrayed like Brittany or Christina complete with song and dance. Again, not great role models but still fairly innocent primarily becasue the kids don't get it. It gets creepy when the dress up becomes an extension of the mom's own psychosexual Desparate Housewife fantasy. Women elevating their daughter's sexuality publicly in the hopes that alluring daughter equates to vixen mother is simply too disturbing. Soapinator, you can be a squirrly little girl for many years to come. If the mom hosting the party wasn't a great woman and mom Soap wouldn't be going. As it is, I think they will have a great time, six 8 year old giggling girls. Look out brothers.

Speaking of which, they will be home with dad tonight as I have to work. When the wife is out it's game/cigar/scotch night at single dad's house. So the question, how much do you clean house when the boys are coming over? Check that. Beer's in the fridge, wood is in the fire pit (I don't want to smell one hint of cigar in my living room boys-smoke outside!) I'll clean tomorrow (taper style) for the carbo load dinner here tomorrow night.

Next post race report.

Have a great weekend!

Hi 6th Graders!

HG sends a shout out to her homeroom class. Yo!
Thanks for your prayers for the marathon. Sam's mom is running as well as Ian's mom. It's exciting to set a goal like that, train hard and God willing pass the finish line.
We'll see you at the other Marathon Saturday, have a great time biking!

Waiting.....waiting....la la la ....

Current favorite family song: "Bicycle" by Queen. Sorry no link but you can get it at Itunes.

Did you know when boys see "virtually indestructible" on a toy package they take it as a personal challenge?

Can someone please tell me which marketing genius conspired to stamp that on the styrofoam glider we picked up last night?

My house is really clean right now. Funny how 12 or so extra hours in a week can help you catch up on the piles. I rode my bicycle (see now the song is stuck in my head for the duration) to the bank and on a few errands yesterday. I still need to go pick up a few hammer gels and was ready to go this afternoon but Buck Naked Boy got on the bus, broke down crying, got off the bus, went and crawled in my bed and slept for almost 3 hours. Kindergarten can be tough I guess, there is that pressure to learn everything you need to know, and he just needed a nap. This is why this year is just warm up kindergarten for him. Next year he will go to school with the other three and will do kindergarten all over again. Next year's K will be 3 days all day, so it will be like a promotion for him. He wanted to eat lunch at 9:00 this morning because it was raining. For some reason he really wanted to go to school in the rain. No matter how I configured the argument he could not get around the idea that eating lunch does not precipitate the arrival of the bus. 5 year old logic, I eat lunch, I yell that news down the street to the bus driver, and the bus arrives. It's worked everyday for the last 3 weeks, it ought to work today. As the clouds cleared and the rain stopped his frown grew darker. Suddenly I was the arbiter of all weather patterns and it was my fault that the bus did not arrive while it was raining.
I was briefly tempted to soothe his grief with the assurance that I would make a rainy day for him if it were in my power, but somehow that seemed to reinforce the idea that parents can universally deliver the every whim or request of a kid. I'm sorry son, some days it rains and some days it doesn't. So, we sat on the steps and waited for the bus. I told him I was sorry that he couldn't go to school in the rain, but then he declared that I'm not allowed to talk...or sing...or hum...
He didn't want to call for the bus, he just flat out didn't want to go to school. So, he went to bed, and I worked on piles. He woke up in a far more pleasant mood and my house was a little cleaner.

waiting.......waiting.....waiting......

Training without training

My beloved Broncos won 30-10 last night. Yea!!!!! I'll admit, I fell asleep in the middle of the third quarter, they had the game in hand and I'm trying to make sure I rest well this week. If it had been any other team I wouldn't have made it to half time. Bronco games and chilli go together like Elway and (insert just about any WR or TE) so I whipped up a batch. Like Orange Crush and Mile High Salutes, my chili is not for the faint of heart nor for those afflicted with Little Kahuna Brother problems. "fire in the hole" takes on a whole new meaning. Like they say, if you can't take the heat stay out of my kitchen. Or, you can just eat waffles with my kids. Typically belgian waffles are a Sunday brunch affair, but I made the exception because we weren't home for brunch and I love my kids and don't want to prematurely fry their taste buds. The waffles are a whole other food catagory. My two ocd kids spend 15 minutes just preparing their masterpiece. Should I be worried about the one who decorates each square of 2 waffles with perfect synchronicity before consuming? Contrast that with the two who prefer the dump and shovel technique and it's quite a spectacle. BTW the waffle camps aren't divided by gender either, there is one boy/girl in each camp.

Verticle Man signed up for Chang's so the movement is growing. With Commodore's new swimming lake we could have a great kick off training weekend for Ironman '06.

Of course this presumes I've made a final decision on Florida (my long held contention has been that I need to complete a marathon first-ask me Monday) and that any of the tri geek alliance wants to hang out with Trimama in Arizona in January and that any of you plan to be actually training in January. If you live in a cold state do you really have a choice. Just think, training outside in the winter-I know bizarre concept.

One final very rewarding part to all of this endurance stuff. For some reason it is easier to persuade people to try running 3 miles or 13 miles when you are traveling 26.2 or 140.6. To date Team Trimama has added 8 members and is growing every week. That's not including work clients, so 8 new people training for better health, that's a good thing.

Just another day at the office

CRAIG
Doug! Steve! What's up?
DOUG/STEVE
Craig!
CRAIG
Looking large, gentlemen. You
guys want the rest of my power
bar?
-- holding it up.
DOUG
(holding it up)
No, we got a Nitro bar.
CRAIG
(holding it up)
How 'bout an Energy Booster Bar?
STEVE
(holding it up)
No, we got a Muscle Triplicator
Bar.
CRAIG
Okay, but let me know if you need
some carbs. I got a case of
'carbolicious' in the back. But
supplements aside, can I get some
quality time with you fellas?
DOUG
We're in between sets. Lay it on.
CRAIG
How long we been friends?
STEVE
All seven years of high school.
CRAIG
That's right. That's why I got to be
real with you now. And I'm not gonna
sugar coat it. As a professional
trainer, I'm a little worried about
your pecs. You guys don't go all the
way down. It's called full
extension. And I'm not seeing it.
DOUG
Craig, you're right. We actually had
a long talk about that the other
night.
CRAIG
I just don't want you to cheat
yourselves. I'm sorry I had to come
down on you like this, but in a weird
way, that's my job.
DOUG
Hey, that's why we love you and we
hate you
CRAIG
Still friends?
STEVE/DOUG
You know it.


I've only seen this scene of the movie, but I saw it the other night when I had just returned from work. I'm still laughing on about 8 levels. It must be the taper is getting to my brain. Speaking of which, only 6 days to go-whooo hooo. Everything seems to be working well, I'm getting in a lot of stretching to keep loose. My only running this week will be errands, which find me searching out a foam roller for..whatever foam rollers are for. My understanding is a dual massage/stretching run better thing. I think I'll pick up some carbolicious while I'm at it.

And bum bum bum buuuummmm. The Broncos are on Monday Night Football tonight. Now that's how to manage a taper. I will not break training (light beer) I will not break training (light beer) I will not break traing........

check out how to win this
and help the children separated from their families during Katrina

hey look, I'm rambling.....

"So, are you here for the health fair?" he said as he waved his cigarette at me.

Yes, I am

(draaaaaagggggg) cough, "It's around the front of the building" pointing with his other, as yet unlit, but soon to be lit off end of burning one, cigarette.

One of my many job responsibilities is to go to metro area businesses that are hosting health fairs for their employees. I take blood pressure and administer body fat percentage tests. I'm just guessing that my very helpful tour guide will not be attending today. I personally hold no moral judgements against those who smoke. It is a legal, regulated activity and people engage in it knowing the full impact on health and economy. Smokes are $4.00 a pack here now with about $2.50 of that being tax to off set health costs and raise revenue for the state. I do think smoking is foolish for both health and economic reasons. That thought was cemented as I watched my grandfather drown in his own bodily fluid as he died from lung cancer-a lifelong smoker.

So, I spent the morning talking fat with people. Talking health with people. Our display for the Y included a basket of chocolate kisses. Of course no one takes a kiss straight on. There is always the obligatory, "oh I shouldn't" comment. Then there are the hands that come sneaking around from behind the display to snag a candy. Somehow I think the candy sneak would be far more effective if the perpetrator wasn't trying to conceal a 300 pound frame behind a carboard sign. I bite my tongue on so many comments it hurts when I leave. Better my tongue than the feelings of those who wouldn't understand my sense of humor that sees irony and humor in most things.

This health fair was a little slow so I tested myself and added yet another reason to love triathlon. A bodyfat percentage less than 1/2 of twice my age. It took me half of my six mile run to figure out that equation, so if you need help I'll provide a tutorial. hint: 37-1=2F Yes, I was thrilled. This age/body fat criteria makes 40 look like La vida loca.

Finally, totally cool, I have 2 friends to go to packet pick up with-those things aren't any fun alone, and I just heard last night my boss is running the marathon and we run the same pace so we are going to try to hook up. Yea!!!!!!!!

Have a good safe weekend everybody

Caution, taper ahead

With 10 days to go until
TCM I can see the taper on the horizon. No endurance athlete cares much for tapers, I hate them in mid season in particular. I've figured out that my muscles are the most fatigued about 6 days after a long run, so I am aiming for one last speed workout and one final long run this week. Then rest and wait. I will probably run 2-3 miles on Tues and a short bike on Thurs and then that's it. I tried the speed workout yesterday in the afternoon heat (92 degrees) and humidity. We even had tornados last night, unheard of in September. Since it was the last day of summer, and it was hot, we stopped for the obligatory after school ice cream. The speed workout started well with a 3:53 loop (that I've calculated to be 800 yards or .45 miles) for a warm up. Loop 2 on 45 sec rest was 3:35, at the end of which it occured to me that a McDonalds strawberry shake, no matter how appealing on a hot day, is not a good pre speed workout snack. Loop 3 on 2:10 rest (Soapinator had to take a cycle on her bike and I had to time her) took 3:21. Ironically I thought I was slowing down and barked in my own ear for the final 300. "Don't you dare quit! I don't care if strawberry comes blowing out your nose you are not quitting on this loop. We don't quit in the middle of a loop! Move your a-s-s!

Mommy you sound like you are dying.

gasp, gasp. Just catching my breath. Buuurrrrpppp.

Oh, nice one mom (what am I teaching these kids?

So, now decision time. The shake I should never have consumed is bubbling in the back of my throat waiting to spray chunky pepto bismal across the landscape. Its hot and my runs are feeling progressively less productive right now. Will one more lap add to my marathon experience or just leave pink acid burning the inside of my noise all night?

Then I glance at "the hill" 100 yards of sheer childhood thrill when covered with snow. It occured to me that it might be better to change this one into a hill workout. I have no idea why I thought running hills would be easier on the stomach than sprints, but the burp seemed to have helped and I ran to the top of the hill. As I toed up the last several yards I felt a tightening in my achilles that didn't feel so good. No, that didn't feel right at all. Decision time again. I could run several more hills and get in a good stressing working out, but I could also snap that tendon and be done.

Some days you just need to quit when you are ahead, or at least quit when that little voice is saying, hey moron, you're ahead right now but don't tempt fate, it's not worth it. I have no idea if running would have brought injury, and with only 10 days to go it just wasn't worth finding out the hard way.

Compelling reasons

This my friends is what spammers have reduced me to. You see, I don't wear glasses, I've been 20-20 my whole life. Now with the onset of spam blockers and age it has become necessary to use this handy little thing to get the screen to stop moving with all of your spam blockers. Thanks for the geritol experience.

BTW, with all of your spam blockers I've noticed considerably less spam in my comments in spite of not enabling my site-which is another sign of age as I can't figure out how to get the thing to engage.

About my Ironman considerations, on the plus side of the ledger, I have my health right now, which is never guaranteed, so it makes sense to dive in while you know you can swim.


Check this out for all you minivan drivers.

and here you can view other favorites such as "Jesus loves me but he can't stand you". Classic.

Another item on the plus side of the ledger, I drive a minivan but I don't want my life to be a minivan life. Ironman elevates above minivan (even if Ford is the sponsor--allow me to elaborate before I peeve all of the Ford afficianados-well let's just say Ford Truck would be a better sponsor, better then say Found On the Road Dead. This is an endurance race afterall.)

Finally, I really like the idea of being part of a team, part of a group training towards a common goal. I think it will be beyond words to celebrate with the tri geek team as each member crosses the finish line. Can I cheer sitting on the bench? Absolutely. My high school basketball team won it's first state championship my senior year of high school. I worked year round for six years to achieve that moment and I cheered when it arrived. The only problem was that I was cheering from Minnesota and my team was in Colorado-we had moved at the start of my senior year. It would be fun to be in the game this year and acutally get the hardware.

So, the contemplation continues...for about 46 more days...

Smatterings

No cohesive thought here today, there are too many naked barbies laying around the house so I really need to clean up this morning. That and the 12 loads of laundry in various stages of sort, wash, fold and put away. Ironically, there are no barbie clothes in the piles so they will end up in a pile of Roman debauchery at the top of the stairs for now.

Along with the normal piles of household, work, and life to contend with, my brain is always slightly on the Ironman horizon. The whole endevour strikes me as counterintuitive to my personality and position in life. Crossing the Ironman finish line requires a good deal of money and time, neither of which I am comfortable consuming solely for myself. For Tridaddy, Florida is a forgone conclusion and he is ready to move heaven and earth to make it all happen. So, while my mind is filled with should I really, and what if's, he is posting pictures of the Florida beach on our desk top--for inspiration--he says. It would be so much easier if this was his pursuit that I was supporting. For whatever reason we seem fated to experience Ironman through our effort but my body. I believe strongly in fate and purpose for life, it just drives me nuts not knowing the point behind the compelling providence which will bring me to that "click the button" moment Nov 6th. That's what is strange about this, I don't need it, in the sense that my life is challenging enough. I'm not a demonstrative person, so I'm not likely to run around exclaiming my ironman status-well a little tatoo would be in order- I frankly don't care to spread that information too widely-primarily because it goes beyond the comprehension of most of the people I know. Yet hardly a day goes by that my mind doesn't wander to some place on that course. Certainly every workout at some point brings reflection on what that particular discipline will feel like in Florida.

It's like I have a disease. A beastly triathlon disease. Minus the compulsion. And the addiction. I would be perfectly content to remain in the ranks of the sprint/occasional olympic triathlete.

Who am I kidding? I want to go to Florida. I want to train and build and move toward that incredible goal. I just don't want my family to lack anything in the process.

I've got to start believing that if this really is providence, it will all work out in the end.

I have a suspicion the "exactly why am I doing this?" question will be a constant refrain over the next year. I am looking forward to the answer.

(so long as because you are a selfish egomaniac isn't among the answers. :)

T-16 and counting

Twin Cities marathon, (which thank goodness has no sponsor as yet because I really don't want to run the Tetrisil Twin Cities "soothe the itch" Marathon. Which would spawn the obligatory Playtex "Go with the flow" woman's marathon. Go ahead, conjure up your own sponsors,) is only 2 weeks away. (I'm fully aware of the grammatical nightmare of that last sentence-it's late though so cut me some slack please) I'm ready... I think. Compared to triathlons, marathons are just not as nerve wracking. Lace on your shoes and run. Ok, run a really long time, but run. Walk if you need to, eat before you need to, drink enough fluids and just keep moving. I can do that. I hope to do it effectively. I will be quite pleased to do it very effectively. I hold no expectations other than to finish becasue I never have. If this goes well I plan to train a little harder for Chang's in January.

I did receive my confirmation packet and laughed along with Hyphen Girl when she pointed out the following lost and found procedure:

Lost & Found items, including Lost Kids (the distant cousins of The Lost Boys), should be turned into and/or can be picked up at the Information Booth located just outside the Secured Finish Area (see Finish Area Map). Any articles found will be sent to this Information Booth and may be claimed here until 3:00 pm race day. Articles will be held in the Marathon Office until November 4. Thereafter all items not claimed will be donated to charity.

The way I understand, I have free childcare until at least 3:00 that day. For the more unruly of The Tribe home will be The Marathon Office until November 4th, when The Mother will pick them up in The Car and bring them to The Home. Although there is always that charity option...