This weekend I made a very bold move.  I difficult move. A move that found me eating humble pie which frankly is not all that delicious.  I broke up with sloth.

     Saturday  I went swimming for the first time since before Thanksgiving. My legs cramped everywhere – even my shins.  I had to sit out a 50 of our 500 pull because I needed to catch my breath.   Sunday I went on a bike ride and got dropped (except it was a no drop ride so I was rescued), bonked really hard and struggled mightily to ride 35 miles. I was the last one in. Humbled.

But you know what? I would not trade the opportunity to be able to get back in shape for anything because having the opportunity to eat a little humble pie and suffer a little makes me feel lucky to have a body that is capable. I am healthy and I can do this and that means everything.

I’m looking to break up with not writing, too. It’s a tall order given my job and its somewhat unreasonable demands but I will try to reclaim a couple pieces of my life and get back to what I love – working out with my friends and writing funny stories about it. This one was an admission of gratitude so no humor but stay tuned.

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Anyone who knows me knows that my poor sense of direction is legendary.

Today I went on a ‘group’ ride.  Only problem is that I haven’t been riding and I got dropped on a hill and then I just stopped to get some air in my body and I lost the group.  Undaunted I carried on and spent some time riding in circles but not before I found another woman from the group who had made the same mistake.  Together we ended up having a lovely ride.  It went like this (if you click on the pics they get bigger and you can see my typos)  And I apologize for the crappy formatting.  I have no idea.

Here is a shot of the route. Looks innocent enough and yet – what is that dog leg doing there?  Hmm.. let’s explore:

Zooming in a bit we see this:

Digging deeper:

We did not catch them – we didn’t even see them and I have no idea why. We really should have.  Oh wait – maybe it’s because we did this:

To round it all up:

jhkjkjhkjhk

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So after bitching about The Hunger Games I decided I needed to play well with others (others being my book club who wanted to talk about it) so I downloaded the first part, thoroughly prepared to hate it.  I did not.  I was just about as sucked in as a person can be.  I HAD to know how it turned out although the fact that the book is written in the 1st person is kind of a clue.  I’m reading the 2nd installment now.  I hear the trilogy doesn’t get really good until the 3rd book so I’m fully prepared for that.

And remember that thing where I broke up with triathon?  Well… much to my surprise I find myself registered for IM Canada – Aug 26, 2012.  How the hell??!!!!  2 women from my first newbie triathlete group signed up and well… I thought, “hey – I could train with them!  This could be fun!”  And then I pulled the trigger so I guess you could say I’m all in – ’cause that’s what we triathletes like to say.  ”I’m all in – I’m toeing the line”    Day-um!

Until then this is the tape I need to keep playing in my head

 

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“In the ruins of a place once known as North America lies the nation of Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by 12 outlying districts. The Capitol is harsh and cruel and keeps the districts in line by forcing them all to send one boy and one girl between the ages of 12 and 18 to participate in the annual Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live TV.”

This is the standard description of the new, hot selling book – The Hunger Games.

Why oh why do people want to read such a thing? I don’t understand. Really – I need help figuring this out.

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    Sick of your usual breakfast? Here’s a new one for you. Go to Trader Joe and buy some plain lassi and frozen mango. Cut up 2 mango slices into little pieces. Put lassi, mango and a scoop of protein powder in the blender and whip it up. Dee-lish! If you don’t have Trader Joe in your area find an Indian grocery store or a fancy health food store.

I have more stories for you – like the one about how my road rash got seriously infected and I’ve been on antibiotics for over 2 weeks. But I’ll save that for later.

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Hitting bottom is the place addicts get to when chronic unemployment, loss of friendship, living in dire straights,  having no money, stealing from people you love, all of which can be attributed to your use of addictive substances (or food or gambling or sex), finally become so over powering that they  are forced to face facts and get help and then to change their lives.  My hitting bottom is of a different nature by quite a long shot but it still felt bad and it still felt like a real wake up call.

Last weekend I raced Vineman 70.3 for the 4th time.  I wanted very badly to PR since times 2 and 3 were worse than my  inaugural Vineman effort.    My 2nd took place on a day when it was over 100 degrees on the run course.  My 3rd was undertaken with almost no training due to work and travel and after that race I vowed never to toe the line untrained again.

I showed up for Vineman #4 severely under trained. No excuses this year – I didn’t travel much and I wasn’t working that hard.  I just didn’t step up. What’s worse is that this was not the first race I showed up for minus the training this year. It was the 3rd.  I had already raced an Olympic and a 66 mile race and had pretty poor results both times and swore that if I didn’t train I wouldn’t race Vineman.  Are you seeing the pattern, yet?

The weekend before the race I had a pretty good training weekend.  On Saturday I rode 25 miles pretty hard and had a peppy 2 mile run off.  I was feeling oddly confident given that 25 miles + 2 miles isn’t even close to 70.3 miles.

Race day dawned and off I went.  I thought my swim was a 4 minute PR based on the Garmin. Then I got on the bike and I felt pretty good.  I was moving along at an okay clip.  I got to the first water stop and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade (for no known reason since I knew I wouldn’t drink it) and put it in the back bottle cage, grabbed a power bar, missed the last bottle of water and someone ran one up to hand me one  so I quickly  dumped it in my aero bottle, went to toss the bottle in the bin before I’d gone too far (I was almost past the bin now)  and looked up to see myself running into the curb. CRAP!  There was no time and down I went – right on to some nasty, chunky gravel  - BOOM!   A guy helped me up and picked up my bike.   The bike was okay so I grabbed one of the bottles that still had water in it, rinsed off the blood and took off.

32 miles later I was off on the run.  I can’t remember if  I was aware of how bad my bike split was but I had fallen so I just had to deal with it.  My run  strategy had been to try to run the whole thing but run slow so that’s what I did. Only I didn’t run the whole thing- I walked some of it. I walked and jogged which all together was really slow.  As always I just kept going.  Once I got to 4 miles I was at the “no turning back because that’s 8 miles anyhow and you might as well just do 13.1″ . And I did.  I finished.

I looked around for my friends but didn’t see anyone (because they had all finished way before me) so I headed for Medical to get patched up.  Only I started crying.  I haven’t cried at the finish line since I did my first marathon and I really didn’t understand what was happening but by the time I sat down in medical I was crying hard.  It was the kind of mournful, deep crying that comes when you’ve lost something dear to you.

I got patched up and during that process realized I didn’t feel so good. I asked for a puke bucket just in case.  They put me on a cot and put a cold cloth on my head and kept patching me up.   I stayed there for quite a while and then I saw a friend outside so I stood up to get her – and then I didn’t feel so good.  Back to the cot I went and I was ashen faced with grey lips (not a good look on me).  They elevated my feet, got me water and gatorade and took my vitals about every 15 minutes.  A couple of hours later I was good to go.

I had to think long and hard about the tears and the emotion and what was going on there. I knew I had had a trauma and I was hurt but still – that didn’t really cover it. I’m not a sobber.  I believe I was crying tears of disappointment in myself for letting myself go. For not training.  For not losing the 15 pounds I’ve gained since Vineman #1.  For putting   myself last.  For not honoring myself by trying to succeed.  It was a wake up call and the message is ‘there is no try – only do or not do’  and that’s the decision point for me.    At this point I am 3 for 3 on ignoring my own advice and with that we say, “De Nile  ain’t  just a river in Egypt”

Can I break the cycle?  I’ll keep you posted.

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Here is what I need more of:
More Health and Fitness News & Tips at Greatist.

And here is what I need less of :

More:

less:

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I’ve already gone from “1 Down, 5 or so to Go” to “2 Down, 2 or 3 to Go”.  It’s the new math!    Or it’s because I missed a race due to illness, injury and apathy to train and  then did what was supposed to be race #3 only to be hit upside the head with a healthy dose of reality.    Going long when you don’t train is just ugly.   

On a positive note I got promoted at work and then immediately got handed a very large project to manage.  An important project (as are they all ) and I need to  do a really good job.  There goes the training and therefore there should go the racing.  Will I give up?

Race #2 was the Silicon Valley Long Course 66 mile race.  1 mile swim, 56 mile ride, 9 mile run.  That 9 mile run seemed like such a fabulous idea – 4 fewer miles than a 70.3!!   I’d like to say it lived up to my expectations that it would be so much easier but I’d be lying.

Quick race report

Swim - The water, contrary to what I had heard, was very nice.  Good temperature, clean, silky.  The course was 2 loops where you had to get out of the water and take a quick run down the beach and get back in. There’s nothing quite like standing up and becoming very aware of your rapid heart rate and labored breathing to make a swim just a few notes short of totally terrifying.  I was a twee uncomfortable when I started lap 2 but then I started passing people from a previous wave and I felt  pretty good.  Total swim time 36 minutes.  Good enough.

T2 – my usual fumbling to get the wetsuit off, panting, struggling with the shoes blah, blah, blah. It took approximately forever

Bike - The course was nice.  I felt okay and maybe even passed a person or two. Then some passed me. Then  I rode alone for a while and was happy to note that there is some fine agricultural land still in existence in   Steinbeck Country.  I liked it.  Only 1 hill to speak of and lots of nice scenery.  At about mile 30 I traded off for a bit with a sweet young thing in a UC San Diego Tri suit and finally managed to drop her which felt great even though I was pretty sure I would see her again.  I also traded for a while with a 44 year old and a 59 year old until they eventually dropped me. As they sped off saying something or another I said “We still have 9 miles to  run” and the 44 year old said “Ah – I’m not a runner – that will be more a walking thing” and I thought “great – I’ll wave on my way by you”.

I was hurting and struggling and I had dueling songs in my head.  I would start to hear Carole King’s “I haven’t Got Time for the Pain” and then I would think “NO NO – NOT THAT!” and start channeling the Beatles “It’s Getting Better All the Time”.  It got me through in I wasn’t sure how much time.

T2 - I must have looked pretty toasted because my friend Carrie who was volunteering was ever so encouraging. I just knew she could tell I wanted to cry and go off to play in the playground. I didn’t, though. I swapped my stuff and headed out for the run.

Run – As expected it was a  long, drawn out, sufferfest and  I had no juice. That is the inevitable result of not running very often.  I think I had run 9 miles over  2 weeks and here I was trying to run 9 miles in under 2 hours.  Seemed like a long shot.  I walked, I stopped and breathed, I jogged, I took a Gu, I drank some water, I jogged some more and I told myself, “just get to 4.5 miles and you will be on the way back” and that’s what I did.

It was an out and back and I looked and looked for Ms. 59 and she was nowhere to be found.  Not sure about her 44 year old friend but I think I passed her.  My little bud from UC San Diego flew past me at about mile 4 and I called out “I knew you’d get me” and she called “hang on with me!”  Cute kid.   When I was almost done my friend Sharley came along on her bike and gave me a lead bike to the finish experience.  It was very nice.

Just as I got done I heard them announcing 1st place in my division.  ”She did it in 4:11!” they called.  And then they started moving on so I walked up to the podium and said “I race 55-59 and I just finished so I must be #2″. They said they would get the results in a minute and get back to me which they did not do. When they got done announcing winners I went up and reminded them and they looked it up and scowled at the iPad and finally gave me my bottle of wine and a t-shirt identical to the one I’d gotten in the SWAG bag (WTF??)

Total time 6:08 which was not a happy thing but as it turns out Ms. 1st place “winner” bagged the race and just did the aqua-bike so really I won.  How they failed to note her 2 minute and 18 second run time as they announced her win is beyond me.  Anyhow, the other lady in my AG never showed up so I totally dominated! First, Second and Third!  And I only got 1 bottle of wine. Damn.

It hurt.   It hurt a lot.  So the obvious question is what do I do about Vineman 70.3, Folsom Long Course (66 miles) and Big Kahuna 70.3?  The answer is – I will go ahead and make an attempt at Vineman again.  The game plan is to get more running in and just fake it on the bike and not die on the run.  I’ll probably switch to Folsom Sprint although I could probably dominate my AG again in the Long Course  since the competition all goes for the short stuff.  And I will probably roll over on Big K for this year because no one is paying me for this and it’s kind of a struggle.

So The weird math problem of the day is this:  If an athlete starts the season registered for 6 races and turns 3 into 2 how many races will she do?  Answer: Nobody knows.

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I saw Thor last night.  I don’t generally go to action films because they usually involve cars flying through the air and buildings blowing up and I find that disturbing but I really wanted NOT to spend yet another Saturday night at home and my friend’s husband picked Thor so Thor it was.

Thor is, of course, based on the Marvel comic of the same name. Thor is a big beefy guy who wears armor and capes and speaks with an oddly Svedish/British accent.   He lives in a place that looks like a scene from the classic video game Myst.  I found it odd and disorienting but I decided that for $10.50 I needed to let go of my tenuous grip on reality for the next 90 minutes and just go with it.

Thor in this movie has a very nice face.  There is the opening with Thor as a boy and then there is the scene where Thor is about to be crowned King in which he shines with power of a ring of suns around his planet (or was that moons around Luke Skywalker’s planet – can’t remember) and he winks at his too young and too beautiful looking mother (Renee “age cannot touch me”  Russo )  and his smile is so strong and so broad it made my cheeks ache just looking at him.

And then things happen and he ends up on earth in the company of Natalie Portman who kindly offers him her ex-boyfriend’s clothes because that whole cape thing just doesn’t work out on Terra Firma. When we first see him  he’s only managed to pull on the very well fitting jeans.

And at that point the movie became  worth every dime of the price of admission.  The man has biceps that bulge with the promise of being able to carry you across a raging river in a Biblical flood, a torso with pecs that beckon you to imagine what it might be like to lay your head on their warmth, your ear and cheek soaking up the heat like a kitten lying in the sun, your arm resting on his rock hard abs.

But wait – let me clear something up here.  I have no actual sexual fantasies about the guy.  He’s more than young enough to be my son and unlike men, women don’t generally fantasize about banging  men young enough to be their children.  That whole ‘Cougar’ thing is more myth  than fact and anyhow, that’s for women in their 40s – or maybe 30s – our culture might be just effed up enough to think that woman in her 30s who gets dressed up and goes out for some fun is over the hill and therefore deserves to be called  a silly name – the name of a predatory animal. But I digress.  I just like the visuals and concept  but have no real desire for the guy.

Let’s return for a moment to Hollywood’s latest obsession – mix and match the ages.  We saw the  preview to Cowboys and Aliens – totally weird, Wild West meets Battle Los Angeles and a couple of other forgettable trailers for similar movies.  And then there was the Transformers, Part Deux trailer with more violence per second than most brains can conjure up  in a flash of inconsolable anger.  Apparently there is no end in sight for the public’s love of the same tired story and the same uber flammable, loud special effects.  I don’t really get it.  At all.

Anyhow – this movie is pretty much the hero’s journey take 554,362 in which a brash, egotistical man in line for the keys to the Kingdom gains humility and decides to act on behalf of the greater good.  But whoa – is he hot.

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Thanks to Coach Tammy I’ve just learned about these things called QR Codes.  You create them using a QR  generator and you read them using a QR reader.  I downloaded Connectme QR to my iPhone and watched the magic happen.  You can, too!

This one is a little self referential but you can create them with any amount of contact info you want depending on the site you use. Very cool and way fun. And yes – I’m a nerd.

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