Tri 2016 Training – week 1

Well folks. I survived week 1 of training. I can’t say I stuck with the plan 100%. I replaced one of the biking session with a Spin class. And I chose to not do the other bike and one of the shorter runs. Those were very calculated decisions that I have not once second guessed or regretted. Friday I planned a 20 minute run at lunch. I was struggling with low energy all morning and walked across the street to get coffee. The wind was whipping, it was cold and I almost started crying at the very idea of running later…outside, treadmill, whatever. I was just TIRED. So I made the decision to not run. I had a softball game that evening and didn’t get into bed until later but I optimistically set my alarm for 7:00am to get in a ride Saturday morning before all our plans for the day.

My husband woke me up at 9:00am. I use my phone as my alarm and it lays on the floor next to the bed. Hubby said when HE woke up, I was still laying halfway out of bed, my hand on the phone. I turned off my alarm and IMMEDIATELY fell back asleep without getting back in bed. Apparently? My body was determined to sleep. I also managed a two hour nap both Saturday and Sunday afternoons. So no. I think nixing those two small workouts were the best call. Especially since I woke refreshed and ready to roll at 4:00am this morning. And the race is still 2.5 months out.

Tri Season

I’ve been fascinated with the sport of triathlon for quite awhile. Years in fact. A couple of years ago I did a super short race (200m swim, 3 mile bike, 1 mile run) with absolutely no training. It was hot. It was hard. And I loved it…several hours later. I signed up to do one that fall…and again neglected to do any training. I DNF’d after getting horribly sick on the bike.

Fast forward past a few random 5ks. This year I was determined to train quietly, focus on swimming and biking and strength training and attempt racing again next year. Then I went to SE Asia for 10 days and came back 20 pounds lighter. After five years of eating well, training and the extra weight inexplicably refusing to budge, suddenly it’s disappearing at a satisfactory rate. I have no idea why but I feel pretty great so I’m running with it. Um…quite literally.

I’ve never considered myself an athlete (I’m not exactly coordinated) but this year I signed up to play softball (THAT’S a learning curve). And after talking with a friend, I signed up to do the same triathlon I did two years ago, but double the distance. True confession – there’s also a longer version that’s 4x what I originally did. And I was tempted. The race is at the end of July. I have thirteen weeks to train. But given my previous history with training I opted to stick with the middle distance while (VERY) tentatively eyeing another race in mid August with an actual Sprint distance.

Yesterday I went and bought new running shoes. After a couple of years of trying to save money, I have returned to my beloved Brooks Adrenaline line. I also grabbed an extra swim suit & a couple of pairs of capris & shorts that I can run in without them falling off. Hubs pulled out my bikes and aired up the tires.

There is a lot to do. I haven’t run more than a couple of times in…yeah. Long time. I have a road bike with cages on the pedals that I have to learn to ride. (I’m used to a mountain bike with basic flat pedals). And my swim…yikes. My training plan called for 15 mins in the pool this morning. I scoffed. Fifteen minutes. Pfft. I headed to the Y this morning fully expecting to bust out an easy half hour. I did not take into account the fact that at 5:30 in the AM at the Y…the pool is full of ultra intense and serious athletes that don’t even pause in their super fast flip turning laps long enough for someone to ask to share a lane.

It was intimidating. But I was just about to jump in a lane and let the other occupant figure it out when the life guard pointed at a spot for me. I bobbed under the ropes until I got there. The guy in the next lane over was buddies with my lane partner so we switched and I got a lane to myself for approximately two laps. Regardless, I climbed out after fifteen minutes wondering if I had dreamed every other swim I’ve ever done. I’ve never been fast but this was a struggle on an entirely different level. I never did get my breathing rhythm.

Tonight calls for a 20 min run. The wind outside is approaching seemingly hurricane levels so I think I’ll be cheating with a treadmill for this time.



YMCA Fall Sprint Triathlon 10/18/2014

In the Spring and Fall, our local YMCA organization puts on a triathlon where you swim Friday in the nice indoor pool, then start your bike leg on Saturday morning when the clock hits your swim time (and run after that…naturally).

I signed up for the full sprint distance (750m swim/12.5 mi bike/5k run) in August, ready to start training and confident that I would be ready.

Then I promptly hyper-extended my knee and knocked myself out of running (or walking…or standing…)- at all – for the duration of the training period. Confident that bike training would translate to the run, I put in my time there and in the pool.

I projected half an hour for my swim. (I’ve never been fast). I arrived at the pool with time to spare but the woman in the lane before me was going long. I was supposed to start at 7:05pm. About 7:12, she finally finished. I expected to take half an hour and had people due to show up at my house at 8:00. My timer asked if I wanted to do a couple of warm-up laps but I said “Nope. Let’s get this thing started. I have to GO.”

And go I did. Final time was 21:01. I was just a LITTLE happy with that. Seems time in the pool paid off.

I got home with enough time to tell my kiddo my time, get a cheer and high-five….and the admonition of “You need to change; you smell like sweat & chlorine”. I changed, ran a brush through my damp, chlorine infused hair, threw on a headband and greeted my lovely guests. We sat around the table partaking in amazing conversations and laughter and chili and cupcakes.

I slept fitfully but surprisingly woke up with my alarm feeling well rested. I jumped out of bed…and immediately ran to the restroom for the first of multiple times that hour. My body was not happy with something and was determined to eliminate it by any means necessary. I will spare you the graphic details. But as the clock ticked closer to the time I had determined we needed to leave, I was feeling better. I figured there was nothing left in my system (foreshadowing anyone?) and I would be fine once I got going.

TheKid went with me to the race. We got there early and sat in the van to stay warm until it was time to cluster with everyone else outside of the bike racks. As my stomach started to churn and cramp again, I repeated multiple times “This was probably a mistake.” but then chalked it up to nerves and reassured TheKid that I’d “be fine”. He made it his life’s mission to make me laugh and be goofy with him but I didn’t have it in me. I stood huddled in a jacket with the other racers, vacillating between desperately wishing I was still in bed and looking forward to seeing how the bike work paid off.

I quickly realized the work was not going to pay off. At all. After the first slight incline I started checking gears and trying to figure out why the bike wasn’t moving like it should. A few minutes later I realized the bike was fine. I was not. (See above: nothing left in my system) A guy cruised passed me yelling encouragement. I glared at his rapidly disappearing back. A few minutes later a girl passed me, shooting me a concerned look. She wasn’t moving fast and I decided to keep her within chasing distance. She disappeared just as quickly and not long after, I found out there wasn’t food left in my system so my body was going to eliminate water too. Yay. No fuel. No hydration. It’s the stuff of legendary bonks.

The bike course was 12.5 miles, mostly a square but with two little out and back additions. By the time I got to the first one, I was barely staying hydrated, barely moving and could only focus on my front wheel and the white line. I told the race official “I’m not going to be able to run. And I am most definitely not doing the extra mileage. I’m going back to the start as quickly as possible.” He waved me through, I hiccuped through a few quiet sobs and continued trying to find a gear that didn’t feel like I was pedaling through quick sand.

I spent the rest of the (approximately) 10 miles desperately trying not to weave all over the place because the truck of volunteers picking up cones was following me, very obviously keeping an eye on me. And I was determined that I was going to roll back in under my own power, not in the bed of a truck. That (approximate) 10 miles felt like 100. And felt like I was climbing a steep grade the whole time. It was a miserable long morning. But when I (finally) rolled back into transition, gross, defeated & destroyed, long after everyone else was out on their run, TheKid was standing there waiting. And as soon as I came into view he started jumping up and down and cheering “THAT’S MY MAMA! GOOOOO MOM!” And somehow, that made it better.

I checked in with the race director to make sure she knew my status and that I did not actually complete the bike portion. And then we started the limp to the van. A friend was there watching and he came over to say “hi” and see how I felt. I know we talked. But all I really remember was trying to hand TheKid my bike then realizing I wasn’t sure I could walk entirely un-aided. But by the time TheKid pulled the van into the driveway, I was starting to second guess myself. I had been sitting for a bit, re-hydrating and only slightly nauseous. Then I tried to stand upright, the world tilted alarmingly and I found myself slumped against the side of the vehicle. Soooo yeah. Probably a good thing I stopped when I did.

Surprisingly, it’s only twelve hours since I first arrived at the race site and I feel quite human again. I showered and slept for a couple of hours. I met some friends at a pizza joint to celebrate birthdays and while I avoided pizza, the bread sticks were the BEST THING EVER. I’m able to drink water without my stomach complaining and cramping. And I have realized, as frustrating and painful as the day was, a lot of good came from it too:

1. I realized I do not regret the attempt. At all. I probably would not have been nearly as sick if I had not pushed myself. But if I didn’t start, I would have always second guessed myself.

2. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in training and goals. Those can become so much a part of my identity that I start to weave my own self-worth into them. Having my day destroyed by circumstances  (mostly) outside of my control made me re-evaluate. I could have had a total melt-down, beat myself up, hid in bed, etc. I was on the razor’s edge when I passed the point of no return at that first out and back. As soon I skipped that mileage, I solidified my DNF. And I did cry. I could have easily ridden the spiral down into the pits of disappointment, embarrassment and despair. That incriminating internal voice was ready to deliver be-ratings, to cover me in the labels of “failure” and “worthless” and “hopeless”.  Or. I could embrace the fact that this was my experience for the day. It was painful, and yes – embarrassing. But I could decide how it defines and impacts me. I could take the lessons given to me (don’t eat chili the night before a race?), accept that this was the race I had to give and move on. That’s not to say that I didn’t have to battle that nasty little voice. There were definitely moments I considered sitting down on the side of the road and calling TheKid to come get me. And when I had to get off and walk up a fairly small incline because I could not physically push the pedals in the easiest gear I had…well….I was NOT saying anything positive in that moment…either verbally or mentally.

There are times I can honestly say  I was physically doing everything I possibly could…and there are moments I look back and wonder…maybe…did I have a little extra speed in me? But in the end, my child cheered un-embarrassed, despite the situation. And this afternoon I sat surrounded by friends who, when hearing that I did not finish, simply said “I’m so sorry. How are you doing now?” They were not disappointed IN me. They were disappointed FOR me. They do not love me any less and the only way a race is going to impact our relationship is if I let training take priority over them.

My legs are absolutely destroyed. It’s oddly a reassurance that my body really was as thrashed as it felt at the time. I’m giving myself today and tomorrow to lick my wounds, bandage my pride and recover. Monday I’ll be back in the pool. Next week I’ll be back on two wheels. I have the winter to add in strength training & yoga and dial in nutrition. I’ll build a solid base and Spring Sprint, I’ll have my redemption on that course.

Y Not Tri?

Today we take a brief break from the Filipino discussion:

I’ve wanted to do a triathlon for awhile now. The only problem(s)? My swim form is UGLY (and I’m slow…). I’m not totally comfortable on a bike (and slow). I keep trying to fall in love with running but so far it’s, at best, a tumultuous relationship (and I’m slow…). Oh…and the idea of figuring out logistics of transitions? Terrified me. But despite all that, the idea of putting all those difficult elements together seemed, dare I say, fun! So in a move that made absolutely no logical sense, I signed up for the Y Not Tri back in early May. I mentioned it on social media and then never spoke of it (or really thought about it) again. I finished up the semester, I went to the Philippines, I came home &  moved across town. Then the first week of this month I started feeling normal and human again…and realized the tri was the second week of July.

Originally I signed up for the 400m swim/6 mile bike/2 mile running. I figured I could do that with no additional training. And back in May, I COULD have. But two months, a couple of major events, and zero training later, I emailed the race director in a panic and asked to be moved to the shorter distance (exactly half the original). And then I began preparing…which consisted of a grand total of a ten minute open water swim at the race location 6 days before, a run through of the whole distance with a training group three days before and numerous panicked posts to the training group’s Facebook page throughout the entire week.

Surprisingly I slept just fine the night before. I think the run through on Tuesday helped make Saturday almost a non-issue…until I got there. Once I arrived at the race site, the nerves started to kick in a little bit. I met up with some of the people from the training group and promptly became BFFs with another woman doing the race for the first time. We set up our transitions together, we checked out the swim course together, we got marked up together, & listened to the race briefing & met up with other trainees together. Suddenly race morning went from intimidating to FUN.  Some other friends from my life were doing the longest distance and they were out there to encourage and boost me as well. Bianca gave me a huge hug and helped get the swim cap on my head. Lynette (my Ironman friend!) took pictures and reassured & encouraged me. And as I was scurrying down the path to the start (because I got distracted by last minute “good lucks”, hugs & high fives), I heard my name and turned to find a former co-worker (Drew) standing in the spectators. He would normally be out there racing but is currently injured. He heard I was doing it though and headed down to offer support. Seeing him was the biggest surprise of the day and gave me a huge boost of energy right before jumping in the water.

The swim start was surprisingly calm. We all chatted & joked around on the dock. Most of us jumped in a few minutes before the start to splash around, the race director yelled “GO!”…and we went. There was no chaos. It was a very polite, calm affair. We were pretty spread out but I found a good spot right between two people maintaining a pace I could match pretty easily until I couldn’t and then I side stroked for a few yards, rounding the first buoy and I wasn’t sure if I had been in the water forever or just a few minutes but my shoulders had quit muttering quite so intensely so I switched back to the front crawl and found people to match again. I don’t really remember rounding the last buoy. I do remember thinking I would not side stroke into the finish so I didn’t. I probably stopped a few strokes early and had to wade through chest deep water but on the other hand, I’m not sure that pond ever gets any more shallow. A volunteer helped pull me onto the crazy high step and then I was jogging down the lane, hearing my name here and there and all I could think was “I’m not dizzy!” and “Don’t put your helmet on backwards!” (Swim time: 9:28)

Transition went…as well as could be expected. I didn’t rush. I stayed standing to put on my socks & shoes and I’m not sure if that slowed me down or gave me a few extra seconds. Ultimately I don’t care. (T1 – 3:10) I jogged my bike to the mount line, stopped & got on. I haven’t even started to try & master the running mount. Given my level of grace and coordination, that will be a feat unto itself. I waved to Lynette and Drew who were already out on the course cheering for me, gave them thumbs up for pictures and headed out on the first lap. What is there to say about the bike course? It was flat. It was also the loneliest stage. There were stretches where no one was around to cheer and no one was nearby to cheer FOR (which I did whenever I saw a member of the training group or someone passed me.) I found a groove and decided to hold it but ended up with the beginnings of a cramp in my right quad and an extremely dry mouth. Lynette was waiting for me next to T2 and asked how I was feeling. All I could say was “I’m really thirsty.” Lessons learned on the bike: Learn to get to my water bottle while pedaling and work on evening out my pedaling. (Bike time: 21: 31 – Also, I need more strength.)

I don’t have a time for T2. It couldn’t have been too long. I switched my helmet for a hat, gulped way too much water,  grabbed my music, high fived Lynette and headed out. I jogged for a little bit, realized I was still horribly thirsty…and then both sides simultaneously cramped into the worst side stitches I’ve ever had. I slowed to a walk/limp and maintained that pretty much the whole course. I had one ear bud in but it was hot, my sides hurt, I was still more thirsty than I could remember ever being in my entire life and music was irritating me, not motivating. After the turn around (and more water), I tried to run a little bit but reverted back to my walk/limp when I started getting nauseous. I decided I WOULD cross the finish line running though. I glanced at the time as I came around the last bend and thought I was pushing the sixty minute mark for my total time. I had spent the past week saying I didn’t care about time but in truth, I wanted to come in under an hour – even without training that seemed reasonable – and I was going to be UPSET if I missed that by a few seconds. So I picked up the pace and tried to sprint my way across the line. (Tried being the key word). Lynette was on the other side of the fence, ready for her wave to start but waiting to cheer my finish. I remember touching her hand through the fence and hearing her say “You did it! You’re finished!” I don’t remember what I answered but I think she told me to go get water which sounded like the most brilliant plan in the world. I think I wished her good luck. I hope I did because she was amazing out there for me. I walked to the refreshments tent, gratefully took a bottle of water and a handful of grapes and realized that if I tried to eat anything else I WOULD throw up. I spotted Bianca and received a HUGE hug from her. I wandered a few minutes until I saw my BFF from that morning standing near some chairs in the shade. She didn’t know who they belonged to but I sank into one anyway. Coach Beth (from the training group) came by to check on me & offer congrats.  Within a few minutes Drew found me and commandeered the chair next to me. I was already feeling fine but we sat and chatted for a while until the owners’ of the chairs came back and nicely reclaimed them so they could leave. He said he thought my time was close to 50 minutes. I thought he was crazy but didn’t argue. Turns out my total time was 52:58 so in the future I should probably trust my people out on the course who are more aware of those details.

All in all it was as much fun and a little harder than I expected. (95+ degrees probably didn’t help either.) I’m already eyeing a sprint in the fall and have started considering what time I’m aiming for next year.  The activity itself is fun. But really it’s the community that elevates triathlon to such a great level. I had friends there and I can’t imagine doing this without them. People out on the course that I didn’t know encouraged and cheered me as I did them. Spectators I didn’t know, there for other participants, cheered for me. Sharing the details of the day and the giddiness of finishing with friends and training partners was not the icing on the cake, it was the cake. Getting to swim, ride & r…walk…that was the icing.

I’d like to thank….

This week I decided it would be fun to sign up for Run 4 Luv a local 5k that some of the other ladies from the Krav gym were doing.  Fun. An outside race. In February. In Boise Idaho. Where February is usually our most “winter-y” month. Oh…and did I mention? I’ve never actually run a full 5k. I’ve walked a few. And I’ve run/walked that distance a couple of times. But I’ve never run over 2 miles without walking. Maybe not even 1.5.

And it WAS fun. Even in the slushy snow & rain.


You can’t really tell it here, or maybe you can, but there is ice on that there trail. It was a little slick but not as bad as I expected honestly.

It was fun. And?  I RAN THE WHOLE FREAKIN THING. I didn’t run it fast. But I maintained good run form through the whole thing. I truly didn’t plan to. I was stoked. But I don’t think I would have without the people there. I ran with a woman named Ann who set our pace and kept me from starting out too fast and blowing up in the first mile. Her daughters are speedy quick but came back out to run in with us and cheer. Bianca was hilarious and encouraging (she’s why I signed up). She is faster but so laid back. Her hubby was out there for support.  Tracie, our coach, was there to high five us and encourage us as always. (And she ran the 10k…and none of us wanted her to “lap” us). Ashley came out to cheer. But the best part? My husband was there. He didn’t run. He drove me there so I didn’t have to stress about figuring out where I was going and where I would park. He carried a backpack so I (and everyone else in our group) had a place to leave extra gloves/hats/hoodies/whatever. I didn’t have to think about anything except putting one foot in front of the other. I really appreciate that he came out to stand in the rain and the cold just to support me/us.

Maybe I would have run the full thing if he hadn’t been there. But I don’t think I would have enjoyed it nearly as much. That sounds cheesy but knowing he would be at the end to cheer…and drive me home…made me relax. A lot. Having him there gave me an incredible sense of security. And that made the run even sweeter.


I recently considered giving up my morning cup of coffee (when I finish the current bag).

I’ll wait while you cleanse your monitor of whatever you just spewed onto it and/or pick yourself up off the floor.

Done? Okay.

I LOVE my morning cup of coffee. But I think I love the ritual of it, the comfort of easing into my day with a warm cup cradled in my hands more than the actual coffee. I don’t actually NEED it. A cup of water (or hot tea) and an apple would be much more beneficial as a morning kick start.

I’ve also casually kicked around the idea of trying a “paleo” style diet for a few months. I don’t necessarily agree that eating <insert your foods of choice> are to blame for (seemingly) recent explosion of food sensitives and allergies. Humans have been eating grains and beans and dairy for long enough and doing just fine that pinning our health woes on lectins or gluten or some other scapegoat bit of nutrition is a bit silly.

(DISCLAIMER: I understand that there are true food allergies out there. I understand that some people have genuine, debilitating reactions. I’m simply referring to a general simplified view and the tendency of SOME people – not all – to rabidly defend and promote a specific diet to the point of being annoying and/or offensive.)

I’ve never noticed a direct correlation between eating any of the above mentioned foods and anything negative in my body. However, I continue to find information linking gluten and lectins to inflammation and auto-immune issues. I don’t think there’s enough evidence to prove causality. But. With the history of auto-immune and inflammatory diseases in my family, I also don’t think it would HURT to eliminate those factors and see how my body reacts.

“Paleo” is a buzz word and a current hot trend, but at it’s core, it promotes eating real foods. It emphasizes fruits and green leafy vegetables and healthy meats. It eliminates sugar and fast food and processed food stuffs…all the stuff that we love so much but are what we should passionately blame for our health woes.

So I’m looking at a two – three month “experiment” at the first of the year. I’m not silly enough to try this in December. That’s just setting myself up for failure. (You know the Cranberry Bliss bars at St@rbucks? They’re *almost* divine except for being a bit too overwhelmingly sweet. But I have a copy-cat recipe that I’ve modified to make them, well, divine. And I only ever make them in December.) And this will be a big adjustment. For example, my go to lunch when I’m feeling overwhelmed/rushed/uncreative is a big bowl of rice, beans, salsa, corn & taco seasoning. I eat on it all week. But after the first of the year I will be able to eat…the salsa. My favorite breakfast of oatmeal? Buh-bye. I don’t say that to be negative. There are A LOT of foods available. My other favorite breakfast of diced potatoes, peppers and chicken sausage is perfectly acceptable, as is another favorite lunch of sweet potatoes & turkey or ham. But it will be an adjustment and I need a month to plan.

I’m not going to ask my family to do this. I’ll still make their brownies and home made bread and soups with beans. But I’ll need to know what to have available as my go to meals/snacks. I’ll need to be comfortable with some replacements (like “hummus” NOT made with chickpeas). It’s really a mental thing, a change in habits. But I do fully expect the first week or so to SUCK as my body adjusts.

I don’t really know what to expect overall. Maybe I’ll love it and want to continue. Maybe not. But right now? I get to peruse new recipes!

How to know you’re cooked

I only rode my bike to work twice this week. Monday and yesterday. The only other day I COULD have ridden was Tuesday and…I didn’t. I don’t remember if I slept late or what. I went to yoga so I couldn’t have slept THAT late. Regardless. In every other instance I’ve really considered if (a) this trip really needs to be made and (b) could alternate transportation be utilized. That’s resulted in a wee bit of extra walking this week. I had Tuesday afternoon off. So after I drove my car home (hangs head), TheKid and I walked to a pizza place approximately .6 miles from our house.

Side note! For the past 7 years or so I have not run much. I will do several miles at a time but it’s alternating walking & running. And that’s not BAD for general health. It’s great in fact. But I have a goal to run a 5k in October. Run. No walking. Which means that training needs to be focused on reducing walk time and increasing run endurance.  In that vein, Jon challenged me to meet him at the Y Tuesday afternoon and run a mile. No walk breaks. Run.

So. Tuesday. TheKid and I walked to lunch. And then I looked at how far the Y was from our house. Per G00gle maps, it’s 3.1 miles.

I.E. a 5k. Well. Isn’t that convenient.

We walked it. My GPS said we covered 3.6 miles. So we’ll assume it’s something between 3 & 3.5 miles. Not important.

A little while later Jon got there and we ran our mile. Easily. I could’ve kept going but going home (in my husband’s nice air conditioned truck) sounded more appealing.

Wednesday was uneventful. I lifted weights but felt tired so I took the rest of the day easy.

Yesterday I rode my bike to work then went to Piyo Strength where we started a new routine…one that included a killer leg sequence that left even our Ironman finisher grimacing. When I left yesterday afternoon, my heart rate was 111 before I even got out of the parking lot and 150 at the BASE of the hill. For what it’s worth, I still managed to shave 2 minutes off my fastest time getting home. There was a guy walking his bike up the hill and I was determined to catch and pass him. And smile and wave when I did. Because I was RIDING. I was NOT going to be slower than someone walking.

I did pass him.

I waved.

I think my smile was more of a grimace.

TheKid and I walked to the store after I got home for dinner supplies. It’s only about a mile. And we went slowly, while we talked & laughed & threatened to shove each other into the canal.

This morning I barely eeked out 500 yards in the pool.

Between my heart rate yesterday afternoon and my complete inability to propel myself through a calm pool that I had completely to myself, I think it’s safe to say that I’m tired. (My husband pulled off fourteen miles of a strenuous hike yesterday so I’m sure he’s shaking his head right now.)

I have no idea what I’m doing this weekend.

That’s a lie.

I know what I WANT to do. I told TheKid we’d go on a bike ride if we could get the other bike ready & pick him up a helmet. I want to swim a mile Sunday. I would love to ride my bike to church (just under 10 miles) but I might just ride with my husband. Because I need to run. NEED. Not only for training purposes but because I’m terribly curious to know how that mile on the treadmill is going to translate onto a non-moving surface. My suspicion is painfully but I’m going to find out. That’s my top priority followed closely by some sort of activity with TheKid…assuming he’s not hanging out with his youth leader or girlfriend. Which means I’d better start making plans without him.

I should probably check the forecast for tomorrow though because right now, my top TOP priority is turning my alarm off for tomorrow morning.

Get on your bikes and ride!

When TheKid and I lived in Indy, I used my bike a lot. We resided in a fairly large apartment complex so I picked up an older bike trailer someone was giving away and used that to go to the laundry room and grocery store across the road. However, we lived about 20 miles from my office. It wasn’t exactly a bike friendly place anyway. And then my bike was stolen.

Now we live in a very bike friendly town.  Lots of people use bikes as their primary transportation, lots more ride regularly for recreation. There are lots of paths and wide shoulders and trails. Right after I moved out here my husband bought me a bike. And as of two years ago, we live 2 miles from my office. About a month ago I insisted I wanted to start bike commuting to work so he bought me a helmet, portable pump & lock. Because of our schedule (ie having to be somewhere shortly after I get off work), I’m only riding 2-3 days a week. But I get to see views like these:

The morning commute makes the heat of the afternoon ride worth it. I’d like to get to a point where I put more miles on my bike than my car every week. Baby steps!

I have not been living this…

I should have read this yesterday*. I might not have laid on the couch all night. Granted I felt pretty crappy…still do…but I was still being exceedingly lazy.

From “The Art of Expressing The Human Body” (about Bruce Lee)

“Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” –and we’re still running-”if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”


*(Originally found at Blog of Impossible Things

Volleyball, first match

Before we left for volleyball last night, I tossed out the comment “I mean – how bad can it be, right?” Jon proceeded to tell me about a volleyball player who ended up with a compound fracture….and the prospect of ending up with bones sticking out of my leg was actually more appealing to me than making a public fool of myself and tanking my team.

I tell you that to give you an idea the extent of my nerves/my state of mind.

Turns out, I wasn’t the best on the team but neither was I noticeably the worst. I wasn’t nearly as aggressive as I should have been. I stood back too far from the net. I missed a lot of hits and sent others bombing wildly. I also made some good hits, was the only one to not screw up a serve (although one came CLOSE) and even had a really decent serving run.

We lost two out of three sets. We also only had five people to put on the court, and the most recent anyone had played was last season.

Most importantly – we had fun. By the end we were starting to loosen up, communicate and get into a rhythm.

Our next game is tomorrow night and we should have six players there.  And this time – no nerves; just excitement.