She's BACK

And good grief am I tan.

Wow.

I had a great time on vacation and am both happy to be back and sad, all at the same time.  There were some low points (a dent in my new car, an iced cappuccino exploding on a public bathroom stall, a too late arrival at my sprint this morning), but a million high points to make up for them.

I kept very active (one 30 mile ride, a number of runs, a TON of walking, and lots of local riding) and hit the pillow exhausted each night.  I also changed my first flat.  Seriously.  All by myself.

Incidentally, you guys write a lot.  I have over 1000 blog posts to catch up on.  That's three zeros.  Goodness sakes.  This is going to take a while, you know.

Right now, though, I'm exhausted.  I've been up since 4 and drove almost 4 hours already.  (My attempt at leaving early enough to get to my race, which sadly did not work.)  I'm literally going to take a nap.  At 10:30 in the morning.

Because today is still officially vacation.

In an attempt to not be so darn negative

(a) I've lost weight.  Anywhere from 3-5 pounds, depending on whether you catch me before or after running in the sweatbox that is called outside. Baby freaking steps, people!  Plus, my abs hurt.  That has to be good, right?

(b) I'm going on vacation next week.  As in the entire week of next week.  I can't hardly wait.  I've already made my packing list.  It's three pages long.  This vacation is going to rock.

(c) I'm sandwiching my vaca with joy.  First, a 50 miler bike ride which conveeeniently is on the way to the beach (ahem, sorry...the shore) the first Saturday.  To top it off, my last day is a sprint tri that is very conveeeniently on my way home.  (Okay, kind of.)  In between, I tan.

(d) I'm still getting married in, like, 3 freaking months.  Oh good lord.

(e) Soon after the wedding, Facebook and I are going to have a love child.  Wait a second... .

(f) Coffee exists.  So does Tylenol PM.  Enough said.

(g) Did I mention I was going on vacation?  Oh.  Well, I am.

Nonsense

Alright.

Good thing THAT pitty party train has left the station.

Whew.

Feeling a little better now. Thanks for the nice comments and kicks in the balls I received through email. Both worked. I have tuned back into the channel where my life is actually grand and lovely and full of grace and wisdom. Me loves this channel.

Let's get a little random, here. M'kay?

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There's some weird thing going on at the house across the street. The house across the street, where Mighty M and I are convinced the "nice guy" who lives there who we rarely see and who backs his car all the way up to the garage each and every time is actually unloading dead bodies into his home. Or into his car. Either way, suspicious.

Every 2 minutes, a buzzer goes off. Not softly, mind you. As in I can hear it in the freaking shower across the street, behind lots of brick and glass and doors and stuff.

Two days now, mind you. Two full days. Every two minutes. Every two minutes.

Thank goodness for air conditioners, fans, the tv, and melatonin.

<><><>

I have continued on my quest to be the most fickle and impulsive bride there ever was. No, not trading in my groom. But things with the wedding dress continue to evolve.

Actually, the evolution has been halted this week, but my FMIL thinks I'm crazy. Everyone else would, too, but I haven't told them yet.

Shhh.

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There is absolutely nothing more satisfying than going for a run in the pouring rain.

There is absolutely nothing more surprising than looking down and realizing you're wearing a white shirt and a white jog bra.

There is absolutely nothing more welcomed than turning around that very moment and seeing Mighty M drive up on his way home from work, ready and willing to give you and your corruption of minors getup a ride.

<><><>

When you get a development and marketing nerd together with a graphic design nerd to "proof" their wedding invitations, expect a lot of edits.

A lot.

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The mid-atlantic states have dried up of all Olympic distance races that I can race in August or September. There's like none. A ton of sprints, just no Olympics that fit with the your-life-is-dictated-by-the-wedding calendar.

Sprints it is. As many as I can get.

<><><>

I continue to have trouble getting up in the morning. I'm convinced there is a lazy gene that is only expressed when you introduce sugar free chocolate pudding and salt and pepper popcorn into one's diet. Separately, of course.

<><><>

I've gained two pounds on the pudding and popcorn diet described above. I feel like I've gained 10. I've done the math and it doesn't work out. It never does.

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I've put a new sprint distance on my calendar for August 17th. Actually, to be more accurate, a sprint distance I've always planned on doing has managed to remain on the calendar, even after repeated attempts of my so-called-life to intervene.

In related news, my sister the all knowing maid of honor has planned a cool Beach-lorette weekend for me and the girls in September. Seems there's a tiny little sprint right there, that very Saturday morning.

These poor bridesmaids. Think I can convince them all to come? Bonus point to get them in the water.

<><><>

I could go on forever like this. I should never consider Twitter. It would be as bad as facebook. (By the way, I'm a fan of the new layout. You? Discuss amongst yourselves.)

Instead, I'm going to opt for something productive. Coffee has finally kicked in. Freaking popcorn gene.

Boring

Insomnia is boring, my friends.

There are only so many times you can check facebook for notifications of old friends from whenever, there are only so many times you can check your emails (three of them!), only so many times you can flip through blogs.

Seems I'm one of the few posting new stuff at midnight.

Le sigh.

This is the end of a long week of insomnia.  And I'm bored.

But I did get out for a run tonight, as Nana is stabilized at the hospital.  The run was only 35 minutes, but pain free for a solid 30.

I'll take it.

Baby steps to the elevator.

On deck tomorrow is 2:45 ride.  Gatorade is in the fridge (btw, why did Acme stop selling my Accelerade??  Huh??  I certainly bought enough of the damned stuff there!) and the bike is ready to go.  Bringing out some little bags of red swedish fish to switch it up a bit -- we'll see how all this sugar sits.  

Plan is to head out to Ephrata and find that hill I've heard so much about.  From the looks of it, the coming back might hand me some pain.  But I miss the pain of a solid bike.  

Time to try some sleep again.  Hopefully some better luck this time... .

Excuse me?

When I looked at the lady,
behind the counter at Desert Moon,

and casually thought, mmmm tofu quesadillas,
which somehow translated into,

"Two tofu quesadillas, please,"
when I opened my unsuspecting mouth,

what exactly was I thinking?

((food coma))

The Guilts

Yesterday, while everyone was racing their dreams in Idaho, I was sitting on my rump in Pennsylvania. Saturday we babysat our lovely nieces (the best little nuggets ever) and I managed to pull something in my hip area somewhere on the playground.

I'm not too worried about it, but the ache remained on Sunday when I moved my right leg, so my ride and run were off the schedule. And since we were at the hospital and babysitting on Saturday (both unexpected events), my weekend was a big goose egg on training.

Which I'm not totally worried about, because this week will be strong and so was last week.

But for some reason, more than one day off puts me in a funk. Not just off from training, but "off," in the purest sense of the word. Yesterday Mighty M and I let sleeping laundry lie, transplantable plants sit, and the vacuum have some quiet time in the corner. Aside from important family time and a massive trip to the g'store (and subsequent veggie and herb prepping and storing), I was hugely unproductive.

And as nice as that sounds, it never sits well with me.

Doing nothing makes me CRANKY.

I just don't feel like I'm a good person after days like that! I know, sounds terribly dramatic, but the thing is that I need my daily routines of errands and training to keep me feeling like I'm participating in life.

Maybe it's like state-dependent learning. I spent lots of idle time when I was younger because I could and, in some sense, I had to. And as I grew older, that idle time grew less...how you say...pleasant.

So, now downtime gives me The Guilts, big time.

You know...that vague feeling you get that you didn't do something or you forgot to finish something or let someone down...but you can't just put your finger on it? And you feel weird and off kilter and distracted? Yeah, The Guilts.

And The Guilts make me cranky. And snapish. And give me insomnia. And make me eat Special K and popsicles after bedtime.

Me no likes.

So right now, my goal is to move in the opposite direction so I don't mope my way through the day and pick a fight with Mighty M when I get home. Cause the risk is high, my friends. The risk is high.

Step one...caffeinate until my eyeballs float. Then nail some longstanding work projects, finish up a couple grant reports, apply for two more, check in on my banking, and quite possibly sell my first wedding dress.

Bring on the Dunkin Donuts!

Run Ning

Um. Seems I've been tagged.

I don't usually do tags (how pretentious does THAT sound!), but it's really just because I'm woefully bad at posting on something within, ya know, like three years of it actually happening.

Unless it has to do with food. Then I post immediately.

But since I hearts Erin and I've been focusing on solving my run issues this year, I thought I'd jump on this wagon. Or catch this train. Or look for an appropriate running metaphor.

(whatev)

So, without further adieu...

1. How would you describe your running 10 years ago?

Running? Ten years ago? (Cough, cough) Sorry, I got something caught in my throat. It might have been a box of wine or a carton of cigarettes. (COUGH) Okay, it's gone.

What were you saying? Ah yes, my running at 24. Let's see, at 24 I was a fresh face in Philadelphia, having just moved there from the DC area and following a disastrous break up with 30-something adolescent and the death of my Mom the year before. Having just started an excellent new job with my best friend working down the hall, living in my FAHbulous apartment that came with free mice and permanent risk of break-in, and a lot of nervous lonely time to fill, I spent much of my time, well...away. Out. Doing "things." I went out all the time with friends. I would dine (and drink) alone to pass the nights without plans. I ate very little and weighed very little, too. I wore leather pants. I could hang longer than most of the guys. I played a mean game of pool and knew every bartender in the Art Museum area personally. I was a size 4 hottie with a fancy party life and disastrous emotional life. Great to hang out with, but seriously, dude, not one to date.

Don't get me wrong. It was fun. For sure. But it was also taxing. Physically, emotionally, financially. While my well adjusted friends found well adjusted partners and married and moved on, I continued to search...for something.

And I had no idea yet part of it might be found in running. Not a clue.

So, me? Running? Ten years ago? Pshaw. Pass the chardonnay and I'll meet you at Rembrandt's at 8.

2. What is your best and worst run/race experience?

I'm going to stick with my best, because I'm feeling all positive like today.

My best run may have been my first half marathon. I had no idea how momentous the day was going to be because I was incredibly naive about all things sport. I had signed up for a trail run that was NOTORIOUS for kicking people's arses up one side of a mountain and down another. I've since gone back for more pain, but it was my first experience on this course. And I was blissfully unaware.

But it wasn't just that I didn't realize what thousands of feet of climb feels like over 13+ miles. I didn't know what 13 miles felt like. Most people do their first half mary in a formal way, with chips and spectators, carrying signs. And maybe a training plan. I had just signed up to do a cool trail run I read about on a flier at the gym, and since I had been hitting 9, 10, or 11 mile runs during the week I figured doing 13 would be no big leap.

Such. A. Fool.

I totally finished that day. I barely made the cutoff at the halfway point, but I slugged it out through craggy, rock infested paths and across fields, and up the random 100 stairs that "help" hikers make their way through the woods. I completely and utterly thrashed my legs. Upon arriving home, still relatively naive about recovery and nutrition, I layed face-down down on the floor in the living room to "rest." Ten minutes later I was dizzy and nauseaus with low blood sugar and seeing spots. What a rookie.

I have no idea what my time was. I don't give a darn, to this day. As with many things, I just randomly crashed into my first half mary sideways without much thought or planning. But it remains one of my best runs ever.

3. Why do you run?

I run because I don't want to die.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!

But it's honestly the reason I do. My mom died at 51 years old. Fifty-one years old. She had little choice about it in the end -- it was a cancer she had staved off for eleven years. Eleven years. So she only had 40 years of disease free life.

I'm 34. You do the math.

And, while it may sound dramatic to most (unless you've lost a parent young, then you'll totally understand), I expect to die early and from cancer. I do. When you spend your entire youth and young adult life linking CANCER to MORTALITY, it tends to affect your own predictions of your own life.

I could get hit by a bus or a car. I could drown. I could leave this earth many ways, but I don't expect those ends. I expect that I will leave too early and because of cancer.

So, I put a lot of energy today into removing that possibility from my future. No smoking and no drinking. Whole foods and lots of sleep. LOTS of exercise. Because I'm doing everything possible now to stick around as long as possible for my children. Yup, the one's I haven't had yet. Because I love them to bits and pieces and I don't ever want them to parse out their emotions on mortality and longevity, personal responsibility and loss, at 13 years old. I want them to remain blissfully unaware of the fear of loss.

So each and every time I run in a race and come in dead freaking last (which is often), I consider it a victory. I'm doing everything I can to be alive at 80. So see my children trip and fall their way through their own adult lives and chuckle with Mighty M about how we were like that one day a long, long time ago.

There you have it. I run so I won't die.

4. What is the best or worst piece of advice you’ve been given about running?

The best piece of advice I've heard about running -- and, frankly, pretty much every unpleasant training activity -- is to get out of my own damn way.

You blog? You read blogs? You've heard that everywhere. I know it, because I've read it everywhere. But it's damned powerful stuff.

I get in my way all the time. I spent a DECADE of my life bouncing around so fast I couldn't slow down enough to achieve my own potential. I bartered and cajoled myself into and out of just plain doing it -- the test, the promotion, the relationship, the future.

And I held on hard to that habit with triathlon and running. For every run, ride, or swim I had a million reasons why I didn't want to, I couldn't, or I shouldn't. I mapped out scenarios of well laid excuses to pave my way to the lazy alternatives. I resisted so much. I got in my own way.

Soon I figured out my why of resisting -- why I tried to pull out early or accept the shorter/easier alternative. And once I did, it became easier to get out of my own way. Soon, with a little insight, I started adding to the picture a little acknowledgment ("Of course you don't want to get out of bed to swim, because you know it's unpleasant and you could just roll over and 'forget' you had that 3,000 swim planned for today") and the good kind of denial ("Ha ha, that's funny how you're so damned predictable. Now get the hell out of bed, beyotch. It's time to HTFU!").

Don't get me wrong...the dark side wins sometimes, too. Last night I opted for a dinner out instead of my run. But I'm wiser now, so this morning I listened to the inner voice that got me out of bed for an AM make-up run.

Cause now I try to get out of my own way.

5. Tell us something surprising about yourself that not many people would know.

I'm terribly neurotic about certain things, while others can lay in waste on the side of my attention span. The fridge, for example. The fridge needs to be organized. There is a place for everything in my fridge, and it better damn site be in its place! The bed is another good example. I cannot stand an unmade bed! (My father just cheered outloud on that one!) I have to make the bed every day, with the corners tucked and the sheet smoothed. I secretly believe that Mighty M's only character flaw is that he is unable (or unwilling? huh? you be the judge...) to make a bed properly. Or, like, ever. And while we're in the bedroom, I can have a pile of dirty laundry in the corner, but the top of my dresser MUST be orderly and clean. The perfume bottles must be aligned properly and there should be no dryer sheets/random hair ties/handkerchiefs/assorted crap there. Incidentally, it's funny to actually look at our dresser because Mighty M does not ascribe to this neurosis. No need to draw a line down the middle, it's pretty clear already.

Other things keep me just shy of crazy, like folding laundry properly, keeping a mess-free car and purse, and having my coffee made just right in the morning.

But I like my kind of crazy. It works, you know? Anyway, what's 40 more years of making the bed?

6. Passing it on.

This is where I will fall flat on my face. Because I'm not passing it on. I know! I'm a total stick in the mud! Shoot me! Actually don't. But at least give me a break. I deserve one...I made the bed this morning.

An update...on me

So.

It's been a nutty couple of days. (Weeks? Yes, weeks. That's more accurate.)

Here's where I am...

In life...
...I'm holding steady. Spending time with loved ones and my man, much more than in years past. Dialing back on the training has left lots of time for me to just, well, be. And that's nice. Mighty M said one day to me, "We only get to enjoy this once." And he's so right. Reach out and grab for it, it only comes around once.

At home...
...currently our little abode is landscaped (woot!) with pretty juniper plants in handmade flower boxes and there's a sturdy and growing herb garden in pots all over the back deck. Twice this week I've made dinner using herb I plucked from the porch. That was fun. Also, after toiling for HOURS in a windowless, 100* bathroom we have a pretty navy blue bathroom that's very fancy. We love it. And I love that it'll be a nice looking detail for future buyers.

In training...
...I'm finding I have talents I really didn't realize before. For example. This weekend, I had a long bike on the calendar so I headed out towards Honeybrook on 322 for my standard rolling hill ride. No crazy climbs, but a nice steady up and down to keep the legs honest. After warming up for a little, I started to challenge myself. Tried to get through some of the hills with smart gearing and staying in the big ring. And you know what? I did a hellova sight better than I ever would have thought. Last year, I struggled on these hills in my granny gear. I don't have a granny gear anymore, and I don't need one either. I have seriously improved as a cyclist. Seriously. I have to thank the Elf for her guidance over the winter, because I know that's where a lot of it was borne. But it also says to me that I need to push myself a little more than I usually do. I have more to offer. I'm underestimating my abilities. I may actually be a solid cyclist after all. Who knew?

...also on the training front is my running. The new neutral shoes are helping. I'm still having pain at the end of long runs, but it's getting later and later in the run. This says to me I have a working combination of stretching, strengthening, and shoe choice, but I need to get more run focus in. I'm focusing my efforts on a number of shorter (30 - 45 minute) runs each week, and at least one longer run (1:15 - 1:45). So far, I think it's working. Yeah!

...and just to be fair, I've been kind of a slacker in the pool. For the past two weeks I've gone twice...total. Ugh. Not good. I have to keep the consistency up on this. My next race has a mile swim -- nothing I'm worrying about, but something that has enough teeth to tap my energy for the bike/run. Gotta get to the pool and put my time in.

In re: nuptuals...
...this has been an interesting experience to say the least. The most surprising parts? First, that it's so very lonely to plan a wedding at my age and in my circumstances. My bridesmaids are flung across the East coast and busy with their own lives, so planning is a pretty solo affair. Not having my own Mom alive has been difficult. There's just something about having that person there for you, willing and eager to plan every detail and every moment of the day. I am so very, very lucky to have my FMIL in my life. She's played such a large role in getting ready for the wedding and tempered much of those lonely feelings. I love her dearly for giving me that solace, and that constant ear for concerns and words of advice.

...Also, it seems the year has rushed by. We're getting married in 5 months. FIVE MONTHS!! Holy wow. I'm on track with everything, but now things start moving fast. Big purchases, big deposits, major projects. Invites, limos, bridal showers, bachelorette party, flowers, ribbons, gifts, etc. Let me tell you something, peeps. I plan parties for a living...it's my JOB. And I can tell you from a professional's point of view that planning a wedding it an unenviable role. Be nice to your brides to be. They are working harder than you think. Yes, it's fun and cute to poke fun at their concerns about minutia and constant guest list questions...but at the end of the day everyone else just shows up and enjoys the party. It's the bride who is responsible for making sure that it's seamless. Give her a break. Throw some compassion her way. And maybe a gift certificate for a massage. Even the pros may need one.

In love...
...yup, still there. So little else to say other than he makes me want to live forever, as long as he's right next to me.

You know when, like...

You know when, you know, you do the same motions over and over again (like say for instance bending down or leaning over to idonno...take something off someone's ankle) and the next day you're, you know, kinda sore.

You know how they say it's the second day when you really will feel it?

You know what?






Tomorrow's going to suck.

Eagleman, and how to find me (or, at least my legs)

I'm convinced this is the most egotastic post I've put up on the blog so far. (That is, of course, taking into account that the blog is by its very definition a hugely egotastic endeavor.)

But, if for any reason you'd be interested in me marking you in nice pretty numbers and letters (and, yes, they DID give us a sheet of guidelines!) for your Eagleman race, I will be happy to oblige.

Armed with a sharpie, I'll be with the other dozen or so volunteers wearing the volunteer garb and our comfiest of comfy shoes. (It's going to be a long day, after all.)

BUT, unlike my fellow volunteers, I'll have "IM" emblazoned on my left calf and "ABLE" emblazoned on my right calf.

And yes, I realize how difficult this is going to be to explain when I wear a skirt to work next week and it's still there.

So watch for my gams and come and introduce yourself. M'kay? And if you're there and feeling nauseas with nerves and anti-social with your game face on and not in the mood to be meeting and greeting? Totally cool, too. Just promise to race a good race and be safe out there.

AND, if you have any plans on finishing in lightening speeds (ahem, Liz, this means you), I'll also be at the finish line from 10 - 12. So for all you fasties out there, can't wait to make sure you (a) don't need a medic, and (b) don't walk off with your chip.

So, see everyone there and someone, please, BRING COFFEE!

I'm totally effed

I just discovered this.


I blame Nicole.

Yes you, Nicole. I blame you.

And my sister.

Nobody warned me.

I fear the worst.



(wanna be my friend?)

You know how, like...

You know how, like, sometimes you do so much swimming that you keep thinking about fishies and you somehow convince yourself that because your turning into a fishie you get to go out for a $50 sushi lunch even though you don't really have $50 in the budget for a lunch?

Yeah.

Me, too.

Throwin' this out there

I just want to throw this out there.

I'm having a killer day.

And, frankly, aside from the horrible scab of a woman running water aerobics two nights ago at the pool who ruined my swim and day...ASIDE from her... I'm having a pretty killer week.

You know.

Cause last week's "rest week" was fabulous. And magical. And left me feeling rested and confident even with two LT tests thrown in there (like I wouldn't notice or somefin).

Cause my nice little doctor prescribed me a nice little pill called L*nesta that may be my solution to my NOTSONICE little issue with insomnia, that incidentally had an awful lot to do with my not so nice little habit of sleeping in instead of hitting the pool before work. But I digress.

Cause my body DID arise from the warm bed this morning (gasp) on time to get to the (gasp) nearly empty pool in which I swam a nice little set of 2300 drill and form.

Cause I managed to do -- for the very first time evah -- a length of the pool on one breath. And not just for kicks and giggles -- because the Elf told me to do it. (I may not have conquered all six of them, but I did conquer at least ONE.)

Cause my abs hurt. And my back hurts. And my hammies and butt. And (ironically) only one side of my groin. But they all hurt...in a good way. In a "that functional strength routine sure makes you work" way. The good way way.

Cause I'm finally going to the grocery store tonight to fill up all of those empty spaces on the shelves of my poor fridge. Homemade veggie soup with toasted cheese bread anyone?

Cause I'm hitting my sessions and not feeling strained or overwhelmed or anything...which, considering this week at work, is a massive accomplishment.

and

(somewhat unrelated)

Cause I have already bought my wedding dress, hired a photographer, hired a DJ, rented a venue, picked out all my flowers, picked out my bridesmaids dresses, decided on the favors and a candy table and found some special touches for the wedding. Yeah. The one that's 10 months away. I freaking love doing things ahead of time. Planning rocks.

: : SO : :

That's all. Just had to mention. Today is good.

Yawn

I'm tired.

No. Check that.

I'm exhausted.

Last night, Mighty M and I were at his birthday dinner and I honestly wondered -- out loud -- whether someone had put a sedative in my salad.

It's come to that.

I suspected clandestine doping via salad.

Right now, I'm practically falling asleep at my desk, even though I had no workout this morning and have had a delicious large Dunkin Donuts coffee in the wee hours and a cup of hot orange pekoe tea with lunch.

:: yawn ::

And yet, I am still exhausted. Like in my bones tired.

Here's the thing. I think I know, why I'm so dang tired. And probably the frequent instinct to nosh that I have. And the animalistic attraction to anything nearby that contains calories. Anything. Please. Feed me.

I'm ignoring the changes. I've just been waltzing through my days, following a solid training plan that has me doing intervals and power sessions and lifting and a whole ton of stuff I never used to do.

I'm burning a lot of freaking calories. I'm burning a lot of freaking energy. I'm practically a freaking pink bunny who wears her sunglasses at freaking night.

Yet, every day I still eat the same stuff and go to bed at the same time.

I used to be good at math. Clearly I now suck at it.

I'm simply not being smart. I have to start getting more sleep. I have to start bringing more food to the office. I have to start acting like I'm in training in all aspects of my life.

Tonight, I'm in the pool for an hour and then home for an hour bike. Then I eat my chicken and broccoli AND GO THE HECK TO BED.

Immediately.

Do not pass go, do not collect money to pay for your new cadence wire, and DO NOT stop in the home office to check your emails and read a few blogs or so.

Just go the heck to bed.

...

Recovery and fuel. Tag words for this week.

Recovery and fuel.

Pay attention, Able.

:: yawn ::

Is it nap time yet?

Ah, the holidays

Well.

There you have it.

My holiday season is. Done. D.o.n.e. Done. Whew.

What a whirlwind!

Leading up, there was much running to and fro for this perfect gift here and that matching wrapping paper there. (Yes, we match our paper...shut up!) And the food making and packing, oh my! My work is very busy right before the holidays because community partners will 'adopt' our client families and I coordinate this process. Heartwarming? Yes. A complicated mash of preferences, schedules and questions? ABSOLUTELY.

By the time I made it to Williamsburg, I was exhausted. But happy. And the holiday was full of cookies (AND MORE COOKIES SO MANY COOKIES OMG THERE WERE SO MANY COOKIES!) and family and nosogreat eating and ...

... well ...

not as much training as I had hoped for. Ah, well. Hopefully one week worth of fledgling activity will not undo all the work of November and December.

But tonight, it's back on the training wagon with a trip to the pool for a killer set, including a fun looking 100-200-300-400-500 ladder that will keep me busy. I need to make a point to write some more about my swimming, because I'm really (REALLY) enjoying it and actually (gasp!) getting better!

For now, though, I'm focusing on the half emptied suitcase in the living room, making my training on time and doing well, getting some actual food in non-cookie form into the house, and cleaning up the inevitable holiday mess that happens when you take three days off from the office.

Onward and upward, my friends!

Did ya miss me?

Okay, folks.

I'm back.

And even though I'm sure that I have only, like, three people who still read my blog, I kind of miss writing here. Not that the vacation hasn't been fun...cause it has.

But, for the sake of my future marriage, I think I should blog again.

Cause Mighty M may just kill me if I don't.

No, don't get me wrong. He doesn't READ this anymore...nah, he gave that up a while ago. I could divulge his deepest secrets here and he have no idea until someone randomly came up to him and pointed accusingly at a race next year.

No, it's more like I talk too much. WAAAAAAAY too much. And now it's not just about triathlon. Now it's about weddings AND triathlon. And Mighty M is breaking under the pressure.

So I'm going to need to get some of this out in blogging again. Beats payin' for therapy.

So. Things I've been meaning to say and haven't yet....

(1) I've decided that swim paddles are like cocaine for pool rats. The moment you put them on you're bigger, faster, stronger, and will nevereverever stop swimming. The down side? The moment you take them off you have T-Rex arms that barely drag you down the lane any faster than a sea slug. Paddle hangover, I guess.

(2) Cadence is all relative. All relative. When I started up with prep for my 2008 season, I thought 95 rpms as a "warm up" for 20 minutes was some crazy fast nutty stuff I should only do on the trainer outside of the watchful eye of the public. Now? 115 and I are friends. FRIENDS. Go figure.

(3) Single legged drills? Still suck.

(4) I've decided to get my own custom designed shirt for racing next year. People tell me all the time that I wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm an open book. (Apparently, I'm also a walking metaphor.) So I've decided on the coolest of coolest designs for a new custom race jersey. I'll reveal it dramatically at a later date. As in the later date when I have time to just put the graphic into electronic form. I'm a weeetle slow like that.

(5) I've decided to take my writing to a new level. I had a very sad loss recently -- a friend who I will dearly, dearly miss. And in my sadness, I have been searching for a way to manage this loss and convert it to something useful, for myself and others. I don't do many things well, but I know my way around a paragraph. So I've decided to turn sadness into words in a big way. A very big way. More to come for this, but it has been on my mind for weeks now.

(6) I'm still training...a bunch. My coach has been building me up slowly from the bottom and I'm starting to feel -- really feel -- the change in my confidence levels. I'm simply stronger in the pool and stronger on the bike. My running comes easier, too. And that's never happened before. I always tend to have one hiccup each week that messes with the schedule, but I'm being really good about sticking to the plan. And it's paying off. More to come on that, but it's all good.

and,

(7) I'm still getting married. (YEAH FOR ME!!) I'm still in total bliss and gush over Mighty M each day. Our future is so full of hope and joy, I can barely contain my excitement. It's exhausting, of course, finding the right place and managing the budget. I mean, who knew that photographers were that much money? My budget is good on some things and baaaaad on others. We'll figure it out, but the planning is an emotional minefield. So far, no major explosions...well, there was that one, but let's just not talk about it. Cause WE'RE GETTING MAHWEED!!

Okay, that's all from here. More thoughtful, non-bulleted writing to come. But for now, just know I'm back and thinking up crazy things to say here while Mighty M absorbs every second of televised hockey at his disposal.

Takin' to Vacatin'

Okay, folks. I've decided to do something. Take a vacation. An el vacaTIOne.

From blogging.

:(

Sad, I know. But I've got sooo much stuff going on right now -- what with the engagement and getting into the swing of training and whatnot -- that I'm finding it hard to find time to blog.

And, frankly, my blogs have been a wee bit blah recently. I'm not feeling inspired at all, ya know? Prolly just need some time off from the keyboard.

So, I'll keep updating everyone on my training each week by the numbers AND I'll keep reading what you're throwing out there...but I'm forcing my hands and attention elsewhere. Just for a bit. Maybe a week, maybe a month. Who knows.

See ya'll soon!

Faaaahbulous Friday!

Someone thinks I'm faaaahbulous. And, since it's Friday and I am wearing a fancy new outfit and just picked up A FANCY NEW BIKE (!!!), I'm going to concur.

I am.

And so are these ladies...

Dying Water Buffalo, because honesty and vulnerability in writing is a rare gift, and she certainly has it.

Meggan Ann, because she's going to rock the Philly Marathon with grit and determination.

The Big Bad KBB, because she gets poop jokes, can dress fancy like a girl, and is not afraid to tell it like it is.

Siren, because she hearts triathlon more than most bloggers out there. Plus, she just tethered her dog to a baby carriage so she can run after her little nugget arrives. That, my friends, is dedication!

Laurie, because she's the most AMAZING cheering squad any triathlete could hope to have, hands down.

IronMin, because she stepped up for Wisconsin and is going to lay it all out there, which (of course) reminds me so much of my last winter. Cheer her on, guys!

(okay, i'm still in the "I" section of my reader...this may be a long one!!)

Jenny, because she's nurturing and adventurous and honest and a simply lovely person.

Nytro, because...well, duh. Read her blog.

Mishele, because seeing her cheering on my run up the Helix after the swim in Wisconsin was so darned fun!

Momo, because she never fails to leave comments that are just so right on. And her feet pictures.

Turtle, because she has worked so hard for her IMFL goal and I'm so darned excited for her!

Megan, because she's that cool and is falling in love with day old cheese. Who wouldn't love that?

Tea, because she just simply rocks. Rock. Star.

Stronger, because she offers up her heart and soul for everyone and asks nothing in return.

TriSaraTops, because she's a baby-making iron machine.

And, of course,

Bold, because what other man could handle such a bevy of faaaahbulous babes??

Big Decisions, Bold Decisions

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

I've been making some crazy CRAZY decisions over here in AbleLand. And I can't even BEGIN to tell you how excited I am about them.

The first...my birthday present to myself. She's beautiful. And feels amazing. And it waiting for pedals at my new favorite shop, and then she's mine, all mine. And I love her.



And then there's the dash of crazy that I've added to my life. I can't reveal yet who...but I think I may have myself a coach. AN HONEST TO GOODNESS COACH. And I can barely contain myself, because this is my pre-season gauntlet, thrown down as a challenge. I want to get strong. I want to get fast. And I know exactly who can help me make that happen...

I'll tell you more about who when I get confirmation.

And trust me...you'll want to pee your pants, too!

People...this next season will rock. I can feel it in my bones. I KNOW we're in for some great things in 2008. Great things. Fast things. Fun things. And, as usual, I'll share every step of the way with y'all.

WAHOO!!

Peeking under the Kona Skirt

I blissfully led my life for over 30 years without knowing my own ignorance about triathlon. And now that I know, and with Kona on the horizon, I'm so excited I could just about pee my pants. Pee my pants! It's like watching a reality tv show when you actually know someone on the show!

And you do, too. I know it. You know it. No sense in denying. Admitting we have a problem is the first step, ya know.

So...do you want to peek up the Kona skirt? Step over to the Elf's blog -- Elizabeth Fedofsky. I've mentioned before how I love her writing and she is a bona fide PRO now! She took the plunge, so send money. She will wear your schwag for peanuts* (but probably will work harder for peanut butter). She's already been making the rounds and now has locked in with Hak over at The Outdoor Journey for Fedofsky Fridays. Check it out!

And she's there. On the ground. Hanging with uber cool triathletes, gawking at the untouchables, and sipping Kona's finest brews (coffee, of course!) ... all in preparation for the big show this weekend.

And she's posting like a fiend. So, swing over and peek up the skirt of Kona. Be sure to check out stuff from earlier this week. And then, come race day, cheer the Elf and her hubby, Chris, on to the race of their lives!

And, lastly...but certainly not leastly...the Elf is pimping herself out as a coach. I kid you not. So if you're looking for a coach that has LOADS of experience, tons of training and racing under her own belt, and (gasp) a sense of humor...well, you know what I'm getting at...

So...ENJOY!!

(Picture source)
* But don't offer just peanuts! Offer her billions of dollars and tv appearances. She's worth it!