Glad he’s not my type cause me thinks he saw my cooter

So to tell you the truth, my body aches. I have pushed it hard since February and I am feeling the ill effects of not enough rest and recovery. And the thought of October 2 (the day after the marathon) is oh so sweet and can not come fast enough.

After every one of the triathlons I did this summer, I promised myself a massage, which never happened. Now, after completing my last of the season last weekend, I finally took the gift card I had been saving since Christmas and used it today for a deep tissue massage.

Shaun was touted as their best deep tissue guy, so I took him. We discussed my problem areas (feet, hips, shoulders, especially under the shoulder blades) and he asked me if I was open to lying on my side so he could get into my hip area better. As I said “yes” it quickly dawned on me that unlike the Viking’s players he claims to have worked on, they were fully clothed in shorts and workout wear, I was going to be naked in between some sheets. Never the less I disrobed and slipped in.

Now, if you have had this type of massage before you know it is not for the faint of heart. There is no lying down and falling asleep to waterfall music and the gentle laying on of warm hands from the massage therapist. This massage is hard core, sometimes painful with lots of deep breathing just so you can make it through to the next knot…but always well worth the agony.

Shaun started at my shoulders and back, moved to my feet and legs and then went head long into my glutes. This is the part where I am now laying on my side, top leg at a 90 degree angle to my hip, bottom leg straight down and sheet, well that’s the problem…where oh where was the sheet?

Yeah, to be honest, I felt a little uneasy. I had 285 pounds of therapist pouring all his weight into my hip joint with his elbow, up and around the joint, slowly rooting out two knots that where so big that when they released my whole body slumped back down on the table exhausted.

In the midst of being tortured, I got to the point where I no longer cared about my exposed girly parts. I decided that if he was slimy enough to get a rise out of “that” then he would quickly get close enough to notice that I had not been kind enough to shower after my run in technical fibers this morning.

Purrrr like a kitten

The tri bike that I bought a few months back is fabulous and wonderful and is going to make me soooo fast. The only draw back is, it does not yet fit like a glove and I want it to.

First my knees and hips ached after long rides, so I brought it in and Drew “the bike guy” kindly listened to my delimea and adjusted the seat height.

Then my left knee started giving me trouble, I brought it in and Drew worked hard at finding the potential problem and then he adjusted the angle at which my foot clips into my pedal.

Now I have another biking related issue…MY VAGINA HURTS! Yes, my sweet vagina. It hurts to the point of making me want to scream OH MY GOD MY VAGINA HURTS out loud to the whole world or anyone who will listen. This vagina pain might even rival hemorrhoidal pain. The kind that you can’t shake no matter what you do and you certainly can’t get it off your mind, all while on a 25 mile ride is no good at all.

So, here I sit (gingerly mind you) trying to envision the conversation at the bike shop when I bring my bike back into Drew to tweak.

Me: Hey Drew, how’s it going? Thanks for taking another look at my bike.

Drew: So, what’s the deal?

Me: MY VAGINA HURTS…YOU MUST FIX IT! DO YOU HEAR ME MAN, FIX IT, FIX IT, FIIIIIIIIXXXXXXX IIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Almost road kill

Yesterday morning I met up with Jen for our morning run. It was a beautiful morning. It was really peaceful. The temperature was slightly warmer and large snow flakes were gently falling down. We started off at Lake Harriett and worked our way a quarter of the way around Lake Calhoun. Then, through the darkness, a random car drove off the road, up onto the grass, glanced a large rock directly to our right and sped less than 10 feet in front of us onto the running path. It kept going down the path until it turned and burned its way back to the street, but only after hitting two more trees.

Our initial reaction was…OH MY GOD, we almost got hit. We could have been killed. Did they want to hit us? Did they fall asleep behind the wheel? Did they have a heart attack? We didn’t know. All we knew was that we wanted to run, and run away from the car as fast as we could.

We were less then 10 feet away from being taken out of this world, leaving six small children and two husbands collectively between the two of us. Had we been running a touch faster, we could have been hit. Had we not stopped to tuck my hat into my back pocket, we could have been hit. Had we not taken a few minutes to adjust our socks before we started, we could have been hit. We were steps away from not walking back into our own homes that morning.

Later on that day, after I talked about the run with my family, CT hugged my leg, looked up at me and said, “Mama, you would have ruined Christmas if you didn’t come home. I love you, please don’t ever not come home.”

I’ll do my best little buddy, I’ll do my best.

Brrrrrrr

5:00 am + 8 degrees (-4 wind-chill) + 3 mile run around a flat lake with high winds = deranged and obviously insane woman

POP

Light match.

Sterilize needle.

Stick needle delicately into the base of the blister.

Oooooohhhhh. There is nothing more satisfying than draining the bloody-juicy-ooze out of ones very large blister.

Well, maybe there is…watching your kids watch you do it

I realized

right around mile 6, I had made the wrong choice in socks.

Snot nose

I have so much snot packed up in my head, I can’t even think straight. It’s like I am walking in a fog, or maybe that’s just the Sudafed.

When I bend down, my face throbs. When I look in the mirror, I can see that the bags under my eyes have even swelled with snot. I look like an exaggerated wood carving of an old woman who has worked her fingers to the bone in the sun and the snow and her face is filled with miles of puffy lines.

And, if that’s not enough…it’s always nice when you’re talking with someone in your daughter’s preschool class, who you don’t know very well, and snot just runs straight out your nose and onto your lip.

TC 10

What a beautiful race.

What a ton of people.

The Shortcut to the Capital rocked!

I got down to business and got it done in 1 hour, 30 minutes and 10 seconds (chip time). This included walking through water stops, stopping to hug an old neighbor and then stopping to kiss each member of my family. As I took back off running PJ said, “Where are you going?” I yelled back, “to the finish liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinne!”

And to my lady friends, Jen
(10 mile) and Whitney (Marathon), great job on your runs.

Thanks for being such great inspirations!

Did I beat the hairdresser?

YES. Well, sort of…she never showed. But I am still gonna take that as beating her. You can’t win if you don’t even show up.

And, how was the rest of “the ride”? It was really great and I would do it all over again in a heart beat.

The official results came in on Sunday and my stats are as follows:
Overall participants: 189th out of 340
Women: 60th out of 147
Age Group: 7th

I have already set my sites on next year’s event, The Turtleman. Why not? I’m not getting any younger.

P.S. And a big shout out to Mrs. Bickerson, because with out all of your amazing bike equipment and generosity to let me use it, I would never have been so stellar on the bike leg of the race. THANK YOU-THANK YOU-THANK YOU!

Transition #1 (swim to bike)

“Hi” to my kids.

Almost to the finish line.

And, last but not least, a very special thanks to my family who has been cheering for me since February when I got this cockamamie idea in my head. I love you!

I’ve been waiting for this

After several months of getting up at 5:00 am, six times a week, working out and lifting weights for far more time than anyone ever should; this week, I am staring down a week of workouts that just put a smile on my face.

Monday: Rest
Tuesday: 30 minute bike
Wednesday: 20 minute swim
Thursday: 15 minute run
Friday: Rest
Saturday: Beat the hairdresser at ALL costs

P.S. Erik, if it seems as though she is going to beat me. I will need you to slash her tires right before she comes out of the water. OK?