Beau had a fever. How high? I have no idea--my mommy hands said probably around 101.
He felt hot last night so I gave him some Motrin. It doesn't seem serious. I am basing this on that fact that he is still running around, eating, and acting just like Beau always does. He does have a cough so I think he has a cold. I am certain that if I get this cold I will feel like I am dying but Beau? He swears he is not sick. Perfectly fine. Nothing hurts and he most definitely does not need to go to the doctor.
We'll see about that.
The Motrin knocked the fever right out. I went to check him about an hour after I gave it to him and he was all sweaty and snoring blissfully.
I went to check him again this morning and he felt a little warm--maybe a hundred-- so I gave him some more Motrin. I asked him how he felt and he said fine and that he didn't want to go to the boat.
Me, a little confused but nonetheless very interested since Beau loves the boat, loves the lake, loves water, loves to swim. "Oh. How come?"
"I'm scared."
Me, surprised: "You! Really? Of what?"
Him: "Of the snapping turtle" Of course he said, "h'apping 'urtle".
I wasn't really sure why were having a conversation about the boat and snapping turtles but I did, after a moment, recall that last time we went to lake--and by last time I mean over a year ago-- we saw a snapping turtle. And I guess he also heard me yesterday ask Ryan what he thought about going to the lake on Sunday. I didn't know Beau heard me ask him that but I guess he did.
So around 5:30 this morning Beau and I had a very lengthy conversation about snapping turtles and how they live in the lake, under the water--the very water that he swims in. And how much, after some thought, he really does love the boat and swimming in the lake even if there are snapping turtles in the water. And one time, at camp, Carmella saw a tiny scorpion but he did not see it but he knows that scorpions? Like bees? Will sting you. He is serious. Totally. Oh, and there is a bee's nest in the bush next to our driveway. He saw it. And, guess what? It has honey in it. Honey. 'Cause bees? They make honey. He knows that. But he won't touch the nest. Or the honey. Because bees? They will sting you. And it will hurt. Very bad. He knows this because one time--like last year, at the beach when we went with Chase-- Mommy stepped on a bee. He saw that. Oh, and 2 days ago? Lala? Got stung by a yellow jacket while she was hiking with Pop. Right there, on her wrist. And Mommy. He is not sick. He does not want to go to the doctor. 'Cause he is scared he will get a shot. And that? That will hurt. Very bad.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
I am Gym Nat. Hear me squeak.
Without much ado about it here are the totals for last week:
The Run: 40 miles--maybe 41 but whatever. Pats self on the back for consistency, for maintaining despite all the dreadmill days and the sad 10 miles outside in 88 degree heat, bleh.
The Bike: 52 miles--only one day was a road ride and that was only 22 miles. The rest were on the stationary bike at the gym. Not sure if I am suppose to count these or not but it does kick my tail so I am counting.
The Swim: mile and half-- little short this week. Who cares. I only need to swim a 400 for the tri and I know I can do it.
Rode Lance today at the river today for 25 miles at a 15.6 mph pace. Martin's Landing and the climb up Eve's road killed my quads. Then swam a 600m during adult swim at the pool. Eh.
I miss training for marathons but I am loving the diversity.
The Run: 40 miles--maybe 41 but whatever. Pats self on the back for consistency, for maintaining despite all the dreadmill days and the sad 10 miles outside in 88 degree heat, bleh.
The Bike: 52 miles--only one day was a road ride and that was only 22 miles. The rest were on the stationary bike at the gym. Not sure if I am suppose to count these or not but it does kick my tail so I am counting.
The Swim: mile and half-- little short this week. Who cares. I only need to swim a 400 for the tri and I know I can do it.
Rode Lance today at the river today for 25 miles at a 15.6 mph pace. Martin's Landing and the climb up Eve's road killed my quads. Then swam a 600m during adult swim at the pool. Eh.
I miss training for marathons but I am loving the diversity.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Dreadmill
Today was my third treadmill workout of the week. Ugh, hate it. I am sure that there are others in my position who for whatever reason--heat, childcare, injury, weather are forced inside for treadmill runs. So I thought I would share some of my workouts.
Yeah, right.
If only I had such talent on the treadmill.
I know that there are some, like Bruce, who can go for hours on the dreadmill. I am not one of those and just marvel and applaud his --or anyone else's--ability to do it. My limit on the treadmill is an hour, and not a minute more. So I utilize the treadmill for speedwork. I also do not do hills on the treadmill since I get enough of those on every single run I do outside. So here are my workouts:
Negative Split Run: Simple enough. I do this for a 5k most often but occasionally do it for a 10k. I start at 7.5 mph pace and finish running at a 10mph pace. Cool down 1 mile at a 7 mph pace.
Interval Run: My base pace for this is 7.5 mph. I start each mile at 7.5 mph and hold it for a 1/4 mile. Then I increase over the next 1/4 mile to 8mph pace. Then from the half mile to the .75 mile I increase to 8.5 mph. Once I hit the .75 mark I sprint it out as hard as I can. Once it flips to the next mile I start all over at the 7.5 mph pace and then do it all again. I repeat this sequence for anywhere from 4 miles to 7 miles. I suppose this is my take on Yassos.
Dante's Ladders: My base here is 7 mph and I climb the ladder several times for an hour--sometimes I quit at 7 miles and walk out to the end of the hour. The 60 minutes usually yields just under 8 miles if I run the whole time. I start running at 7mph pace and then every 30 seconds bump up until I reach the top of the ladder at 8.5. Then I run back down, again in 30 second variables. The next ladder I go to 9 mph and back down to the 7 mph pace and then back up the third to 8.5 mph and back down.
And here are my workouts this week so far:
Monday: 7 mile interval workout--54 minutes. Walked out to the hour
Tuesday: 10k negative split run--46 minutes--jogged out to 7 miles and then walked to the hour mark. 1/2 mile swim.
Wednesday: Dante's ladders--just shy of 8 miles in an hour. Then practiced a brick on dead legs: 12 mile hill workout on the stationary bike in 33 minutes and then 2 mile run in 14:41--walked it out to 16 minutes. Hard workout and I was drenched. Loved it.
Please post your dreadmill or workouts you have to do at the gym when you can't be outside.
Yeah, right.
If only I had such talent on the treadmill.
I know that there are some, like Bruce, who can go for hours on the dreadmill. I am not one of those and just marvel and applaud his --or anyone else's--ability to do it. My limit on the treadmill is an hour, and not a minute more. So I utilize the treadmill for speedwork. I also do not do hills on the treadmill since I get enough of those on every single run I do outside. So here are my workouts:
Negative Split Run: Simple enough. I do this for a 5k most often but occasionally do it for a 10k. I start at 7.5 mph pace and finish running at a 10mph pace. Cool down 1 mile at a 7 mph pace.
Interval Run: My base pace for this is 7.5 mph. I start each mile at 7.5 mph and hold it for a 1/4 mile. Then I increase over the next 1/4 mile to 8mph pace. Then from the half mile to the .75 mile I increase to 8.5 mph. Once I hit the .75 mark I sprint it out as hard as I can. Once it flips to the next mile I start all over at the 7.5 mph pace and then do it all again. I repeat this sequence for anywhere from 4 miles to 7 miles. I suppose this is my take on Yassos.
Dante's Ladders: My base here is 7 mph and I climb the ladder several times for an hour--sometimes I quit at 7 miles and walk out to the end of the hour. The 60 minutes usually yields just under 8 miles if I run the whole time. I start running at 7mph pace and then every 30 seconds bump up until I reach the top of the ladder at 8.5. Then I run back down, again in 30 second variables. The next ladder I go to 9 mph and back down to the 7 mph pace and then back up the third to 8.5 mph and back down.
And here are my workouts this week so far:
Monday: 7 mile interval workout--54 minutes. Walked out to the hour
Tuesday: 10k negative split run--46 minutes--jogged out to 7 miles and then walked to the hour mark. 1/2 mile swim.
Wednesday: Dante's ladders--just shy of 8 miles in an hour. Then practiced a brick on dead legs: 12 mile hill workout on the stationary bike in 33 minutes and then 2 mile run in 14:41--walked it out to 16 minutes. Hard workout and I was drenched. Loved it.
Please post your dreadmill or workouts you have to do at the gym when you can't be outside.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
In case there was ever any doubt
People are always stopping me on the street and asking me where Beau gets his hair.
And I too have wondered and guessed maybe Ryan or my dad but never really certain which, if either.
Those curls! They marvel.
That color! They envy.
And then they look puzzled at me with my highlighted straight dark blond hair, Carmella with her caramel-colored stick-straight hair and Ryan's head of thick short brown hair and yeah, I too have wondered. But not anymore. . .
Bubbles brought the picture to dinner the other night. I had never seen a picture of Ryan at this age--which we guessed him to be the about the same age as Beau. I had only seen baby pictures where Ryan was bald and then I remember him from elementary school and his hair was more my color and straighter by then. So okay then! Beau gets his hair from Ryan. And I guess if father like son then the curls and the towhead days are numbered. Whahhh!!!!!
Here are some more pictures from our Father's Day/June Birthdays dinner at the neon palm tree (local Mexican with a, well, neon palm tree).
Poppy's "We got Fripped!" t-shirt.
June birthdays do shots! 30 years age difference. Tequila though? She's a lady that shows no age, no gender bias.
Ryan, an August birthday, indulges too.
The kids.
And just in case there was ever any doubt of Ryan's paternity. . .
Happy Father's day and happy belated birthdays to Meme and Pop.
And I too have wondered and guessed maybe Ryan or my dad but never really certain which, if either. Those curls! They marvel.
That color! They envy.
And then they look puzzled at me with my highlighted straight dark blond hair, Carmella with her caramel-colored stick-straight hair and Ryan's head of thick short brown hair and yeah, I too have wondered. But not anymore. . .
Bubbles brought the picture to dinner the other night. I had never seen a picture of Ryan at this age--which we guessed him to be the about the same age as Beau. I had only seen baby pictures where Ryan was bald and then I remember him from elementary school and his hair was more my color and straighter by then. So okay then! Beau gets his hair from Ryan. And I guess if father like son then the curls and the towhead days are numbered. Whahhh!!!!!
Here are some more pictures from our Father's Day/June Birthdays dinner at the neon palm tree (local Mexican with a, well, neon palm tree).
Poppy's "We got Fripped!" t-shirt.
June birthdays do shots! 30 years age difference. Tequila though? She's a lady that shows no age, no gender bias.
Ryan, an August birthday, indulges too.
The kids.
And just in case there was ever any doubt of Ryan's paternity. . .
Happy Father's day and happy belated birthdays to Meme and Pop.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
June 10th's week end totals
Not much to blog about here since I already have, just adding it all up.
I got in a 9-10 mile run this morning--new route-- I am guessing the mileage here as Garmin was dead. It took me about an hour and half to run but I felt kinda slow, though I am never over a 9:30 mile so the 9-10 range is probably right. Then I rode the bike into Roswell--just 6 miles or so, again guessing here. So, for the week . . .
Run: 40 miles
Bike: 77 miles
Swim: 2 miles
My legs are totally beat. My run today sucked. Nothing hurt, I was just tired, plain and simple--probably because I had 2 great workouts yesterday. So tomorrow is probably going to be a day off. Next week, since the kids are out of camp, I think I will just focus on some speed work on the treadmill and get the bike in when I can and of course get some swims in.
I got in a 9-10 mile run this morning--new route-- I am guessing the mileage here as Garmin was dead. It took me about an hour and half to run but I felt kinda slow, though I am never over a 9:30 mile so the 9-10 range is probably right. Then I rode the bike into Roswell--just 6 miles or so, again guessing here. So, for the week . . .
Run: 40 miles
Bike: 77 miles
Swim: 2 miles
My legs are totally beat. My run today sucked. Nothing hurt, I was just tired, plain and simple--probably because I had 2 great workouts yesterday. So tomorrow is probably going to be a day off. Next week, since the kids are out of camp, I think I will just focus on some speed work on the treadmill and get the bike in when I can and of course get some swims in.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Carnival Day
Like the title suggests today's theme was Carnival.
As in Mardi Gras and absolutely anything goes. Like, Beau's counseler was dressed as a "guppy stuck in pond scum." We are so uncreative in comparison.
Carmella wasn't planning on dressing up but after she came down in her Hello Kitty shirt and black mini skort I suggested maybe I could do whiskers on her face. I even said I could do a headband with kitty ears. At first she said no but then she changed her mind. So 10 minutes before it was time to go I made said headband and drew cat face on her. She did frown somewhat when I called her Goth Kitty.
No Mommy, I am a cute kitty cat.
Right. Okay.
Beau, while I was putting on the kitty, destroyed the house getting his costume together: Vader mask, super hero utility belt, star bathing trunks and "Shake your Bones" t-shirt with skeletons on it. Okay, the t shirt was my idea because he wanted to wear a black turtleneck and I convinced him that it wasn't "cool" since the you-will-fry-your-ass-off-in-long-sleeves argument failed yesterday. Funny how being "cool" not cool is important even at 3.
Today was also the last day of camp: I'm sad. Carmella's sad. Beau is devastated. His counselors seemed a little verclempt too and didn't want to give him back. I told them I was totally fine leaving him with them.
They whined that he wasn't taking another session. They adored him. They all praised his energy, his humor and his love and excitement of everything--especially water. This. . . this was unexpected. But an absolutely wonderful surprise for me. See, at school-- and pretty much everywhere else, Carmella is the kid that teachers love and adore. Beau, on the other hand, is the kid that the teachers think is cute and "awesome" but don't really want him in their class because he is so high energy, too much work.
I am so just over the moon happy that camp is a place where Beau was the pet; where Beau was the star.
I really wish I could afford to send him to the school that this camp is based out of. Because if ever there was a perfect fit for the school, the camp--it is Beau. Sadly, with tuition for just preschool being over 10k ( that is for 5 days a week, full days-- but even shorter days are more than twice what I pay for 5 half days at his current school)it isn't ever going to happen--especially since kindergarten and the upper grades are even more. I know this because I looked into it for Carmella because it is also an "artistic" school--which Carmella, as she told me yesterday is "the artist in the family," after all.
Oh well, at least they can go to the camp.
And a million thank yous to Lala and Pop for footing the bill so that they could go--because truth be told-- even the camp is too expensive for us.
Rest assured, it was money well spent.
PS The above picture was taken with my new Barbie phone.
PPS I am sure to destroy it soon. It is so delicate. I am absolutely not to be trusted with delicate electronics. The Pope must have blessed my Nano for it to have lasted this long.
PPPS I got in a great 7 mile run at the river today and then in the afternoon went to the gym and rocked an hour on a hill workout on the stationary bike for 21.6 mph.
One very last thing. It is Lala's birthday today. She is old. But not as old as Pop, Poppy or Bubbles or a whole bunch of other baby boomers. And let me tell you this: it is so annoying but people always think she is my big sister. Oh, and my thoughts on getting old? Since you asked and all. I look at it like this: you either get old or you are dead. Choice seems pretty easy there. But to further it--silver lining, you know,-- I figure if you can't stay young then it is best to just look young for as long as you can. And looking young? Lala rocks it. Happy Birthday Mom!
As in Mardi Gras and absolutely anything goes. Like, Beau's counseler was dressed as a "guppy stuck in pond scum." We are so uncreative in comparison.
Carmella wasn't planning on dressing up but after she came down in her Hello Kitty shirt and black mini skort I suggested maybe I could do whiskers on her face. I even said I could do a headband with kitty ears. At first she said no but then she changed her mind. So 10 minutes before it was time to go I made said headband and drew cat face on her. She did frown somewhat when I called her Goth Kitty.
No Mommy, I am a cute kitty cat.
Right. Okay.
Beau, while I was putting on the kitty, destroyed the house getting his costume together: Vader mask, super hero utility belt, star bathing trunks and "Shake your Bones" t-shirt with skeletons on it. Okay, the t shirt was my idea because he wanted to wear a black turtleneck and I convinced him that it wasn't "cool" since the you-will-fry-your-ass-off-in-long-sleeves argument failed yesterday. Funny how being "cool" not cool is important even at 3.
Today was also the last day of camp: I'm sad. Carmella's sad. Beau is devastated. His counselors seemed a little verclempt too and didn't want to give him back. I told them I was totally fine leaving him with them.
They whined that he wasn't taking another session. They adored him. They all praised his energy, his humor and his love and excitement of everything--especially water. This. . . this was unexpected. But an absolutely wonderful surprise for me. See, at school-- and pretty much everywhere else, Carmella is the kid that teachers love and adore. Beau, on the other hand, is the kid that the teachers think is cute and "awesome" but don't really want him in their class because he is so high energy, too much work.
I am so just over the moon happy that camp is a place where Beau was the pet; where Beau was the star.
I really wish I could afford to send him to the school that this camp is based out of. Because if ever there was a perfect fit for the school, the camp--it is Beau. Sadly, with tuition for just preschool being over 10k ( that is for 5 days a week, full days-- but even shorter days are more than twice what I pay for 5 half days at his current school)it isn't ever going to happen--especially since kindergarten and the upper grades are even more. I know this because I looked into it for Carmella because it is also an "artistic" school--which Carmella, as she told me yesterday is "the artist in the family," after all.
Oh well, at least they can go to the camp.
And a million thank yous to Lala and Pop for footing the bill so that they could go--because truth be told-- even the camp is too expensive for us.
Rest assured, it was money well spent.
PS The above picture was taken with my new Barbie phone.
PPS I am sure to destroy it soon. It is so delicate. I am absolutely not to be trusted with delicate electronics. The Pope must have blessed my Nano for it to have lasted this long.
PPPS I got in a great 7 mile run at the river today and then in the afternoon went to the gym and rocked an hour on a hill workout on the stationary bike for 21.6 mph.
One very last thing. It is Lala's birthday today. She is old. But not as old as Pop, Poppy or Bubbles or a whole bunch of other baby boomers. And let me tell you this: it is so annoying but people always think she is my big sister. Oh, and my thoughts on getting old? Since you asked and all. I look at it like this: you either get old or you are dead. Choice seems pretty easy there. But to further it--silver lining, you know,-- I figure if you can't stay young then it is best to just look young for as long as you can. And looking young? Lala rocks it. Happy Birthday Mom!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Update to Wacky Tacky Wednesday
Okay so only Carmella's group was doing Wacky Tacky Wednesday. Beau's group was doing "Make Your Own Recyclable Hat Day". Oops.
Can you imagine what would have happened if I had made that mistake with Carmella?
Beau, of course, did not care one bit that he was dressed ridiculous and different from all the other kids. In fact, he wore his pirate hat to camp again today-- along with a long sleeved winter shirt. He told me he liked to be hot. I did put a short sleeved shirt in his back pack but his counselors said he refused to change--just like yesterday when he refused to change out of his cowboys boots and the cape--despite the blister and no matter how hot the cape made him. I guess I should be able to relate since I have several pairs of shoes that I continue to wear because they make my legs look great even though they absolutely kill my feet and make it painful to run the next day.
In other wacky Wednesday news I got in a one mile swim in the afternoon yesterday. Today I did 22 miles on the bike down by the river at an avg pace of 15.6 mph. I did do some hill work in Martin's Landing and man, my legs were dead today. It was much harder than I expected. I had planned to get off the bike and do a run but that did not happen.
And to whoever yelled out "Hey Nat!" to me on Riverside Dr--Sorry I didn't yell hey back or turn around to figure out who you were. I was trying to get my groove on and was still talking myself into the workout. Stopping probably would have ended it completely for me. Anyway, my guess is that is was Doug, Steph's husband. I think I recognized his laugh.
Can you imagine what would have happened if I had made that mistake with Carmella?
Beau, of course, did not care one bit that he was dressed ridiculous and different from all the other kids. In fact, he wore his pirate hat to camp again today-- along with a long sleeved winter shirt. He told me he liked to be hot. I did put a short sleeved shirt in his back pack but his counselors said he refused to change--just like yesterday when he refused to change out of his cowboys boots and the cape--despite the blister and no matter how hot the cape made him. I guess I should be able to relate since I have several pairs of shoes that I continue to wear because they make my legs look great even though they absolutely kill my feet and make it painful to run the next day.
In other wacky Wednesday news I got in a one mile swim in the afternoon yesterday. Today I did 22 miles on the bike down by the river at an avg pace of 15.6 mph. I did do some hill work in Martin's Landing and man, my legs were dead today. It was much harder than I expected. I had planned to get off the bike and do a run but that did not happen.
And to whoever yelled out "Hey Nat!" to me on Riverside Dr--Sorry I didn't yell hey back or turn around to figure out who you were. I was trying to get my groove on and was still talking myself into the workout. Stopping probably would have ended it completely for me. Anyway, my guess is that is was Doug, Steph's husband. I think I recognized his laugh.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I'm In!
I got my number for the Peachtree Road Race today! I was a little worried since I forgot to send in a copy of my Driver's license but I did send in race documentation so I guess that was enough. Whew!
I'm all sweaty. Wait, not about the Peachtree-- I mean of course I will be after the race--but I was referring to the a 14 mile death march, I mean run, I just finished. It is only 84 degrees. I was faster last week when it was in the low 90's. The summer heat is humbling~ a 9:21 avg pace. Wow, I suck. Oh well, it is done. Miles in the bank if nothing else.
Wacky Tacky Wednesday
That is what today is at the kid's camp.
Yesterday when I asked what the "theme" for Wednesday was I inwardly groaned when they said "Wacky Tacky Wednesday".
Carmella, as mentioned on previously posts, hates Wacky Wednesday and crazy hair day.
Beau, of course wants everyday to be wacky or crazy so I knew this would be no problem.
So I told her about it yesterday afternoon and she said, "Uhm, yeah, I'm not doing that. I don't want to wear clothes that don't match."
Whatever, I thought.
But Ryan got all mad and told me I had to make her do it. Apparently she told him yesterday that she refused to participate in the jello activity. I asked her about it and she said the counselors threw jello on the kids while they went down the slip n slide. Carmella doesn't like jello and she doesn't like to get really dirty so I wasn't surprised. She did say she had fun laughing at everyone else who did like getting jello thrown on them. She also didn't participate last week when they did an activity where they had to pretend they were animals and bump into each other. She said in that case she was concerned about getting hurt and that it seemed too silly. And again, I was not surprised. She is a child that has never hit, shoved or purposely bumped into anyone. Ever. She likes her personal space and is respective of others personal space.
Obviously, the child does not take after me. But the other one? Well, I think we all know the answer to that.
So this morning Carmella and I had a fight while I tried to find an outfit that was wacky but not so outrageous that it would draw too much attention to her. After many tears on her part and nixing the tutu and fairy wings we found something that was Carmella wacky. But it isn't really wacky at all: Her bathing suit today is a mix-matched top and bottom but actually looks like it was made to go together because the colors work. And even her madras shorts and tank with flip flips and pompom trim looks pretty cute together. The flower hat and pink cowboy boots? I don't know. I'd wear the outfit on any given day not at all thinking it was wacky. She did briefly lose it when I pulled out socks that say Monday but since the boots hide them she quickly recovered. And to prove her "wackiness", she assure me over breakfast that her green sunglasses do not match at all. They do, but I didn't tell her that.
Beau though? Yeah, he whined that he wasn't "wacky enough" with his camo bathing suit, cowboy boots, cape, and "Beaupoolza 05" shirt. He wanted to also wear his Darth Vader mask but I explained that is was too hot. He did end up adding his pirate hat to his ensemble.
$5 bucks that Carmella ditches the hat as soon as I pull out of carpool.
Yesterday when I asked what the "theme" for Wednesday was I inwardly groaned when they said "Wacky Tacky Wednesday".
Carmella, as mentioned on previously posts, hates Wacky Wednesday and crazy hair day.
Beau, of course wants everyday to be wacky or crazy so I knew this would be no problem.
So I told her about it yesterday afternoon and she said, "Uhm, yeah, I'm not doing that. I don't want to wear clothes that don't match."
Whatever, I thought.
But Ryan got all mad and told me I had to make her do it. Apparently she told him yesterday that she refused to participate in the jello activity. I asked her about it and she said the counselors threw jello on the kids while they went down the slip n slide. Carmella doesn't like jello and she doesn't like to get really dirty so I wasn't surprised. She did say she had fun laughing at everyone else who did like getting jello thrown on them. She also didn't participate last week when they did an activity where they had to pretend they were animals and bump into each other. She said in that case she was concerned about getting hurt and that it seemed too silly. And again, I was not surprised. She is a child that has never hit, shoved or purposely bumped into anyone. Ever. She likes her personal space and is respective of others personal space.
Obviously, the child does not take after me. But the other one? Well, I think we all know the answer to that.
So this morning Carmella and I had a fight while I tried to find an outfit that was wacky but not so outrageous that it would draw too much attention to her. After many tears on her part and nixing the tutu and fairy wings we found something that was Carmella wacky. But it isn't really wacky at all: Her bathing suit today is a mix-matched top and bottom but actually looks like it was made to go together because the colors work. And even her madras shorts and tank with flip flips and pompom trim looks pretty cute together. The flower hat and pink cowboy boots? I don't know. I'd wear the outfit on any given day not at all thinking it was wacky. She did briefly lose it when I pulled out socks that say Monday but since the boots hide them she quickly recovered. And to prove her "wackiness", she assure me over breakfast that her green sunglasses do not match at all. They do, but I didn't tell her that.
Beau though? Yeah, he whined that he wasn't "wacky enough" with his camo bathing suit, cowboy boots, cape, and "Beaupoolza 05" shirt. He wanted to also wear his Darth Vader mask but I explained that is was too hot. He did end up adding his pirate hat to his ensemble.
$5 bucks that Carmella ditches the hat as soon as I pull out of carpool.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Today. Today is important.
Monumental in many ways.
Me, Nat.
Him, Ryan.
We.
Today, we have been married for 8 years.
Probably down to the minute here.
Seriously.
It is 7:40ish.
Our wedding started at 7 pm.
The light, right this minute, looks the same.
But me?
I am not the same.
Probably for the better.
8 years.
Wow.
This 8th year though?
Our hardest fought.
The hardest won.
Yay us!
Sigh, we are seriously weathering that "for poorer" these days. I hate it. I struggle and worry with it. But hey, we love each other-- so we are rich in the poor house . . . so we've got that, but. . .
Okay, so yeah, if someone has a job they want to offer me: I'm all ears.
Today is monumental.
Today I also rode Lance further than I have run.
28 miles on the mean and hilly streets of Marietta and Roswell. Just shy of a 15 mph pace. Getting faster.
Yesterday I ran 9 miles and swam a mile. I am planning a long run tomorrow. And I am not talking marathon training long run. I am talking summer long run which means about as long and for as far as I can handle in the heat. I need to get in a few shorter runs, a brick and another swim or 2 this week also.
Last week totals came out like this:
The run: 40 miles
The bike: 69 miles
The swim: 2 miles
And I am happy with that.
Today, I signed up for my first trithalon.
And finally, today, I downloaded the pictures from Pookie and Wes's engagement party in
Statesboro.
As mentioned before, Ryan couldn't join me.
And after I told him of all the craziness that went down he wasn't so sad he couldn't make it. I am not going to go into all the details of my jam-packed weekend since these are my sister's crazy friends that I don't know very well. No need to embarrass and piss off new acquaintances.
Well, at least not yet.
Also, it is my anniversary and Ryan just got home and he wants some Nat attention.
But I will show you some of the pictures I took before the battery on my camera went out.
On the porch at the Beaver house.
Me and ABBA
Pop and Pookie
Me, Pop and Pookie.
Please note how Pop is looking at his favorite child.
Wes's dad, Dr. Phd
Lala and Wes's Mom, Mrs. Dr. Phd
Pop and Lala: my parents.
Next Monday they will have been married 38 years.
Lala and Josh-- one of the groom's men. If I had had better sense I would have gotten his pants in the shot too: Brooks brothers with whales embrodiered on them.
Another groom's man.
Me and the Groom-to-be.
He is practicing so we can seriously cut a rug at his wedding in September.
Pookie and Mel
Me!
Me and Pookie at The French Quarter where the after party went.
Mel, Fishstick and Pookie
Fishstick signing one of her many checks at the French Quarter bar.
This was only the beginning of what would come back to bite Fishstick in the ass the next day.
Those throwing back the shots.
And I end with a quote from what ABBA said the next morning: I got to see the show and I didn't even have to buy the tickets. I can't wait for the wedding.
Me too.
Me, Nat.
Him, Ryan.
We.
Today, we have been married for 8 years.
Probably down to the minute here.
Seriously.
It is 7:40ish.
Our wedding started at 7 pm.
The light, right this minute, looks the same.
But me?
I am not the same.
Probably for the better.
8 years.
Wow.
This 8th year though?
Our hardest fought.
The hardest won.
Yay us!
Sigh, we are seriously weathering that "for poorer" these days. I hate it. I struggle and worry with it. But hey, we love each other-- so we are rich in the poor house . . . so we've got that, but. . .
Okay, so yeah, if someone has a job they want to offer me: I'm all ears.
Today is monumental.
Today I also rode Lance further than I have run.
28 miles on the mean and hilly streets of Marietta and Roswell. Just shy of a 15 mph pace. Getting faster.
Yesterday I ran 9 miles and swam a mile. I am planning a long run tomorrow. And I am not talking marathon training long run. I am talking summer long run which means about as long and for as far as I can handle in the heat. I need to get in a few shorter runs, a brick and another swim or 2 this week also.
Last week totals came out like this:
The run: 40 miles
The bike: 69 miles
The swim: 2 miles
And I am happy with that.
Today, I signed up for my first trithalon.
And finally, today, I downloaded the pictures from Pookie and Wes's engagement party in
Statesboro. As mentioned before, Ryan couldn't join me.
And after I told him of all the craziness that went down he wasn't so sad he couldn't make it. I am not going to go into all the details of my jam-packed weekend since these are my sister's crazy friends that I don't know very well. No need to embarrass and piss off new acquaintances.
Well, at least not yet.
Also, it is my anniversary and Ryan just got home and he wants some Nat attention.
But I will show you some of the pictures I took before the battery on my camera went out.
On the porch at the Beaver house.
Me and ABBA
Pop and Pookie
Me, Pop and Pookie.
Please note how Pop is looking at his favorite child. Wes's dad, Dr. Phd
Lala and Wes's Mom, Mrs. Dr. Phd
Pop and Lala: my parents.
Next Monday they will have been married 38 years. Lala and Josh-- one of the groom's men. If I had had better sense I would have gotten his pants in the shot too: Brooks brothers with whales embrodiered on them.
Another groom's man.
Me and the Groom-to-be.
He is practicing so we can seriously cut a rug at his wedding in September.Pookie and Mel
Me!
Me and Pookie at The French Quarter where the after party went.
Mel, Fishstick and Pookie
Fishstick signing one of her many checks at the French Quarter bar.
This was only the beginning of what would come back to bite Fishstick in the ass the next day.
Those throwing back the shots.
And I end with a quote from what ABBA said the next morning: I got to see the show and I didn't even have to buy the tickets. I can't wait for the wedding.
Me too.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
My Disease: It is Genetic
Quickie post.
Dinner is almost done: Shrimp in a lemon Parmesan pesto sauce with capers, Vidalia onions and grape tomatoes over cheese stuffed tortellini. Salad and bread and the obligatory wine to go with it. Again, all well deserved. And, this is why I never loose weight not matter what I do. I can eat like a bird all day but come dinner? I dine. I eat big.
Thursday's workout: Little over 7 miles in an hour and 2 minutes. Holy crap it was hot. I took the hills out of the equation and went down to the river in Roswell to run. Nice breeze but it was rough. Man I hate the heat and as anyone who was reading this past winter when I trained-- I hate the cold too. I want it to be perfect. All the time. It is that princessness.
After the run, I hopped on the bike and rode to Wileo or Little Wileo or whatever that road is that ends past the nature center and rode back and out to the end of Riverside-- or whatever the road is that backs up to Martin's Landing. All relatively flat with bike lanes, nice. I think is was 12 miles maybe 14, I don't remember now. I do remember it was a 14.8mph pace. So a decent workout. I skipped the swim but I fought myself on going all day. If I keep pushing I get all tired and bitchy. It is hard to say when enough is enough. For some reason it just doesn't feel like a workout unless I am dead at the end of the day. I am telling you, marathon training messes with you. It is seriously hard to cut back and accept it once you push yourself like that. I know that makes perfect sense to some and to others I am "that crazy running girl."
Found out today that in some circles that is what I am called. Best friend's husband went to a party and the women there called me "that crazy running girl." Not sure what I did exactly to earn this title but I am not offended--I've been called much, much worse by women and besides I have long known I was a little crazy. There is a reason why some friends call me "Nutalie."
See, I figure it must be genetic. My other friend tells a story about how she use to go to aerobics with my mom and on the way home my mom would say "Well, I guess I'll go for a run for an hour."
And now, the kids. They've got it too. I can tell, even though they are only 4 (well almost) and 6. Beau is at camp for 4 1/2 hours and Carmella is there for 6 1/2 hours. At this camp they are go go go all day. They swim, hike, ride horses, play games, have relays, do art/crafts etc. There is no down time, no nap time. They walk everywhere. It is awesome. You'd think it would wear their asses out. And it did Beau the first day but apparently he has since acclimated.
See, my kids? They both want to know what's next when I pick them up:
Can we go to the pool?
Are we going to Kid's Club(the gym)?
Lala's?
Bubbles'?
Meme's?
A play date?
A hike?
The park?
What's next?
I say "home" and they whine and say "But that's boring!" The way they act you'd think that making them sit at home and play with their bazillion toys was the equivalent of making them hand wash cloth diapers in the toilet. And a nap? Well, fugetaboutit.
So apparently, the gene of knowing when to say when is something those in my family are born lacking.
Dinner is almost done: Shrimp in a lemon Parmesan pesto sauce with capers, Vidalia onions and grape tomatoes over cheese stuffed tortellini. Salad and bread and the obligatory wine to go with it. Again, all well deserved. And, this is why I never loose weight not matter what I do. I can eat like a bird all day but come dinner? I dine. I eat big.
Thursday's workout: Little over 7 miles in an hour and 2 minutes. Holy crap it was hot. I took the hills out of the equation and went down to the river in Roswell to run. Nice breeze but it was rough. Man I hate the heat and as anyone who was reading this past winter when I trained-- I hate the cold too. I want it to be perfect. All the time. It is that princessness.
After the run, I hopped on the bike and rode to Wileo or Little Wileo or whatever that road is that ends past the nature center and rode back and out to the end of Riverside-- or whatever the road is that backs up to Martin's Landing. All relatively flat with bike lanes, nice. I think is was 12 miles maybe 14, I don't remember now. I do remember it was a 14.8mph pace. So a decent workout. I skipped the swim but I fought myself on going all day. If I keep pushing I get all tired and bitchy. It is hard to say when enough is enough. For some reason it just doesn't feel like a workout unless I am dead at the end of the day. I am telling you, marathon training messes with you. It is seriously hard to cut back and accept it once you push yourself like that. I know that makes perfect sense to some and to others I am "that crazy running girl."
Found out today that in some circles that is what I am called. Best friend's husband went to a party and the women there called me "that crazy running girl." Not sure what I did exactly to earn this title but I am not offended--I've been called much, much worse by women and besides I have long known I was a little crazy. There is a reason why some friends call me "Nutalie."
See, I figure it must be genetic. My other friend tells a story about how she use to go to aerobics with my mom and on the way home my mom would say "Well, I guess I'll go for a run for an hour."
And now, the kids. They've got it too. I can tell, even though they are only 4 (well almost) and 6. Beau is at camp for 4 1/2 hours and Carmella is there for 6 1/2 hours. At this camp they are go go go all day. They swim, hike, ride horses, play games, have relays, do art/crafts etc. There is no down time, no nap time. They walk everywhere. It is awesome. You'd think it would wear their asses out. And it did Beau the first day but apparently he has since acclimated.
See, my kids? They both want to know what's next when I pick them up:
Can we go to the pool?
Are we going to Kid's Club(the gym)?
Lala's?
Bubbles'?
Meme's?
A play date?
A hike?
The park?
What's next?
I say "home" and they whine and say "But that's boring!" The way they act you'd think that making them sit at home and play with their bazillion toys was the equivalent of making them hand wash cloth diapers in the toilet. And a nap? Well, fugetaboutit.
So apparently, the gene of knowing when to say when is something those in my family are born lacking.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Mid Week Update
I will be out of town this weekend and I have some time now to do my tri training update.
Sunday: Road Virgin 20 mile bike ride (13+ mph). And then 3 400's at a very leisurely pace ( with huge intervals in between them). Not counting this in the week's tally.
Monday: Treadmill workout: 6 miles in 44:11. Walked it out til I hit 50 minutes. I forgot how far that was. Got in the pool and swam for just over 30 minutes. I assume it was a mile. I don't count the laps anymore so it could be a little less or a little more than a mile. In the past when I've counted I always hit a mile around 30 minutes so I don't bother to count.
Tuesday: Greenway Trail ride. 24 miles at a 16.2 mph--just under an hour 30.I rode in the big sprocket which I hear makes you faster but it is harder. I was faster but not that much and it was flat so it was not all that hard. I think Lance is great. Now that I am figuring out the gears it isn't so tough.
In the afternoon I swam for 35 minutes-- so a mile and a little more. I did swim harder but again I didn't count the laps--just a continuous swim.
Wednesday: So the kids are at camp this week and next. I drop them both off at 9:30 and I get Beau at 2 and Carmella at 4. So today my plan was to park at Big Peach Running Company and run from there for about 3 hours. By the time I got there it was already 81 degrees. I headed out and took it slow. Ran through Indian Hills and felt pretty good but Old Canton was my undoing. I hate that road and it just isn't that hard. I had stop every once in awhile just to walk, stop my head from spinning, drink some water (I bought some at QT around 6 miles and kept and sipped it). The heat makes me feel like I am dragging a tire. At the 11 mile mark I realized I was 3 miles from home and the shortest way back to Big Peach was 6 or 7 miles. I made an impulse decision and I headed home. I downed a glass of OJ, changed into skirt (yes, I bike in skirt, it is comfy) grabbed Lance and rode back to Big Peach to get my car and then to get Beau.
Run: 14 miles in 2 hours and change.
Bike: About 12 miles--Garmin's GPS didn't pick the first mile and half so I restarted. The 10.5 was at a 14.5 mph. I got a lot of cat calls today--"Go Bike Girl!" and "Keep Riding!" and then just some hoots and hollers. And let me just be the first to say that riding on Johnson Ferry is scary. I ended up riding on the side walk.
It was in the 90's when I finished--at least that is what my car said.
I never got to eat lunch today as I had a bunch of errands to do after I got Beau and then it was time to get Carmella and then I still had more errands to do. I was hungry but it went away and now I am just tired. I am having a Sol and waiting for dinner to finish cooking--baked potato, grilled New York strip, a HUGE salad and, of course, wine. All well deserved.
So my plan for tomorrow is either a 6 or 10 mile recovery (read slow) run in the am and then a mile swim in the pm. Friday will be either a 6 or 10 mile run-- depending on what I do Thursday. Saturday is probably a day off since I will be in travel but I may be able to sneak a short workout in--either bike or run. Going to Statesboro for Pookie's engagement party and then Tybee on Sunday with sister and pals. Ryan can't go because he has to work so I am kidless and husbandless and I am going with Fishstick. Good times and giggles abound for sure. I might bring Lance since Wes (Pookie's fiance) is bringing his bike and his bike buddies will be there so I might see if they go ride if they will let slowpoke me tag along (these guys are Crit guys who regularly race at 35 mph). I am hoping their hungover asses will be slow enough I don't get dropped.
Current totals for the week:
Bike: 56 miles
Run: 20 miles
Swim: 2 miles
I'd like to get the run to 40+ miles and get in another swim workout. I am enjoying the bike so it would be nice if I could find the time for another ride but I doubt I can swing it.
Okay, I'm tired. I need to go eat something.
Sunday: Road Virgin 20 mile bike ride (13+ mph). And then 3 400's at a very leisurely pace ( with huge intervals in between them). Not counting this in the week's tally.
Monday: Treadmill workout: 6 miles in 44:11. Walked it out til I hit 50 minutes. I forgot how far that was. Got in the pool and swam for just over 30 minutes. I assume it was a mile. I don't count the laps anymore so it could be a little less or a little more than a mile. In the past when I've counted I always hit a mile around 30 minutes so I don't bother to count.
Tuesday: Greenway Trail ride. 24 miles at a 16.2 mph--just under an hour 30.I rode in the big sprocket which I hear makes you faster but it is harder. I was faster but not that much and it was flat so it was not all that hard. I think Lance is great. Now that I am figuring out the gears it isn't so tough.
In the afternoon I swam for 35 minutes-- so a mile and a little more. I did swim harder but again I didn't count the laps--just a continuous swim.
Wednesday: So the kids are at camp this week and next. I drop them both off at 9:30 and I get Beau at 2 and Carmella at 4. So today my plan was to park at Big Peach Running Company and run from there for about 3 hours. By the time I got there it was already 81 degrees. I headed out and took it slow. Ran through Indian Hills and felt pretty good but Old Canton was my undoing. I hate that road and it just isn't that hard. I had stop every once in awhile just to walk, stop my head from spinning, drink some water (I bought some at QT around 6 miles and kept and sipped it). The heat makes me feel like I am dragging a tire. At the 11 mile mark I realized I was 3 miles from home and the shortest way back to Big Peach was 6 or 7 miles. I made an impulse decision and I headed home. I downed a glass of OJ, changed into skirt (yes, I bike in skirt, it is comfy) grabbed Lance and rode back to Big Peach to get my car and then to get Beau.
Run: 14 miles in 2 hours and change.
Bike: About 12 miles--Garmin's GPS didn't pick the first mile and half so I restarted. The 10.5 was at a 14.5 mph. I got a lot of cat calls today--"Go Bike Girl!" and "Keep Riding!" and then just some hoots and hollers. And let me just be the first to say that riding on Johnson Ferry is scary. I ended up riding on the side walk.
It was in the 90's when I finished--at least that is what my car said.
I never got to eat lunch today as I had a bunch of errands to do after I got Beau and then it was time to get Carmella and then I still had more errands to do. I was hungry but it went away and now I am just tired. I am having a Sol and waiting for dinner to finish cooking--baked potato, grilled New York strip, a HUGE salad and, of course, wine. All well deserved.
So my plan for tomorrow is either a 6 or 10 mile recovery (read slow) run in the am and then a mile swim in the pm. Friday will be either a 6 or 10 mile run-- depending on what I do Thursday. Saturday is probably a day off since I will be in travel but I may be able to sneak a short workout in--either bike or run. Going to Statesboro for Pookie's engagement party and then Tybee on Sunday with sister and pals. Ryan can't go because he has to work so I am kidless and husbandless and I am going with Fishstick. Good times and giggles abound for sure. I might bring Lance since Wes (Pookie's fiance) is bringing his bike and his bike buddies will be there so I might see if they go ride if they will let slowpoke me tag along (these guys are Crit guys who regularly race at 35 mph). I am hoping their hungover asses will be slow enough I don't get dropped.
Current totals for the week:
Bike: 56 miles
Run: 20 miles
Swim: 2 miles
I'd like to get the run to 40+ miles and get in another swim workout. I am enjoying the bike so it would be nice if I could find the time for another ride but I doubt I can swing it.
Okay, I'm tired. I need to go eat something.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Not Ready for the Road
That is what Ryan told me this morning.
As we lingered in bed over a 2ND cup of coffee this morning--after a sleep-in until an unheard of in this house 8 am--and I asked his opinion on my bike ride today. Yesterday I ran 13 miles and saw no need to punish my legs-- or myself in the heat--again and figured I should finally get to know Lance a little better. So I asked Ryan if he thought it would be better to ride from our house-- pointing out that I had a little concern about the traffic on a few of the roads near our neighborhood; or if he thought it would be better if I just rode from my parents house in Roswell--as there are more back roads and I always see a ton of cyclists when I run through Roswell. What to do, what to do? And Ryan flatly told me that I "wasn't ready for the road yet."
A tiny part of me had my feelings hurt but I know he was basing this on the little tutorial he gave me about Lance a few weeks ago. Immediately following the lesson of this-how-your-gears-work-now-go-practice-what-I-told-you I came back walking Lance because my chain had fallen off because I did exactly what he told me not to do. So his opinion was not completely unfounded and was not aimed at chipping away at my ever so "fragile" self esteem.
He was helpful and put Lance in my car for me and told me to go to the Greenway. I said okay but totally lied. See, I've made quite a few spins there and really needed to go somewhere I could practice changing gears. I needed hills. So instead of driving all the way across town to the Greenway--which would have wasted an hour of my 2 hour window--I went to my parents house in Roswell to see if I could convince Pop to ride with me.
I figured if Steph is road ready then I am too, damn it!
But Pop said nothing doing. No time for a ride this morning. He was cutting tile and refused to leave his project. Then he noted that I was not wearing my helmet and got all angry and started to rail into me with a lecture on safety. I quickly explained that my helmet was in the car along with Lance and my shoes and gloves (I know! I have gloves. How professional am I? Okay, they were Lala's.) I snarkily told Pop that I didn't know I was suppose to wear the helmet to drive. And Lala, ever the one snark up you, pointed out that given my history that it might not exactly be all that bad of an idea if I did wear it to drive. Ha ha. I have such funny parents.
Once we got past the fact that I did indeed have all the necessary equipment, and no knowledge of how to fix anything if it happened to break and went over the hand signals-- that Pop says no one uses-- he told me a couple of routes to go.
I said I wanted hills and by golly I got them. To start out I got brave doing a few laps on my parents road (it is a little over a mile long) and then headed out and cut in and cut of neighborhoods. I rode into Steph's hood and saw her and her pal Michelle running and then saw Steph's husband Doug-- who is also triathlon training. Chatted for a bit and then headed back into hill climbing through their neighborhood. Then I set out, big gulp, onto real roads with real cars and real traffic lights and real stops signs. And it was really really scary--but I did it and I did it all by myself.
I was super slow too--20 miles at just over 13mph. It probably could have been faster had I not been so scared on the downhills. I think I am going to go through brakes faster than most people. I pretty much have the gears on the right side figured out. The left side? Well, I didn't touch it. My bike--Ryan says they are called sprockets--has three rings/sprockets. I kept it on the second "sprocket"--not sure if I am saying that right but last time I messed with the left side my chain fell off and I wasn't taking any chances of that happening today.
So yay! I did it and since I didn't die--as I was pretty much thinking the chances were high that I would--I am excited and want to go again.
How crazy is that?
I also swam today but not sure I should even count it. Total I did 3 400's but it was a 400m during each of the three "adult swims" at the pool. And it was while I was drinking beers. Oddly, the last 400m felt the best. But I am guessing it isn't exactly brilliant to train while throwing the brewskies back. What can I say, everyone has their own methods. Some are more effective than others and some, well, are not but they are more fun.
As we lingered in bed over a 2ND cup of coffee this morning--after a sleep-in until an unheard of in this house 8 am--and I asked his opinion on my bike ride today. Yesterday I ran 13 miles and saw no need to punish my legs-- or myself in the heat--again and figured I should finally get to know Lance a little better. So I asked Ryan if he thought it would be better to ride from our house-- pointing out that I had a little concern about the traffic on a few of the roads near our neighborhood; or if he thought it would be better if I just rode from my parents house in Roswell--as there are more back roads and I always see a ton of cyclists when I run through Roswell. What to do, what to do? And Ryan flatly told me that I "wasn't ready for the road yet."
A tiny part of me had my feelings hurt but I know he was basing this on the little tutorial he gave me about Lance a few weeks ago. Immediately following the lesson of this-how-your-gears-work-now-go-practice-what-I-told-you I came back walking Lance because my chain had fallen off because I did exactly what he told me not to do. So his opinion was not completely unfounded and was not aimed at chipping away at my ever so "fragile" self esteem.
He was helpful and put Lance in my car for me and told me to go to the Greenway. I said okay but totally lied. See, I've made quite a few spins there and really needed to go somewhere I could practice changing gears. I needed hills. So instead of driving all the way across town to the Greenway--which would have wasted an hour of my 2 hour window--I went to my parents house in Roswell to see if I could convince Pop to ride with me.
I figured if Steph is road ready then I am too, damn it!
But Pop said nothing doing. No time for a ride this morning. He was cutting tile and refused to leave his project. Then he noted that I was not wearing my helmet and got all angry and started to rail into me with a lecture on safety. I quickly explained that my helmet was in the car along with Lance and my shoes and gloves (I know! I have gloves. How professional am I? Okay, they were Lala's.) I snarkily told Pop that I didn't know I was suppose to wear the helmet to drive. And Lala, ever the one snark up you, pointed out that given my history that it might not exactly be all that bad of an idea if I did wear it to drive. Ha ha. I have such funny parents.
Once we got past the fact that I did indeed have all the necessary equipment, and no knowledge of how to fix anything if it happened to break and went over the hand signals-- that Pop says no one uses-- he told me a couple of routes to go.
I said I wanted hills and by golly I got them. To start out I got brave doing a few laps on my parents road (it is a little over a mile long) and then headed out and cut in and cut of neighborhoods. I rode into Steph's hood and saw her and her pal Michelle running and then saw Steph's husband Doug-- who is also triathlon training. Chatted for a bit and then headed back into hill climbing through their neighborhood. Then I set out, big gulp, onto real roads with real cars and real traffic lights and real stops signs. And it was really really scary--but I did it and I did it all by myself.
I was super slow too--20 miles at just over 13mph. It probably could have been faster had I not been so scared on the downhills. I think I am going to go through brakes faster than most people. I pretty much have the gears on the right side figured out. The left side? Well, I didn't touch it. My bike--Ryan says they are called sprockets--has three rings/sprockets. I kept it on the second "sprocket"--not sure if I am saying that right but last time I messed with the left side my chain fell off and I wasn't taking any chances of that happening today.
So yay! I did it and since I didn't die--as I was pretty much thinking the chances were high that I would--I am excited and want to go again.
How crazy is that?
I also swam today but not sure I should even count it. Total I did 3 400's but it was a 400m during each of the three "adult swims" at the pool. And it was while I was drinking beers. Oddly, the last 400m felt the best. But I am guessing it isn't exactly brilliant to train while throwing the brewskies back. What can I say, everyone has their own methods. Some are more effective than others and some, well, are not but they are more fun.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Baiting the Universe
I don't know why but the universe is clearly not getting the message that I am a princess. I am sleeping on a mattress with not just one tiny uncomfortable pea wedged in it but--with how things have been going lately--a whole garden of peas. Not comfy at all.
So things have been sucky. Owning your own business is hard. Having a landscape business during a drought? Well, let's just say things could be better if it were wetter.
I have been wondering though, quite out loud, lately as to why the universe seems to be missing my obvious entitlement. And I think perhaps it is my fault. I am thinking I have some how misled the universe---wise as it is-- and it was unable to pick up on my, I think, obvious princesseness. Or perhaps I have not acted the princess that I mostly definitely feel that I am. I don't know. Sigh. What to do, what to do. . .
While I was out for my run today I ran past some men fishing in a pond and I had the proverbial "duh" moment. It was then that I realized that fishing might be why the universe might not know I am a princess. It makes perfect sense. Why just the other day Carmella--our resident princess expert--told me that princesses do not fish. She explained that this is because they would smell stinky and everyone knows, if nothing else, a princess is most definitely not stinky.
So that must be why the universe didn't know I was princess. No not because I am stinky--well I am after I go running and stuff but I was referring to the fishing part.
See when I was little I use to love to fish in the pond next my neighborhood. I would make a pole out of a stick and some borrowed fishing line and a hook from Dad's tackle box. Then I would get a can of corn out of the pantry as I could not stand the live bait. And everyone knows fish are smart enough to not want a rubber worm. So corn it was.
Then I would spend all afternoon catching brim. I would marvel at their glittering reflective scales and prickly fin that they would throw up laughably in defense. I know they are ugly fish but I liked them and I would take them home intent to keep them as pets. I would put them in this old fashioned heavy glass box. It was fancy. Not sure if it was a proper fish tank or not but that is what I used it for. Usually the brim would die after a few days and I would throw them in the creek in our yard--giving them a proper fish funeral -- but more often my mom would make me march back to the pond and dump them back in. I am guessing I probably caught the same fishes all summer long.
When I was older we moved into a house on a lake. And there, because I was the girl who had a private lake in her backyard, I spent my summers pretending to like to fish for the sake of some boyfriend or another. Ugh! I am just embarrassed when I think back to those wasted hours I sat in a canoe being told to shush--I might scare the bass away--as I tried to feign interest while the love of my life dujour waxed on romantically about his love for fishing. I think that this is where the universe assumed I was not on the path to all things princess.
But wait, it gets worse because then I had a boyfriend who tried to seduce me with the romance of fly fishing. We are talking trout here. Sure they have rainbows and are sparkly but really it is just a fish. Fish are not sexy. At all. I don't care how long your pole is and what sort of fly you got on your hook. That vest and that hat and those waders? Not doing it for me. Undeterred though he tried to lure me into the sport; saying it was like a graceful ballet and that making those little "flies" were a zen like experience. He tossed his lines and River Whyed me all day long. Time though proved that there was no grace in my tangled lines and fashioning flies was more a study in tediousness than zen for me. But whatever. Moving on.
In my defense I will say that in the end I thankfully married a man who does not like to fish. Well, except deep sea fishing and honestly that is something I can dip my toes in a little. But that is only because I like boats. Carmella said princesses like boats. Big fancy boats to be sure. Not canoes.
But here I find myself in yet another summer and I am fishing again. To be certain I am not fashioning a pole out of found stick and borrowed line and hook but instead out of random thoughts and optimism. I am stringing wistful sentences and plea bargains-- baiting the universe, if you will, and tossing my line out there. And I do not want any ugly old brims or big mouth bass or rainbow trouts hanging on my hooks. Instead, I am hoping that I will finally reel in that glittering crown and my entitlement but damn it at the very least I am just praying that I catch a big fat break.
So things have been sucky. Owning your own business is hard. Having a landscape business during a drought? Well, let's just say things could be better if it were wetter.
I have been wondering though, quite out loud, lately as to why the universe seems to be missing my obvious entitlement. And I think perhaps it is my fault. I am thinking I have some how misled the universe---wise as it is-- and it was unable to pick up on my, I think, obvious princesseness. Or perhaps I have not acted the princess that I mostly definitely feel that I am. I don't know. Sigh. What to do, what to do. . .
While I was out for my run today I ran past some men fishing in a pond and I had the proverbial "duh" moment. It was then that I realized that fishing might be why the universe might not know I am a princess. It makes perfect sense. Why just the other day Carmella--our resident princess expert--told me that princesses do not fish. She explained that this is because they would smell stinky and everyone knows, if nothing else, a princess is most definitely not stinky.
So that must be why the universe didn't know I was princess. No not because I am stinky--well I am after I go running and stuff but I was referring to the fishing part.
See when I was little I use to love to fish in the pond next my neighborhood. I would make a pole out of a stick and some borrowed fishing line and a hook from Dad's tackle box. Then I would get a can of corn out of the pantry as I could not stand the live bait. And everyone knows fish are smart enough to not want a rubber worm. So corn it was.
Then I would spend all afternoon catching brim. I would marvel at their glittering reflective scales and prickly fin that they would throw up laughably in defense. I know they are ugly fish but I liked them and I would take them home intent to keep them as pets. I would put them in this old fashioned heavy glass box. It was fancy. Not sure if it was a proper fish tank or not but that is what I used it for. Usually the brim would die after a few days and I would throw them in the creek in our yard--giving them a proper fish funeral -- but more often my mom would make me march back to the pond and dump them back in. I am guessing I probably caught the same fishes all summer long.
When I was older we moved into a house on a lake. And there, because I was the girl who had a private lake in her backyard, I spent my summers pretending to like to fish for the sake of some boyfriend or another. Ugh! I am just embarrassed when I think back to those wasted hours I sat in a canoe being told to shush--I might scare the bass away--as I tried to feign interest while the love of my life dujour waxed on romantically about his love for fishing. I think that this is where the universe assumed I was not on the path to all things princess.
But wait, it gets worse because then I had a boyfriend who tried to seduce me with the romance of fly fishing. We are talking trout here. Sure they have rainbows and are sparkly but really it is just a fish. Fish are not sexy. At all. I don't care how long your pole is and what sort of fly you got on your hook. That vest and that hat and those waders? Not doing it for me. Undeterred though he tried to lure me into the sport; saying it was like a graceful ballet and that making those little "flies" were a zen like experience. He tossed his lines and River Whyed me all day long. Time though proved that there was no grace in my tangled lines and fashioning flies was more a study in tediousness than zen for me. But whatever. Moving on.
In my defense I will say that in the end I thankfully married a man who does not like to fish. Well, except deep sea fishing and honestly that is something I can dip my toes in a little. But that is only because I like boats. Carmella said princesses like boats. Big fancy boats to be sure. Not canoes.
But here I find myself in yet another summer and I am fishing again. To be certain I am not fashioning a pole out of found stick and borrowed line and hook but instead out of random thoughts and optimism. I am stringing wistful sentences and plea bargains-- baiting the universe, if you will, and tossing my line out there. And I do not want any ugly old brims or big mouth bass or rainbow trouts hanging on my hooks. Instead, I am hoping that I will finally reel in that glittering crown and my entitlement but damn it at the very least I am just praying that I catch a big fat break.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)