Ride Out of Redneck Mecca

It was akin to a religious experience:

Pulling into the parking lot from the access road and seeing that big Budweiser sign, smelling the hops (though I think it smelled like french fries) and then seeing a parking lot full of cyclists and cars with bike racks just gave me the warm fuzzies.

I was worried and briefly lost that fuzzy feeling when I stepped out of the car and the first thing I saw was a dead Luna moth. However, I chose not to see it as a potential omen. Which proved wise because apparently seeing moths on bike rides mean nothing as Joe saw one too and he didn't die either.

The Budplant in Carterville, GA. is VERY generous and allows cyclists to use their parking lot and ride out to the country back roads. Recall that in June I rode the Cartersville Century but I have never ridden out of the Budplant. I've heard about it but I have never been there myself.

Until today.

Today Doug, Steph and I headed up to Cartersville to do a practice brick. Word is that Cartersville is very similar to the bike course in the SC Half Iron. And just so you know, this was Steph and Doug's gig. I invited myself along and ruined any chances of afternoon delight in a cow pasture for them. Though, I think, the hours in the saddle probably had that ruled out anyway. But I just wanted to say thanks to them for letting me tag along.

This was my second time this week to practice a brick after a longish bike ride. The past 3 bricks I have done I have struggled with GI issues--which is new for me. The first was 2 weeks ago when I rode 57 miles and then ran a 4 mile brick. I did okay but I couldn't have run more than 4, if you catch my meaning. The next was my 1 mile swim, 36 mile bike and 9.6 mile run. That time I had to stop at 5 miles to use the restroom. And the most painful was just this past Wednesday: 47 miles on the bike and 5k run. Horrible tummy cramps.

So today was my chance to get it right and test out some new nutrition. That was my goal. Doug and Steph's--which I guess I misunderstood-- was to ride race pace and then try to run race pace. I didn't care as much about pace as I did about not having my tummy hurt.

They told me the plan was 17 mph--which is my race goal but I will be fine with anything under 3 hours and 20 minutes. (Really, I am just hoping for some race day magic. ) But I figured 17mph would be fine for me since Neal and I did average that for most of the century ride until I had a huge fade factor around 70 miles.

And fortunately the temperature today was in the high 70's/low 80's. Down right arctic compared to my last bricks that finished up in the low 90's.

Unfortunately Fay was showing us her ass and blowing some big wind our way.

Doug started out very aggressive and I was struggling. I tried to negotiate a bit slower pace since the wind was just killing me but he said no. So I kinda pouted for about oh, 20 miles. But around 25 I realized that I wasn't feeling that bad and I was totally fine and would make it. So for the last part of the ride I actually felt really good. I mean sure I was tired but no more tired than if we had ridden 1-2 mph slower.

We finished at 2:39 at 46.55 miles at 17.6 mph.

Then we, and by we I mean Doug, racked our bikes and we all ran out. Steph said, as always, she was going to go slow and wasn't going to keep up with us. Doug and I hung together the first few miles. The strap on my Garmin broke so it was in my pocket, so no GPS. My achilles started giving me trouble immediately. They have been tight/sore all week and the result is the tight/crampy feeling in my calves that throws off my stride and makes running painful. I had iced them last night--and am icing them now. Still tight.

My hope was that they would loosen up after the first mile. Nope. After the second mile I asked Doug our avg pace: 7:59 he said. A few minutes later I told him I had to walk for a second. He took that opportunity to ditch me and went back to look for Steph who had stopped to meet some trucker's at the truck stop I think. Doug fouled that plan. I think a husband just knows these things.

The tightness eased up after a few seconds and I resumed pace. Since I no longer had my pace reporter with me I operated on the assumption that I was still running around an 8 minute pace. My only goal for the HIM is sub 2 hours. 8 will be fine. Sub7:50 will be ideal. I ran just past 41 minutes to ensure I got in at least 5 miles. Honestly, I wasn't really trying to practice any pace. I just didn't want to have a tummy ache. But the 8 minute pace had felt comfortable (with the exception of the achilles issue) so I assume that is what I maintained. My achilles's did release a little and I finished up feeling great. I thought about running a little more but decided it wouldn't be wise.

So the good news of the day is NO GI issues. Even better, I didn't even have to stop to pee on the run (did on the bike though).

It should be noted that it was cooler today and I did only run 5 miles. BUT every brick my GI issues were presenting themselves before the 4 mile point so I have to assume either what I ate today worked or it just being 10 degrees cooler made the difference.

So in case anyone is curious here is--in my opinion--the ridiculous amount of food for a 3 hour bike ride that I consumed:
24 oz of water
20 oz of HEED
2 GU's (one vanilla, one Roctane)
1.5 packages of Lance's Peanut butter on Wheat crackers.

I also brought 20 oz of HEED on the run but didn't drink very much since I realized I wouldn't need it since I was only running a little while.

Here is the rest of the week's log:
Sunday: Easy day. Rode down at the river for an hour 18.95 miles.

Monday: Slowww 6 mile run--9:19 pace. I had to walk a bit up a hill due to Achilles issues. Then a 2000 yd swim that also sucked (34 minutes/ 1:42 per 100yd avg)

Tuesday: 21 mile run at an 8:12 pace.

Wednesday: Day of doom where I was an anchor. 47 mile ride at 16.4 mph pace. 3.1 mile run in 28 minutes.

Thursday: Lost mojo but rallied myself for an 8 mile run, walked a bit here and there. 9:23 avg pace.

Friday: Again an easy day. 7 miles on the Leita Thompson Trail with Lola. 9:34 avg pace. Bailed on planned swim. Just didn't want to get wet.

Saturday: 46.5 bike 17.6 mph/5 mile run 8:20 pace.

Totals:
Run: 50 miles
Cycle: 112 miles
Swim: 2000 yds

Cartersville Century

Okay.
It is decided.
I am an official endurance addict.
I just love the long events.

Not sure I am ready to put it all together but I LOVE the ups and downs and finding ways to push through the misery and riding the exhalation of the endorphin high. It is amazing to me how you will go from an hour or two of feeling awesome to the next minute feeling like you are dying only to rebound and feel strong again and like you can go forever.

I always expect that once I hit that first downward spiral it is all going to pot but almost always it gets better if I just hang in there. Total physical roller coaster. And, this is the totally insane part, I absolutely adore the spent feeling after I am done. I really like how wasted and weak my body feels. I find it thrilling.

I know. It seems totally crazy to me too.

So yeah, I am so glad I did this ride. It was so much fun and very peaceful. Riding down long country roads. It was just crazily bucolic.

Friday morning I went to the gym to get a little treadmill run in. 4 miles in 29 something minutes. Decent enough run. As I was leaving I saw Neal swimming. I went down to the pool to give him yet another one of my critiques and offer some unsolicited advice of his swim. All in good fun, of course.

I asked him if he was going to do the century ride and he said that he had emailed me about riding together. I misunderstood and thought that he meant drive to Cartersville together and told him eagerly that I could meet him at 6 am at La Fitness. I figured no one I knew would want to ride my slow pace. And besides I know that Neal is much faster than me. He clarified that he meant actually ride the ride with me but also said carpooling would be cool too.

Another swimmer was eavesdropping on our conversation and piped up with his two cents. He said he and a group had ridden the course the previous weekend and that it was actually 106 miles and was very hilly at the end. In particular, he mentioned a steep uphill that made him wish for a granny gear right around 91 miles. He wished me luck.

Neal tried to reassure me that I would have no problems but Pool Boy had put the monkey on my bike.

So while I hadn't previously been too nervous about this ride The Mainstay's psyche-you-out-texts and Pool Boy's warnings now had me very worried.

So went home to prep my bike.

And by prep I mean I clean it with Windex and put some oil on my chain. I also bought a new bike jersey because I find a new outfit always makes me feel confident. I got all my "food" and bike stuff packed and I made the kids clean out and vacuum my car so Neal wouldn't have to ride in absolute filth.

I got up and out the door and was at La Fitness at 6 am on the dot. Neal racked his bike on my car and bungeed them together. He brought his super fabulous GPS and we tossed my Google map. After a stop at QT for coffee for Neal and a throw away camera for me we were off.

We got to the ride start just before 7 am. We went straight to registration and on the way there I ran into Dani. It was her first century too. But she is much more the professional athlete than I. She is training for Ironman Kentucky. And if you notice she has on a team jersey.


Then we hooked up with other tri peeps from NAMSC. Not certain of everyone's name but I remember Greg and he is the one looking at the camera. Neal is the guy pointing. I also met Felix and I don't know why he isn't in this picture. He was there when we were all talking. And I remember Felix's name specifically because really, how often do you meet someone named Felix? I don't know how he escaped my camera.

Not everyone was as lucky to escape my camera though. My friend Paul happened to be parked a few cars down from me. He was not happy to see my camera and told me no spandex pictures but oh well. . .
Paul is actually the one who sent me the link about the ride a week ago. So my ass totally blames him. Paul is quite a tremendous cyclist. He rode with me a month ago and was politely bored while I struggled and sucked tail. He literally pushed me up one hill to help me out. His wife Traci did the 55 mile route so hopefully she'll call me to ride because even if I did those spinervals Dani suggested everyday for 3 years I still don't think I could ever hope to keep up with Paul.

Neal and I had discussed starting out before the official roll at 8 am but that didn't happen. We put ourselves at the back and rolled out into the Cartersville back roads.


I got hot fast and that didn't make me happy. I can totally deal with hot on the bike--much better than hot on the run but it was too early in the ride to have to be hot.

The pace was fine and the course much more forgiving than Roswell. There were hills but nothing too terrible or memorable. The only complaint I have is that we'd have an uphill and then get a downhill and then there would be a long stretch to an uphill and then a quick downhill and then a stop sign and a turn and immediate uphill. So I felt a bit cheated out of my downhill momentum and couldn't work the rollers as I would have liked. Not sure if that makes sense but basically I wanted the hills to be closer together and after the stops signs a downhill instead of an uphill would have been nice. But whatever. It can't all be perfect.

We stopped at every rest stop. I certainly didn't need to but since I wasn't sure how it would all play out I figured I'd be conservative and take all the help offered.

I rode to the first rest stop with Leslie, who I have ridden previously in Roswell with. Leslie is also training for Ironman Kentucky:

After that first rest stop we started coming up on lots of little wrecks and even saw a cyclist sitting in a field and then a fire truck raced past a bit later. It all seemed really early for things to be going south already and it made me nervous considering I am pretty inexperienced on the bike--having only been riding a year and that not so long ago a 30 mile ride was an impossibly long and challenging ride for me. So I was feeling even more cautious and alert than usual.

Yes, despite the taking pictures while rolling.

I am fairly coordinated, most of the time.

Around 24 miles we were coming down a steep hill. At the bottom of the hill the course took a sharp right over a bridge. Neal and I were about 30 feet behind a group of four cyclists: 3 men and 1 woman. They all took the turn way too fast and the woman in the group freaked out. Not sure if she just wasn't ready to turn or being sandwiched between the guys wigged her out but instead of taking the turn she swiveled and went straight into the guard rail of the bridge. Her front tire hit the rail and she and her bike flipped over the bridge and fell straight into the creek below. Seeing that woman flipping in the air still clipped into her bike really was the most spectacular sight I have ever witnessed. Also, completely terrifying to witness. As it could easily happen to me.

We rushed to the bridge and looked down. And there she was about 12 feet down in a dry creek bed sitting on her butt with her bike few feet away. I was expecting to see a girl with her neck broken or twisted leg or at the very least some blood. But she looked okay. She asked what happened and said she was fine. She was even laughing. Honestly though, seeing how she fell I don't know how fine she really could have been.

The image of her flipping over that guard rail haunted me the whole ride. I think it haunted Neal too because at least once an hour during the ride we would revisit the incident and further try to dissect exactly what had happened and whether the girl was really okay.

After the first few stops it was just Neal and I. We'd typically come up to rest a stop and I'd see Dani pulling away from the stop and Leslie, Felix and Greg getting back on their bikes and heading back out.

I really didn't have any problems or discomfort until around miles 80. I started getting chills and was super hot. I wasn't hungry, thirsty or particularly tired. But in addition to the chills I was starting to feel the beginnings of cramps in my arms and also in my left foot and calf. I noticed that wasn't sweating as much as I had been but felt much hotter. I wasn't sure if this was because the sweat was evaporating or I was getting dehydrated. Admittedly, I was a little worried about heat stroke. I know the warning signs: having experienced heat exhaustion at GA ING 07. However, I also knew that I had had chills on many a hot runs and got through those without further problem.

So I was just riding along; thinking and assessing and I guess I was pretty quiet for awhile. Neal noted this. He tried to chat me up and bring me out of the funk and I told him it was just a bad patch and that I would be fine. Honestly though, I really didn't know. I know in marathons I always have bad patches and so far I have managed to move on and finish strong (Country Music Marathon aside) but a bad patch on the bike was a new one for me. I slowed down a lot. I think we had been averaging 16-17mph. But around this time slowed to about 12-13 mph. It wasn't even particularly hilly at this point. I was also still worried about what Pool Boy had said about the "super long bad hill at mile 91" and that the ride was really 106 miles. Not to mention that I had already used my granny gear on a few occasions just to not fatigue myself on the up hills. I was worried that if I really needed it I might not actually make it the hill. I just couldn't bear the idea of having to walk up a hill this late in the game.

I figured I had about 15 more miles in me but I didn't know how much more. I started getting up out of the saddle and shifting around. Finally Neal suggested we stop and look at our map to make sure we were still on course (we had missed a few turns here and there and had to back track a few times). I knew we were on course but figured he wanted to stop cause I was looking bad. I knew there was a stop coming up at 89 miles and wanted to wait but stopped under Neal's "let's check the map" rouse. It was a good call on his part. It felt really good to get off the bike and stretch for a second. I did contemplate laying on the ground and doing a back bend because I felt like my muscles were recoiling into themselves but worried that I might not be able to actually pull it off. Instead I just leaned back a bit and twisted my spine from the waist. It felt amazing.

We did stop again at the last rest stop around 89 miles and put ice in our bottles. Awesome to drink cold water at that point. I also got my second wind and was feeling great and ready to go longer. After we left the rest stop I started noticing on the street ground markings for "105". Then around 91 miles I saw the 105 markings turn off up a steep hill. Happily, our route went straight and I relaxed realizing Pool Boy had done a different course: a 105 course and it went a different way than ours. With that monkey off my bike I was a new woman.

And then I saw a zebra.

I was certain I was hallucinating so I made Neal turn around so I could take a picture. A guy walked by me and said, "there's a water buffalo too."

I didn't see the water buffalo but there were a total of 3 zebras. I don't think you can see them in the picture. Damn crappy throw away camera with no zoom lens. I tried to get as close as possible but they were way in the back near the trailer. Zebras in a trailer park.
Only in Georgia I guess.

A short while later we were winding through Cartersville's main street area back to the park. Neal reported that he had us at only 97 miles. So we rode 3 more miles to make it a full century. So 100.30 miles at a 15.6 mph avg pace. 6 hours 24 minutes. Woo Hoo!

Great ride! I still can't believe I rode a 100 miles and didn't fall, wreck or get a flat. I feel VERY lucky.

Did not die

Almost bonked though. Had a rough patch around mile 80. Entertained some pretty negative thoughts which irritated me but I rallied and got past it to finish strong.

100.30 miles, 15.65 miles per hour (yes, I am slow poke. But I should note this was a tad faster than my previous longest ever ride of 63 miles. So there is potential that someday? I might, kick ass on the bike. Bwhahahaha) Time was 6 and half hours. Ouch for the boo-Tay. But thanks to Dani for the chamois creme. My girly bits thank you too.

Full report with pictures forth coming. Digital camera got dropped in the pool at swim meet Thursday so I bought a throw away for the ride to record for prosperity. And by prosperity I mean blog.

Thanks to the Mainstay for the advice. I take back about wishing you to be a bridesmaid and hope that it was your big day up in Rome this evening.

And HUGE thanks to Neal for offering and actually riding with me. I had a FABULOUS time. It was great meeting everyone and just was a beautiful ride!

Greasing the Chain of a False Analogy

100 miles is a lot farther than 60 miles.

This is what the Mainstay texted me last night. Along with a bunch of other texts served, I think, to psyche me out:

lots of carbs tonight! Steak and baked potatoes tomorrow. Eat like you are in a contest--lots of water and Gatorade tomorrow.

I responded that I always eat like I am in a contest. But, nevertheless, I did eat a lot yesterday. But, then again, I always eat a lot.


Gel or three bloks an hour during ride. At least one big bottle an hour. And munch on bars the whole ride. Tips to success from THE MAINSTAY!

I am fairly certain that The Mainstay was referring to water in "one big bottle" advice but knowing him as I do part of me does wonder if he meant a fifth of something. I probably should have asked for clarification on that point. At any rate I responded to the text that if I eat like that I am going to gain weight on the ride. And to that he wrote, after he told me that I would be burning a bazillion calories:

don't call me when you bonk at miles 90

Hey, and don't call me when you bonk the final lap of your crit and find yourself a bridesmaid. Oh, ouch. But hey, good luck.

Finally, when I asked if he thought it was a bad idea that instead of cycling this past week I have run 43 miles instead. He wrote:

I guess we will find out Saturday afternoon!

I am sure there is a lot of truth to what he says. But I also know this is his MO as I have witnessed him try to take Colby down this way. And I suppose the smack talking did work in that case since Colby got taken out by a wreck--though the wreck wasn't his fault--in the Roswell Crit.

So I am taking it with a grain of salt. And while that may sound like I am not heeding the advice it is quite the contrary. I take salt very seriously. I love salt. I eat a lot of salt. I crave it. I need it. In fact, I just had some salt for breakfast. Sure it was on a bagel with cream cheese but the primary component of that breakfast was definitely salt.

In all honesty though I think I am just not taking this century ride serious enough. And I am certain I will be handed my sore ass on saddle tomorrow as a result of my lackadaisical approach.

But I am sorry. I can't help it.

I am a runner.

And I think running is the hardest physical thing I do--well, aside from raising Beau.

Please, don't misunderstand me. I definitely think cycling is hard but the fact that you do it sitting down just makes it in my mind less of a challenge than running.

Really, I guess I have been thinking about this century ride as a marathon that I get to do sitting down.

I know.

I am trying to compare sprockets to strides. Which as much as I try is probably just not comparable. I guess it will be a bit of an athletic experiment to see if being an endurance runner can prepare you to be an endurance cyclist. But I am placing my bets on that it works out.

What is my scientific basis you might wonder?

Well, The Mainstay did run the Peachtree one year(albeit that's just a 10k) with almost no running. And he put up a not too shabby 53 minute for a crowded, hilly, hot and humid race. Granted there are some holes in my scientific basis but surely if I can run marathons I can do a century. Right? After all, I do cycle more than The Mainstay runs. Then again, he does have youth on his side. . .

At this point the sane and rational side of my brain is most definitely wondering how in the hell I arrived at that riding in a century would be a great idea. Even more so, it is completely boggled as to why I thought I could do it.

But of course the insane and irrational side that unfortunately occupies 90% of my brain knows with almost certainty that come tomorrow afternoon-- just like after the 6 marathons I have done-- I will be happy, probably even proud of myself, for taking on such an endeavor and that I won't regret it. The tough part, of course, will be getting that 10% sane part of myself through the 100 miles. That 10% part of my brain can become quite loud and obnoxious.

Living the Dream

So I am back from the beach. I needed another week.
See.
That is how much fun we had.

Who all here can say that after one week in a beach house with their parents,
their in-laws,
brother-in-laws, sister, sister-in-law and kids and cousins
would want to spend another week doing the exact same thing? Really. Can I see a show of hands?
Probably they were all done with me but whatever I LOVE the beach. So do my kids. We did not want to come home.

And I especially shouldn't have ridden home with my parents. Their travel MO is like nothing I have ever experienced. Me? I am point A to point B and do it as fast as you can and spend as little time in the car as possible type of gal. Pop and Lala? Apparently they love a road trip. Serisously. I have made the Atlanta to Hilton Head trip in as little as 4 hours but generally it is a little less than 5 hours. Same ride with Pop and Lala? 10 hours. Tours of Savannah and Macon included.

I should say that Pop did stop at the outlet so that I could shop. I got some new rags and admiring my new clothes over the course of the ride did console me some. Some.

Anyway, we made it home and I managed to squeak in a little run around 8 pm. 3.5 miles in 27 minutes. I had to walk around for 3 minutes to get me to requisite 30 minutes to stay in the Kindzia streak. Gotta say. That was the closest I've come to goose egging. Only sickness or severe injury is going to take me down.

And yesterday I lived the dream.

What dream is that?

Well, it is the one where I go running and my kids ride their bikes along side me.

Yes, I know we have been doing that but until yesterday I wasn't able to run my regular pace. There was lots of stopping and starting and sprinting while the kids took breaks or Beau caught up. But now that Beau is free wheeling without the training wheels I am the one that they have to wait on. However, Beau still needed a few breaks but even with the breaks we managed 6 miles in 51 minutes--that is an 8:30 pace per mile and since that includes break time I would guess my actual running pace was closer to a 7:30 mile. Not a bad workout at all. Carmella was even championing for 10 miles. I was game but Beau and Lola were not. Oh well. Later this summer.

I am thinking come fall easily they can clock a few 12 mile marathon pace runs with me. Trust me. Nothing motivates you to run faster than the fear of losing your kids on a bike trail. So you push it just to keep up.

I have to say. Having kids has made me a faster runner. Before I had kids I was forever stuck in that 9 minute mile range. After Carmella someone would give me an hour to run and I would squeeze as many miles as I could into that hour. It was then that I started seeing the 8:30 minute miles. Then after Beau there was a shelf life to his patience in the jogger. I was forever running out of my comfort zone just to get the miles in before he melted. All the sudden I was seeing sub 8:30 and even some sub 8 minute miles. And then the marathon came along and the times just started dropping down. But now I am stuck in the 7-8 minute mile limbo (except the marathon where I am over the 8 minute mile).

But I am thinking that having to chase down my kids on their bikes is what is going to finally open up that sub 7 minute mile door for me--at least for the shorter distances. And I am even cautiously optimistic that I might even run past that 8 minute mile pace for the marathon and find myself going sub 3:30 at Rocket City this fall. Yeah. I know. That is a whole lotta optimism.But like the title says: I'm living the dream. Trying to at least.

Anyway. . .

We have the beach trip all tied up and it is time to get back to some focus. I am planning on a century ride this Saturday (anyone else? It's the one in Cartersville) and then I am going to get serious about a half iron man this September. Yep. It is still there bleeping on my radar.

The bike is the weak link and I am hoping after the ride Saturday I will see my bike fitness leapfrog. Right. I know. I need to practice the bricks but once I get over the distance on the bike I think the swim and run will fall easily into place for me. Pretty much every time I get in the pool I am swimming at least a mile and the half marathon is my favorite distance. After 10 years of running only once has a half marathon taken me more than 2 hours. And that was because I pregnant. For the past 2 years I've been around 1:40. It is just the bike that holds me back. In July I will work on putting all the pieces together.

Vacation Week Totals:
Running: 27.5 miles (so very sad)
Cycling: 65 miles
Mountain Biking: 2 hours 20 minutes
Kayaking (with beer): 90 minutes
Stunt Kiting: 30 minutes
Ocean Swimming: little bit everyday
Beer Drinking: 24/7
Final Pictures:
Some aforementioned stunt kiting with The Mainstay:



My hawt husband:

Yoga with Lala and Pookie


Me doing tree:

Pat and Carmella trying some poses:

Pookie and I showing off our shag:

And other photags:

I am here, I am fine

Hi! Anyone still reading here?
Sorry.
No reason for lack of posting other than I am adjusting to having my kids 24/7 since they are out of school. They get up at 7--sometimes before-- and don't go to bed until 8pm. Beau is constantly bored and needs lots of guidance. And I can't blog at the pool and I am at the pool a lot. Free time is spent running, cycling, swimming, cleaning or doing business stuff. So less time to write about my silly self-absorbed endeavors.

As promised here are some pictures from Carmella's dance recital:



Yeah, yeah, she's cute and all but the whole dance thing is kinda creepy in its pageantry. It is more dress up than sport. Not even Carmella really likes it. She'll do the hair and make up thing and get on stage and do the dance no problem but the first thing she wants to do when it is over is wash her face, take her hair down and get out of that costume.

I don't know. I just think it is wrong to put make up on a 7 year old.

But here are some pictures of her that make my heart do the proud mama dance: Carmella right before her first ever swim meet event. The 50 free! She was the first event: girls 7-8 yr olds, 50 free. I could tell she was nervous. She got 4th (out of 6) and her time was 1:20. But she loved it. Before putting her to bed that night she said "Mommy, you know what?"
And I said "What?"
And she said, "I was smiling while I was swimming."
And I said, "Why?"
And she said,"Because I could hear you yelling my name.You are the loudest mom out there."
Just to prove how loud I was for the next meet I brought a cow bell to cheer her on during her events. Ryan took it away.

Her 25yd backstroke: 32 seconds. Faster than her 25 Freestyle: 34 seconds. We had a talk about that and this week she brought the 25 free down to 29 seconds.
Carmella with the Gator Lala drew on her back. I actually had to show Carmella the email that said I was to write all over her body in sharpie. She wouldn't let me write any spirit stuff that first meet on her but for the second meet she trusted Lala to draw on her.

I am so proud of her. She improves everyday. She definitely gets sick of my swim advice but she watches me while I swim and I see her trying to mimic it. Problem is that I do not swim aggressively when I swim laps. So she is mimicking my long swim pace. I need to practice the sprints so she can see how it is done.

And yes, I am so jealous and want to be on the swim team too. I'm just dying for Coach Aaron to say, "Nat, get in the pool and practice with the team."
Sigh.
So far no invitations.
But I did check all the times for the 15-17 age group. (You know, age group closest to my age. BTW, 37 next month. July 7th, hint hint.) And I could totally be competitive--even against the boys. I have been working on my butterfly you know. It is coming along. Ryan said I looked powerful the other day. But he was probably just trying to get in my pants. But Carmella's friend, a much more reliable source, told her mom that I was a professional swimmer after I had given her and Carmella some special instruction at an afternoon pool playdate (am I a fun mom or what?). I don't know about the professional part but yeah, I can swim well.

At any rate, I am trying really hard to not live vicariously through my daughter and still do my own thing. Which last week broke down as this:
Sunday: 10 miles 8:24 pace

Monday: 5am 6 mile run with Sam, 30 minute lap swim while kids had practice: 1 mile

Tuesday: 4 mile treadmill run: 29:12, walked it out for 5 minutes.

Wednesday: 9 miles (6 with Sam and then tacked on 3 more)

Thursday: 6 miles with Sam, 30 minute swim (1 mile)

Friday: 6 miles on the treadmill: 44 minutes. Pyramid run: 8:03, 7:09, 6:33, 7:07, 7:24, 7:41.

Saturday: 55 mile bike. Hot as hell not to mention hilly. Just under 14 mph. Sigh. I am slow. 1000 yd swim later in the afternoon.

Totals;
Run: 41 miles
Cycle: 55 miles
Swim: 4400 yds

I know. Boring. I'll try harder to be more consistent, not to mention entertaining.

Ride to the Capitol 2008

Yesterday morning I did the 3rd annual ride on the Capitol. But before I headed out I read of this cycling tragedy. The entire story is just devastating and what I find particularly frightening is that this was a group, supported ride. Certainly, when I head out solo on the streets I know I am pretty much risking life and death but on the rare occasions that I get to go on a group ride I feel secure and relaxed. This story made me realize that I will never be able to feel relaxed or should I feel secure on my bike where there are cars present. And this is absolutely what will keep me from ever fully embracing the sport of cycling. I just like living too much.

After reading the story I seriously considered bailing on the organized ride. As much as I love to ride my bike the risk of dying while doing it is not worth it. I don't love it that much.

However, I rationalized that if any time I was going to be safe on my bike on a road in Atlanta the ride to the Capitol was it. The ride, (albeit slow going out) is police escorted, and the road is essentially blocked by the peleton. Not to mention there is sag support. Really, the greatest obstacle of this ride is to avoid hitting one of the other few hundred cyclists around you.

The weather yesterday was less than stellar for bike riding (but great for running!)--40's, overcast, even a bit drizzly. But the ride was good. And I was quite grateful to James of Roswell Bikes who lent me his leg warmers. See. I just love the Atlanta cycling community. Everyone and I mean everyone I encounter is so friendly and very encouraging. I met so many nice people yesterday. I think a lot of people view cyclists as elitist but every cyclist I have ever met practically begs you to get involved in the sport.

I really hope this ride continues to be an annual event and that every year more and more people get out there for it. Because I think, in this case, there really is power in numbers. The more cyclists that brave the road; the safer the roads will be everyone. I mean really. How great would it be if you could ride your bike around the corner for a gallon of milk rather than have to drive your gas guzzling car for 3 miles? I think, that would be awesome.

In other news I am way tired this morning. Not because of the ride but because I had an evening out with the kittens, aka Fishstick and Pookie. Silliness, of course, ensued.

I know, it does look like I am about to drag Stick down the street by her hair.
But really what is going on is us-- unsuccessfully--trying to reenact the painting in the window of this gallery. Yeah, I don't know why. That is just how it is with the kittens: silliness. It ensues.

Yesterday was a good day: I got to ride my bike and I didn't die, I got to meet new and friendly faces and then drinks and silliness with friends. A good day indeed.

PS Steph, Stick brought us our awards from the 10k.

PPS. I wrote and edited this while Beau sat next to and talked nonstop to me. Sorry. But I am sure you understand if you have a four year old. The chatter. It is maddening and unending.