Not a Cool Kid

It’s become very clear to me I will never be one of those cool athletes. You know the kind: they look all sleek and natural and like they were born to wear compression shorts and to cross finish lines, breaking the tape and throwing their arms in the air. They cruise along on their aero bars with their crazy-ass helmets that have tails and don’t miss a beat when they take a drink or eat a gel. Their sculpted muscles fit perfectly into their racing clothing and they always have on a game face. A look of pure determination and athleticism.

Chrissie Wellington

I don’t have it in me. I’m am just not that cool.

For example, today at my cycling group I was informed that triathletes don’t usually keep reflectors on their bike wheels. DOH! As I was being told this, someone else pointed out that I still had the price tag sticker on one of my spokes. DOH!

Bike lock combo = FART. I bet the pros don’t have a secret code like that.

Despite the dorkiness factor, I am one of those people that is so uncool that they are almost cool. We all knew those types in high school. The nerd who one day became popular because they could laugh at themselves and everyone started to think they were pretty funny. That was kind of me. I was never totally a nerd, but I was always the class clown kid. I knew I would never be noticed for my looks or boobs. My brains were okay, but nothing exceptional. So I played up the humor.

Once in 7th grade, I wore overalls which I guess invited torture and I was hung on the monkey bars, so high that I couldn’t get down by myself. I just hung there for a bit. But, I thought it was pretty funny, and some cute guy came and rescued me so it all worked out okay. Damsel in distress and all that.

Anyway, I digress.

Last night was my first open water swim ever. I got in a mile before it started lightening, so we had to get out.

I grew up in Maryland and Greece going to the beach, but it’s not like I would get in the ocean and swim 2,000 yards before breakfast. Too busy watching “I Dream of Jeannie.” (I used to love it when Jeannie would get in her bottle and you got to see the inside with all of its fluffy pillows and pink drapey curtains. I used to try to make my forts look like that).

I loved the open water. There is something so natural about being in “real” water versus pool water. The only thing, is I really wish there was a line on the bottom of the reservoir so I could see where the hell I was going. I got of course quite a bit. Guess I need to learn some sort of spotting technique. Any ideas?

If I ever start to feel down on myself because I am uncool, I can just gaze at this makeover Emma did of me on her iPod. Clearly I am meant to have a beehive.

Or, I could just get all excited that they are writing “suar” on the roads during the Tour de France to honor me:

Which do you like better, pool or open water? I’m new in the open water, but I think I like that more.

What’s your favorite older show? I love “I Dream of Jeannie” and “The Love Boat”

What’s the most uncool athlete thing you’ve ever done? My list is too long. Wetsuit worn inside out, crapping my pants, reflectors on bike to name a few.

SUAR

PS: Just tried Honey Stinger Waffles. Those things are the shit. My new favorite fueling. 160 cals, 21 g carbs. I ordered them from Runningwarehouse.com. Use coupon code “rwjuly” to get an extra 10% off.

Hurricane Bertha and the Wetsuit

If you, too, want to look like an ass at your local pool, just do what Ken and I did last night.

So, the plan was to find wetsuits and go out to the local reservoir to get in our first open water swim (OWS). We’ve put this off far too long and the race is now only a month away. Ken rented a wetsuit in Boulder. I borrowed one from a friend hoping there were no pee stains or skids (there weren’t). We sent Sam off to baseball and sent Emma to a friend’s house. We were free to go kick some open water swim ass (OWSA).

The closer it got to the the time to leave, the darker the skies got and the windier the air became. “Toughsky shitsky,” as my dad used to say (I think that’s Russian). I was going no matter what. It could be hurricane Big Bertha around here and nothing was going to stop me. What’s the worse that could happen? I drown and leave my children motherless? Big whoop.

We got to the reservoir and I noticed major white caps in the water and rough seas. Like I always do, I figured the more challenges and ball busting stuff that happens, the better it is for my training, right?

Best laid plans.

No open water swim due to rough waters. Bunch of pussies.

Plan B: Ken suggests going to our local outdoor pool and swimming in our wetsuits to try them out. I know we are gong to look ridiculous swimming laps at a crowded family pool on an 85 degree day in a wetsuit, but no way am I not getting my workout in. In the damn wetsuit.

There is no dressing room at the pool. It is under construction. So we are both on the side of the pool trying to squeeze our parts into these wetsuits which is kind of like when you are 17 trying to put on your Jordache Jeans and you have to lie down on the bed just to pull them up and zip them. Or squeezing a fat Italian sausage into something tight. TWSS.

I now realize that Body Glide would have helped tremendously, but that never occurred to me at the time.

So, I finally get my wetsuit on. I am stifling hot. I ask Ken to zip it up in the back. He can’t figure it out because….I had it on inside out. I am not shitting you. I swear, if I make it through this race in one piece and don’t die from doing something absurdly stupid, it will be amazing.

Remove wetsuit. Turn right side out. Squeeze into suit again. I am smiling but I am really suffocating and my boobs are being smashed to bits. No camel toe, though.

That dude in the back is the one I had for my disastrous first master’s swim – now he really thinks I’m special. He is doing Eagle pose.

We just did 1,500 yards. The buoyancy of the suit is awesome, but takes some getting used to. I was scalding hot in this thing, though, I realized I really want a sleeveless number for doing summer tris in Colorado.

The very, very good news is that Xterra, one of the best well known makers of wetsuits, says they will give me a wetsuit in exchange for a product review. Score.

Simply awesome of them!  Oh snap, I am going to be one stylin’ Xterra chick. I may swim slow as an ant in molasses, but I will look good. Maybe not like her up there, but good enough. I may consider doing the whole race in that suit.

Do you get like that too? You are simply NOT willing to give up the damn workout come hell or high water?

SUAR

PS: Don’t forget my $50 Active Headband giveaway!

Purple Orgasm

There was a party here last night that included some good old fashioned gambling around the pool table (don’t be jealous of my wood siding):

My dad was stressing out because he just bet all his retirement money:

In the end, Emma’s best friend won all the cashola. I hope she takes me out for sushi. I like unagi and spider rolls.

There were a few Jell-O shots for the mature people in the crowd.

This level of imbibing and debauchery made for a terrible night’s rest, but I dragged my ass out of bed at 5:30 a.m. anyway. The house was not a total wreck, although there can never be a party without a sticky floor the next morning.

My plan this morning was to run for an hour (6.5 miles) before meeting up with my son’s middle school cross country team for a three mile run. I like to run before I meet people to run. It’s how I am.  Only a few kids showed up (slackers), and of course one of them was my kid because he knew he would be grounded and spanked if he didn’t. 

That made for 10 miles of running for me this morning. At mile five I saw two peacocks cross the road which really freaked me out because I did not know Colorado had peacocks. Maybe I was hallucinating due to the Jell-O shots. Tomorrow I might see giraffes.

I came home and chugged a huge glass of chocolate milk which has become my favorite recovery food/drink. It is like crack to me. I will actually fantasize about chocolate milk while I am working out. The cute milk delivery person brings it to my house on Monday mornings and I love him for it.

I am doing double workouts today. Tonight I have my first ever open water swim at Union Reservoir:

Actually, I am lying. I have swam in the open water before when I took trips to the beach with my family when I was twelve. Yes, I have procrastinated on getting into the open water, but I can no longer deny that my race is fastly approaching and if I have any hope of not drowning, I need to get out there and get out there fast. The other thing I need to do is find a damn wetsuit. I am hoping someone will leave theirs at the reservoir and I can adopt it as my own. Actually, maybe I will just make my own wetsuit out of an old tent and some yarn.

Not long ago the reservoir was closed because of poop in the water. Ick. I’m going to do my best to avoid oblong brown things.

What kind of wetsuit do you use? Do you buy or rent? Do you pee in it?

Do you ever do two-a-day workouts? If so, do you shower between? I just started doing two-a-days with this HIM training. I sometimes shower, depending on how bad I stink.

Do you eat sushi? What are your favorites? I love sushi and Boulder has some awesome spots. Sushi Hapa is my favorite. It is the one food that never upsets my stomach and never disappoints. I go for the eel (unagi), the spicy tuna, the California rolls and the fancy ones like the purple orgasm and the sticky erection.

SUAR