A lot of people get into triathlons because they have a background in one of the 3 sports. You know, like they've run 21 full marathons already and wanted to add some triathlons for the cross training benefits. Or they were champion college swimmers and wanted to try something new. In other words, a lot of triathletes have a strong sport.
Those of you that know me know that I do not fit into this catagory. In fact, I am proud to say that I suck equally at all three sports. I'm not a natural athlete by any stretch of the imagination. But, as my Uncle Jim always said when he played a piano song no one knew the words to, "If you don't know the words, just sing louder." In other words, fake it till you make it. So I just flail my arms and legs around in the direction of the bouys, keep spinning on the bike, and keep putting one foot in front of the other on the run. And, I'm happy to say that this got me to the finish line back in May.
After the shock of actually finishing my first triathlon, I decided maybe I should try and improve. You know, like learn how to swim and learn how to my bike works. Details, details. So I signed up for a swim group and started getting more consistant with the running. I also talked my friend Glen into taking me on several torturous bike rides through Red Rock. Here is how those things went:
1. Swimming- I am officially the slowest swimmer on Earth, well at least the slowest swimmer in my group, but not by that much which is good cause I just feel slow as opposed to totally pathetic. My coach is a good guy and so are the other slow people in my lane. Last class we were suppose to swim some drills for 700 meters. I always get so exhausted that I lose count, so I just keep going till someone tells me I can stop. Anyhow, the other day, the coach said stop and I was really surprised at how fast those 700 meters went by so I said, "Hey was that really 700 meters?" He smiled at me and stage whispered, "No, you only did 600, but that's ok." Awww. Thanks coach.
That's just the kind of modification I make for the really low kids in my class. I pull them to the back table and just make them do half the math problems with my help. The whole swim class really reminds me of reading groups cause the fast swimmer are a couple lanes over doing something totally different while I learn how to do the front crawl the right way.
2. Running- So did I mention I also run really slow. But that's ok because I'm currently really happy about this area. Luckily, I've been able to convince my friend Jamie to train with me for a half marathon in December. So we have been running together 2 times a week. I've come to love this time because it is the only time I have to speak with another adult uninterrupted for an hour. Those of you that have children know that an uninterrupted conversation is virtually unheard of after one has given birth. I can't even use the bathroom without an audience these days, so running has become a good escape. In fact, I find myself wanting to run an extra mile so I can have just a few more minutes of peace.
I also joined a running group that meets once a week. And believe it or not, there is a whole group of people who run as slow as me. Who knew?
3. Biking- Even as a kid, I never much rode a bike. I don't really know the first thing about how a bike works. In fact, in the beginning if I could get on and off the bike without killing myself and maintain my balance for a few miles I called it a success. The only person I knew who knew anything about bikes was Glen, who taught 4th grade with me when I worked at Whitney.
So, I emailed him, and he took pity on me and offered to take me biking out at Red Rock. This is where the torture began. I will give Glen credit that he didn't kill me my first day and he always stayed with me no matter how painfully slow I was going. But, let's just say he defined the meaning of climbing hills for me. For those of you that live in the Las Vegas area, you may be familiar with the Red Rock Scenic loop. The first 5 miles are a non-stop uphill climb, like a slow march towards death. I can't manage to make myself go more than 5 mph at some points. Hell, I could WALK faster than I'm able to bike on that hill. And I thought people seeing me in labor was embarassing. During this lovely bike ride, I start breathing like some kind of farm animal. I get so congested I have no choice but to blow snot rockets like a teenage boy. And when I really push myself, the other cyclists on the loop have the pleasure of seeing me stumble off my bike as I try not to puke down the front of my jersey. Of course, Glen finds this all highly amusing as he asks me if I'm ok in a voice that does not sound the least bit out of breath. Whatever, shut up.
But just like my running time with Jamie, the bike rides with Glen have been a nice break from the kids. And I like to see what I'm really capable of doing and how far I can go. And just like Jamie and I are planning to do the half marathon, Glen has talked me into doing a 110 mile bike ride in October. So it gives me yet another reason why I need to make myself go a little further each time.
After all this training (yes, I no longer workout, as a triathlete I now "train" just to be extra obnoxious) I hoped to do a bit better on my second triathlon, but was not expecting any miracles. So I was definately pleasantly surprised to say the least with what happened in California this weekend.
To Be Continued...
Monday, July 12, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Movies & Ice Cream
Sometimes doing simple things can be anything but. Take tonight's outing with the boys for example.
The first stop of the night was Blockbuster. All the kids movies that are not new releases are $1. So the deal is that each of the boys gets to pick 2 movies from this section. Like a moth to a flame, Nico immediately finds 2 copies of Kung Fu Panda and hugs them tightly to his chest. "Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! KUNG FU PANDA!!"
Now, here's a little background for you. We OWN Kung Fu Panda. In fact, Nico has already seen it several times today. Well, not exactly. He hasn't seen the whole movie several times today. Just his favorite scenes. He knows how to work the DVD player to find all the fighting scenes which he reinacts with Mateo, jumping from couch to couch, screaming and kicking and punching. He always take the role of the bad guy who he calls "black tiger". His favorite toy is a black tiger action figure that came in his Happy Meal months ago. Not knowing the location of this toy at all times is enough to bring on a full hysterical crying melt down. So, it's not very surprising that this is his choice.
"Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! KUNG FU PANDA!!" He's voice is starting to go up an octave as he frantically waves the movies in front of me. "Yeah," I say calmly, "You're right. That is Kung Fu Panda. We have that at home. Go pick something else."
"Ahhhhh!!!!! Nooooo!!!!! I want Kung Fu Panda, I want Kung Fu Panda, I want Kung Fu Panda..."
I know there's some correct response on my part, but I just want to leave, so I say, "Ok, let's get Kung Fu Panda! Give the movies to mommy. I have to pay for them." Nico seems satified and hands over the 2 copies of Kung Fu Panda. Mateo, who thankfully gets the idea that he is suppose to pick two different movies that we DON"T own, gives me his two picks. I whisper to the cashier to please return the 2 copies of Kung Fu Panda to the shelf after we leave and discreetly hide the other 2 in our bag after paying.
I distract Nico by talking about our next stop. Ice Cream. Mateo knows exactly what he wants, which of course, is what Nico wants too. The cone with rainbow sprinkles. When we get to Baskin Robbins both boys run over to the cones and start pointing at them.
"What kind of ice cream do you want?" I ask.
"I want rainbow sprinkles" says Mateo
"I want rainbow sprinkles too!" chimes in Nico.
"Ok, yeah, I know. But what kind of ice cream? Vanilla? Chocolate?"
Mateo lets out a sigh and and gives me an exasperated look. "Mommy. Rain. Bow. Sprinkles. Ok?"
The cashier looks even more exasperated then Mateo as she snaps her gum loudly. Ok. I get it. Just order. So I get 2 rainbow sprinkle cones with vanilla ice cream, figuring I can't go wrong with vanilla. I get my favorite peanut butter sundae for myself because that's the reason I agreed to come here in the first place. My only motivation for leaving my house.
As soon as Nico is handed his cone, he expertly scrapes all the sprinkles off the cone with his teeth in less than a minute. He then hands the cone to me and declares that he's all done. No wonder he still weighs less than 30 lbs. I put the cone in a plastic dish and start to eat my sundae. Mateo does a better job on his cone, but is equally fascinated by my sundae which he insists he needs several bites of. Oh well, less calories for me, guess it's a good thing. Nico, meanwhile, has found a frozen ice cream cake with a dinosaur on it and is quite insistent that we need to buy it. "Maybe for your birthday." I say. Then, " Hey, look a bus!" I say pointing out the window trying to distract him.
Surprisingly it works and Nico comes to the window and starts a running commentray on every vehicle that passes by. Only problem is he wants me to pay attention and acknowledge everything he says. "I see a truck mommy. A truck! A TRUCK!"
"Oh, yeah, a truck. Nice." I say.
"I see a blue car. A BLUE CAR!" And so it continues.
"Hey, Nico. Do you want this ice cream?" I ask
"No."
"Are you sure?"
" No, no, no ice cream." he says in a calm certain tone
"Ok it's going in the garbage. Let's go." I reply.
Nico remains unresponsive, so I figure he's ok with this and I toss his almost untouched ice cream into the trash can. Is he really related to me? How can you just throw out ice cream? It isn't until we are in the car that it dawns on him what has actually happened.
"My ice cream? My ice cream?" he asks as I'm buckling him into his car seat.
"Nico, remember we threw it out. You said you were done."
"Noooooo!!!!! ICE CREAM! Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!"
"Do you want some of mommy's ice cream?" I ask feebly offering him the rest of my sundae.
"Noooooooo!!!!" he screeches giving me the most pissed off look. Mateo, however, knows an opportunity when he sees it and jumps on it.
"Ooo, yes mommy! I want that ice cream. Please." And there goes my treat. I hand it to Mateo, telling myself I didn't need the calories anyway. Miraculously, Nico stops crying about halfway home and a calm settles over us. I pull into our garage and start to take Nico out of his car seat. He turns his head and looks at me and says, "Mommy, Kung Fu Panda?"
The first stop of the night was Blockbuster. All the kids movies that are not new releases are $1. So the deal is that each of the boys gets to pick 2 movies from this section. Like a moth to a flame, Nico immediately finds 2 copies of Kung Fu Panda and hugs them tightly to his chest. "Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! KUNG FU PANDA!!"
Now, here's a little background for you. We OWN Kung Fu Panda. In fact, Nico has already seen it several times today. Well, not exactly. He hasn't seen the whole movie several times today. Just his favorite scenes. He knows how to work the DVD player to find all the fighting scenes which he reinacts with Mateo, jumping from couch to couch, screaming and kicking and punching. He always take the role of the bad guy who he calls "black tiger". His favorite toy is a black tiger action figure that came in his Happy Meal months ago. Not knowing the location of this toy at all times is enough to bring on a full hysterical crying melt down. So, it's not very surprising that this is his choice.
"Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! Mommy, Kung Fu Panda! KUNG FU PANDA!!" He's voice is starting to go up an octave as he frantically waves the movies in front of me. "Yeah," I say calmly, "You're right. That is Kung Fu Panda. We have that at home. Go pick something else."
"Ahhhhh!!!!! Nooooo!!!!! I want Kung Fu Panda, I want Kung Fu Panda, I want Kung Fu Panda..."
I know there's some correct response on my part, but I just want to leave, so I say, "Ok, let's get Kung Fu Panda! Give the movies to mommy. I have to pay for them." Nico seems satified and hands over the 2 copies of Kung Fu Panda. Mateo, who thankfully gets the idea that he is suppose to pick two different movies that we DON"T own, gives me his two picks. I whisper to the cashier to please return the 2 copies of Kung Fu Panda to the shelf after we leave and discreetly hide the other 2 in our bag after paying.
I distract Nico by talking about our next stop. Ice Cream. Mateo knows exactly what he wants, which of course, is what Nico wants too. The cone with rainbow sprinkles. When we get to Baskin Robbins both boys run over to the cones and start pointing at them.
"What kind of ice cream do you want?" I ask.
"I want rainbow sprinkles" says Mateo
"I want rainbow sprinkles too!" chimes in Nico.
"Ok, yeah, I know. But what kind of ice cream? Vanilla? Chocolate?"
Mateo lets out a sigh and and gives me an exasperated look. "Mommy. Rain. Bow. Sprinkles. Ok?"
The cashier looks even more exasperated then Mateo as she snaps her gum loudly. Ok. I get it. Just order. So I get 2 rainbow sprinkle cones with vanilla ice cream, figuring I can't go wrong with vanilla. I get my favorite peanut butter sundae for myself because that's the reason I agreed to come here in the first place. My only motivation for leaving my house.
As soon as Nico is handed his cone, he expertly scrapes all the sprinkles off the cone with his teeth in less than a minute. He then hands the cone to me and declares that he's all done. No wonder he still weighs less than 30 lbs. I put the cone in a plastic dish and start to eat my sundae. Mateo does a better job on his cone, but is equally fascinated by my sundae which he insists he needs several bites of. Oh well, less calories for me, guess it's a good thing. Nico, meanwhile, has found a frozen ice cream cake with a dinosaur on it and is quite insistent that we need to buy it. "Maybe for your birthday." I say. Then, " Hey, look a bus!" I say pointing out the window trying to distract him.
Surprisingly it works and Nico comes to the window and starts a running commentray on every vehicle that passes by. Only problem is he wants me to pay attention and acknowledge everything he says. "I see a truck mommy. A truck! A TRUCK!"
"Oh, yeah, a truck. Nice." I say.
"I see a blue car. A BLUE CAR!" And so it continues.
"Hey, Nico. Do you want this ice cream?" I ask
"No."
"Are you sure?"
" No, no, no ice cream." he says in a calm certain tone
"Ok it's going in the garbage. Let's go." I reply.
Nico remains unresponsive, so I figure he's ok with this and I toss his almost untouched ice cream into the trash can. Is he really related to me? How can you just throw out ice cream? It isn't until we are in the car that it dawns on him what has actually happened.
"My ice cream? My ice cream?" he asks as I'm buckling him into his car seat.
"Nico, remember we threw it out. You said you were done."
"Noooooo!!!!! ICE CREAM! Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!"
"Do you want some of mommy's ice cream?" I ask feebly offering him the rest of my sundae.
"Noooooooo!!!!" he screeches giving me the most pissed off look. Mateo, however, knows an opportunity when he sees it and jumps on it.
"Ooo, yes mommy! I want that ice cream. Please." And there goes my treat. I hand it to Mateo, telling myself I didn't need the calories anyway. Miraculously, Nico stops crying about halfway home and a calm settles over us. I pull into our garage and start to take Nico out of his car seat. He turns his head and looks at me and says, "Mommy, Kung Fu Panda?"
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The Benefits of Being Delusional
Anyone who has small children can tell you that they are very hard to reason with. Saying they are out of touch with reality is an understatement. I've come to find that my kids are down right delusional in their thinking. Even though this is really inconvenient the majority of the time, it can work in your favor.
For instance, delusional thinking can be a real ego booster. When I first got our mini-van, which incidentally coinsided with the year I turned thirty, I felt a pang sadness for both the loss of my twenties and my cool car. But when Mateo first laid eyes on the 2005 used Caravan he exclaimed, "Wow! This car is really, really BIG and really, really FAST. Mommy drives a blue race car now!" Or the other day, at WalMart, when Nico pointed to a copy of people magazine featuring Sandra Bullock on the cover and said, "Hey look! It's mommy!" One day they will be teenagers who are well aware that I do NOT look like Sandra Bullock or drive a cool car, but hey, for now let's not shatter this myth.
Delusional thinking can also be quite economical as well. While deciding on vacation spots for the family this summer, Max, who has minimal interest in these things, just said, "Why don't you just take them to Chuck E. Cheese and tell them it's Legoland. They won't know the difference." Sounds sad, but you know what? He's right. They think going to Target is better than a Disney Cruise. Getting to buy a $0.25 ring pop is just as exciting as a $100 toy, and holds their interest for about as long. Again, I'm sure this won't be the case forever, so I'm taking advantage of it while I can.
Reflecting on it, being a delusional thinker is really not all bad. I mean, even I have my recurring delusional thoughts, like thinking one day I'll be out of debt, weight 130lbs, and wear stylish clothes free of ketchup stains. And what's wrong with that if it makes me happy and doesn't hurt anyone. Here's to delusional thinking, may we all embrace it.
For instance, delusional thinking can be a real ego booster. When I first got our mini-van, which incidentally coinsided with the year I turned thirty, I felt a pang sadness for both the loss of my twenties and my cool car. But when Mateo first laid eyes on the 2005 used Caravan he exclaimed, "Wow! This car is really, really BIG and really, really FAST. Mommy drives a blue race car now!" Or the other day, at WalMart, when Nico pointed to a copy of people magazine featuring Sandra Bullock on the cover and said, "Hey look! It's mommy!" One day they will be teenagers who are well aware that I do NOT look like Sandra Bullock or drive a cool car, but hey, for now let's not shatter this myth.
Delusional thinking can also be quite economical as well. While deciding on vacation spots for the family this summer, Max, who has minimal interest in these things, just said, "Why don't you just take them to Chuck E. Cheese and tell them it's Legoland. They won't know the difference." Sounds sad, but you know what? He's right. They think going to Target is better than a Disney Cruise. Getting to buy a $0.25 ring pop is just as exciting as a $100 toy, and holds their interest for about as long. Again, I'm sure this won't be the case forever, so I'm taking advantage of it while I can.
Reflecting on it, being a delusional thinker is really not all bad. I mean, even I have my recurring delusional thoughts, like thinking one day I'll be out of debt, weight 130lbs, and wear stylish clothes free of ketchup stains. And what's wrong with that if it makes me happy and doesn't hurt anyone. Here's to delusional thinking, may we all embrace it.
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