My Physical Condition Is Now Better Than the Dog's

I woke up at about 10:00am, a good 18 hours after I laid down to attempt to get rid of my migraine, and it was finally gone.

My friend called and wanted to go hiking, so I packed up daughter and dog and we went to our usual park. We did not take a usual trail and discovered that although our new route was absolutely beautiful, we will not take it again until spring or summer, when it has dried out, because it was a muddy slippery mess and we're both grateful that we didn't end up sitting in it at any point.

I hydrated better than yesterday and although I don't feel great, I'm certainly not in the state I was yesterday when I got home.

The dog, however, is so worn out she can't even bend over to get to her food or water bowl. I even put rice in her bowl and she looked at it, tried to bend down, gave up, turned to look at me pathetically, then walked away.

I ended up putting the bowl on my daughter's mini chair so the dog could eat.

Poor thing.

That would have been me, though, when I started this, had I just had the past two days of activity that we've had. So now that I'm in better shape than the dog, I'd better start dragging her out more too.

Punished for Good Behavior

If you've ever watched an extreme skiing/snowboarding film, you know that they go on and on about fresh, untouched "powder" as if it's the greatest thing on earth.

Obviously, they've never been in such conditions while in snowshoes, dragging a sled with a toddler, and coaxing a dog to follow.

We went up to the mountain today for some early-season snow time. My husband is eager to get in some back-country snowboarding and I'm considering entering a snowshoeing race at the same location in a couple of months. (The event announcement, put out by a group that normally does running events, guarantees that there will be no cars on the course.)

Intending to leave at 9:00am, we packed and loaded the car and set off at about 9:45. Not bad for a family on Moroccan time. I was actually feeling rather proud of myself because last year I'd left all my snow gear in one bag so that I could just grab it and run and not have to look all over for things.

I grabbed everything except for one seemingly minor but actually very critical thing.

Toilet paper.

The permanent outhouses at the snow park we go to are always out, which I forgot until we arrived and needed it. Fortunately, several months ago I had my husband pack extra baby wipes in his car "just in case" he would need them for something, so we weren't totally without creature comforts.

The important business taken care of, we geared up. Last year, I bought some snow pants that barely fit. It was depressing, because they were enormous pants (I still refer to them as my size "Extra Elephant" pants), I had to unzip the side pockets to provide room for my hips, and if I so much as exhaled (no exaggeration), the waist snaps popped open. All this and they are also about a foot too long for my legs. (I could go into a LONG tangent here about how hard it is to find activity-appropriate gear for large people and how the heck are they going to exercise to make change if there is no clothing to do so in comfortably.)

I was extremely pleased to discover that my size extra elephant pants could 1) have the pockets zipped this time, 2) snap and stay snapped, even when bending over or sneezing (I tested both), and 3) even have enough room for 2 layers underneath.

Another challenge last year was getting the snowshoes on and off. The first time I had my husband help because I'd never done it before and didn't know how they buckled. Every time after that, I had to have him help because I couldn't breathe when I bent over in my too-tight snowpants, because I actually needed snowpants in size two extra elephants.

I got my snowshoes on ALL BY MYSELF (I totally sound like my 3-year-old in my head when I say that) AND I was able to breathe while doing it.

Also my pants were still snapped when I stood up.

If that's not progress to celebrate, I don't know what is.

Off we set on the trail. It was a bit challenging since normally it is somewhat groomed, but I don't think they've had a chance to do any grooming yet this year. Even in snowshoes (and I wasn't wearing tiny ones), I was sinking as much as two feet at times. I took a few pictures, we saw a dad and his son that we saw a few times last year, and then my husband wanted to head off around the edge of a bowl on the side of the trail, so he took off with our daughter in the sled and the dog following him.

Already having enough trouble on the "trail" I decided I'd continue up and meet them at the top so I would at least have a little bit of packed trail to go on from the few that had been up earlier in the morning.

I looked over and eventually saw that the dog was really struggling. I called her and as she stopped it looked like she debated whether to run through the loose snow toward me or continue to try to follow my husband's trail. She opted for his trail.

She was completely stuck a few minutes later.

My husband, hands full with our daughter, kept on going, so I decided to play Canine Rescue Crew, which meant working through all the loose powder I'd been trying to avoid in the first place--and going uphill doing so. There were a few points where the angle was such that I was in snow up to my waist and had to back up and kick the snow ahead so I could step forward.

As I got close to our dog, I could hear that she was crying. Worried that she was injured (and how on earth would I carry an 85 pound dog back down out of this if she couldn't walk?) I hurried as best I could.

Thing is, even though I'm in way better shape than last year, with the conditions and my endurance still not fantastic, "hurried" meant move five steps, pant. Five steps, pant. And the dog whimpered some more. "I'm coming, girl!" Five steps, pant.

When I got there, it was clear she wasn't injured but had fallen into a hole where a small tree was bent over and she couldn't get her legs over the tree to get out. So I laid face down in the snow, reached into the hole and pulled up her back legs.

I got lots of slobbery kisses as a thank you.

I then trudged back over my own trail and she followed RIGHT behind me and then ran ahead as I rejoined the slightly-packed trail up the hill.

My husband and daughter took a slow sled run down the bowl (which was too loose of powder for even the sled to work in), I followed after them, attempting to pack a small trail with my snowshoes (then hiked around to get back up). I did another packing hike down the hill before they went down again and they were only slightly more successful at swooshing down the hill. At the end, I think more effort was put into scooting with feet than it would have been to just walk.

At the bottom of the bowl, my daughter announced, "I have to go PEE PEE!"

We were a good half hour from the parking lot, so I offered her the option of doing her pee pee like the doggie. She didn't like that idea, so my husband hooked the sled rope to my back belt loop (which resulted in my pants scooting down).

Amazingly, we made it--dry--all the way to the restroom. I was actually more pleased with this than I was when I realized the hill I'd hiked up TWICE I did without stopping, which I couldn't do last year.

Again, no Olympic feats from this individual, but when my scales are stagnant, I have to take my progress where I can find it so I'm still encouraged.

When we got back to the car, the dog was so exhausted I had to lift her in. My daughter wanted a bag of chips (which I promised her after she finished her sandwich). Five minutes down the road, she fell asleep, sandwich in hand.

Two hours later, as we bumped into our driveway, she burst awake and said, "I WANT MY CHIPS!"

I handed them over, went inside and laid down as another migraine had kicked in on the drive. It woke up six hours later but was still miserable.

I didn't think I'd pushed myself that hard--I got winded a few times, but really I could have done more. It's hard not to get frustrated that while I'm doing something that should be long-term good for me, I feel like I get penalized by my own body with these migraines.

So a good day in the snow, and probably time to get back to the naturopath again.

Not a Shopping Day for Us

Another early morning for me as I spent the night at my dad's place after Thanksgiving so I could drive my sister up to the airport. We left my dad's place at 3:45 in the morning, which means I was up even more obscenely early than yesterday.

I came home and slept for another four hours and got up at a nice lazy 10:00am.

My daughter and I got dressed and headed to my husband's food cart, where he was working. It's the first time I've had a chance to go, even though they've been open for a month now. Since I've seen the menu, I know what I would order, but decided instead to have him make something for me of his choice.

I got a beef merguez sandwich. It was really good--although definitely not what I would have ordered on my own. The wind was biting cold, so we left a little while later.

Except for getting some bow supplies, I did no shopping at all.

Which was okay for the wallet, but shopping would at least have been more physical activity than I got.

In different news, the neighbor handed down a bicycle attachment that is for a little one to ride on. It has handlebars and pedals (in addition to a seat), and clamps on to the seat post of an adult bike.

So now I've got an indoor trainer and an outdoor attachment, so there's no excuse not to be biking...

...unless, of course, I go back to the list of excuses I used to make for myself. I guess I'd better get to doing something.

Yay Me. I Can Keep Up With a Toddler. Woo.

This morning I got up obscenely early (for me, anyway), hauled my daughter out of bed and drove about 80 miles to get to a "Turkey Trot." It was a 5K run for teens and adults and a 1K "Gobbler Dash" for 12 and unders.

I dressed for the weather, which was cold. I had on some good socks (picked up as a giveaway last year, but they are fantastic) and some ancient hiking boots. The boots belonged to my aunt about 20 years ago and when she was done with them, gave them to me--and I've had them for probably about 15 years. I put them on because I didn't know what the weather would be like and knew I would be warm, even though I swear each boot weighs about 5 pounds. Anyway, had on warm pants and a couple of shirts, and layered my daughter similarly.

My sister was running the 5K--despite her urgings for me to run it and my goals, I declined as I know I'm not ready to run the full distance. I did, however, let her enter my daughter in the 1K so that the cousins could do it together.

My sister did quite well (probably only the 7th woman to cross the finish line), but they haven't posted results yet, so I'm not yet sure how well. Then it was time for the little ones. When the gun went off, my nephew took off like a shot--so fast that my sister couldn't keep up with the jogger stroller and she yelled at me to keep my nephew on the course if we caught up to him.

We never did.

I was very proud of my daughter, who ran the whole way. A 1K is just over a half mile (.6 miles), which I knew she could do, but wasn't sure she could do running.

She can.

Know what? So can I. I realized, as I was jogging the race with her, that it is the farthest distance I've run in possibly a decade, and while keeping up with a 3-year-old is nothing to brag about normally, for me, it was actually yet another step in the right direction.

Know what else?

I think I could have gone 1) faster and 2) longer.

Even with my ancient heavy-duty hand-me-down hiking boots.

I'm really trying not to dwell on the fact that keeping up with a toddler is not a huge athletic feat, but rather that it is a definite change in my abilities since I started this blog.

Because if I couldn't look at it positively, I'd get pretty depressed instead.

Woo. Yay me.

Now We're Getting Serious

Back before I started any of this, I enrolled my daughter in a preschool and swore I would walk her there daily, rain or shine. I figured it would be good for me and the dog and nice "bonding" time with my daughter, good for memories (at least for me) for years to come.

Then I tried actually walking it.

It isn't far--only about .6 miles from our house, but when I started this, .1 miles was enough to put me on the couch for the rest of the evening I was in so much pain.

I started this project, can move, .6 miles (and back) no big deal, even twice a day, yay. At least, for me.

I can walk to the school in about 10 minutes. My daughter, on the other hand, makes the trip in about 15, and that's with a lot of coaxing of the "I bet you can't beat me!" form.

After school, it was taking about an HOUR to get home. Since I was taking the dog and had to carry her tote bag and other things, I couldn't carry her, and she was often in tears at about halfway.

Some memories I was making.

I started putting her in the backpack carrier I use when hiking and that helped a lot since she would fall asleep in it. Until I hauled her out to try and transfer her to her room for a nap. It would fully wake her up and I'd have a grouchy toddler preventing me from getting anything done the rest of the day.

So I caved. And drove.

Today at least it was on the premise that I would be running errands in between dropping her off and picking her up except that I left my coupons and list at home and had to go back.

To make up for it, I decided to install the bike trainer I bought in the living room. I really liked the one I used at my sister's house because we just plopped the bike in and took off.

The one I got is a fancier model, meaning more complicated. I had to replace a part and then I have to go through this whole adjusting and tightening routine to get it into the trainer, and then more adjusting and tightening so that it doesn't "slip" when I use it.

I have it figured out now, but it took me so long to set it up that it was time for bed before I got to use it.

But my living room at least looks like I'm serious.

Perspectives

Since I'm really still in the middle of this journey--even though I completed my initial goal (of finishing a triathlon)--I'm still spending a lot of time thinking about how I got from the fitness level(s) I've been at to where I was and where I am.

Ironically, I was watching the episode of Ellen (de Generes) where she interviewed her wife Portia de Rossi about Portia's new book, Unbearable Lightness. I don't want to inaccurately summarize the show since it has now been a couple of weeks since watching it, or do any injustice to her book (which I have not yet read), but what struck me was an audience question to Portia about how to broach the subject of an eating disorder with someone who may be suffering from one.

Portia's answer was along the lines of saying that what would have resonated with her was if someone had told her she looked "sick" or "unhealthy." That when people referred to her as "too thin" she could still look in the mirror and see her flaws.

My prior description of this blog was intended as a joke, poking fun at myself: Hippopotamus to Healthy. And while I needed to lose a LOT of weight then, and still do (although I'm definitely at least on my way now), here's the thing.

I didn't, and still don't, perceive myself as "unhealthy."

Yes, I am aware of the health problems associated with obesity and being overweight. Heart problems, diabetes, joint issues, and blood pressure, to name just a few.

To me, unhealthy is SICK. As in I have a cough or a cold or the flu. Or a terminal disease.

I don't even classify injuries as "unhealthy" or "sick" but just a localized issue, even if dealing with it causes problems elsewhere in the body.

So if I don't see myself as unhealthy, it's really hard to make a change. The number of times my dad and sister told me how proud they were of me that I'm making a change for my health even sounded bizarre to me. In my head, I wasn't (and am not) "sick," so "getting healthy" isn't something I could/can do.

So while Portia's advice to tell an anorexic person they look "sick" because of their misperceptions about their body, I started wondering what would work, in a similar fashion, for someone who is overweight.

And I really don't know. I, like so many overweight people, get upset, offended, and hurt by people trying to "help" telling me--kindly or unkindly--that I need to lose weight, I need to do it for my health, I'm putting myself at risk, blah blah blah. Because I know all of those things. I avoid looking in mirrors because it's depressing, and I avoid buying clothes because it's depressing.

Ironically, the push of certain groups to make the media more accepting of "realistic" body types (as opposed to living mannequins) even makes me feel like my weight is more "normal." And while obesity is becoming so much more common that it may technically be normal in that it is a majority of the population, this doesn't mean it should be the norm.

Even with all the health reasons I was aware of, even with avoiding mirrors, hating seeing myself in photos (still do), losing weight as a stand-along goal was not (and still is not) enough for me.

Having gained and lost before, I know how "good" it feels to fit into clothes that look good on me and not hate seeing myself in a picture. I was still critical of myself even then though.

So I'm still fighting warped perspectives. Portia de Rossi was one end of the spectrum. I'm on the other. Navigating a way to that middle ground is such a difficult road.

Since my perspectives are still warped (I've got somewhere around 70 pounds left to lose), I still NEED goal-oriented motivation that is a competitive event. A goal of fitting into this one cute dress that's been on a hanger for the last 6 years isn't enough--and if that's my only goal, I will likely stop right now in this process.

So I have to keep signing up for events, getting ready for them, and DOING them. It's the only way I will truly get to healthy, and hopefully by time I get there, my perspective will be healthier too.

Determined or Delusional? A Little Bit of Both, I Think

So now I know.

Yes.

I can finish a triathlon.

So it took me almost 2.5 hours to finish. And I came in second to last in my division.

But I did it.

Here's the rundown (or, er, walkdown, as it was in my case).

Got up about 6:00 and started getting ready organizing things I couldn't do last night. Woke up my daughter, washed and dressed her, loaded up all my gear for the triathlon, and walked down to the transition area, where security was already in full force.

I didn't have my orange wristband on, so they didn't want to let me in. Prepared for this, but having forgotten which side it was supposed to be on, I pulled it out and asked. Turns out it didn't matter. It did, however, matter that I had my daughter with me. I asked if I could bring her in since obviously, I couldn't leave a 3-year-old alone on the sidewalk. Because she was so young, they did let her in, but when she saw me putting on my bracelet, she said, "Mom, I want a bracelet, too!"

Just as I was beginning to explain that I was sorry she couldn't have one, a security guy said, "I can get you one right over here." She was THRILLED.

This should have been my first hint that my big moment of today would end up being about her and not me.

On the way over to my section of the transition area, I came across another security volunteer, who eyed my daughter suspiciously. Seeing his look, I said, "They said she could come in to set up my transition area with me."

He said, "That's fine, but do you have someone to watch her during the race?"

Rather than going into a long explanation about Dad ending up staying in a different hotel, not having met up with them yet this morning, blah blah blah, I just replied, "Oh yes, of course. He just didn't want to get out of bed this early."

To which the guy laughed and let us pass.

I took my time setting up my transition area and when I was satisfied with the setup, I went and got bodymarked (this was new to me--it's when they write your number on you to identify you and for security). Again, my daughter wanted her OWN markings. They drew a smiley face on her arm.

Hint #2 that today might not end up being about me.

Finished with all the details I could take care of, I headed out for breakfast. I ran into my sister's family and my dad. My sister still hadn't set up her area, so Dad came with me and my daughter to eat breakfast.

Then it was a bunch of semi-nervous running around time, making sure everything was in place, eventually having my sister haul me into my rented wetsuit, testing it out in the water (SO thankful for the wetsuit because it was COLD, but tolerable with the suit). I swam for just a little ways to see if I could adjust to all my new things: noseplug, new swim cap (given to us and required for the event), wetsuit, and open water.

I felt okay.

Mine was the last "wave" to start the swim. Before our start gun went off, there were already people from the first wave into the bicycle portion of the event.

At least I didn't have any delusions about winning or anything.

When our start finally went off for the swim, I waded in and started swimming and realized what a newbie total dork I was.

I'd taken my goggles off my eyes and perched them on my forehead.

And left them there when I started swimming.

I stopped, stood up, put my STUPID goggles back over my eyes, and started again.

I didn't get far before I was getting tired, but swore to myself I would NOT hang on to a lifeguard apparatus. Unless I was going to otherwise drown, of course, but if I was tired, I was going to do a "rest" stroke.

I ended up doing a lot of breast stroke because it was actually a lot of work. I think I may have "fought" the buoyancy of the wetsuit some. Anyway, after the first marker in the water, I was tired enough that I flipped over to my back and kicked to rest.

The gentle rocking of the waves nearly made me hurl I got motion sick so quickly. Rolled back over to my stomach and started swimming again.

Swam over a couple of schools of fish.

Between boats.

Passed an orange cap! (Hey! They started 3 minutes before me! Yay me, I passed someone!)

Passed a white cap! 6 minutes before my start.

Passed a RED cap! 9 minutes before my start.

Okay, so they were REALLY slow swimmers, because I got 15th out of 22 on the swim for my division, but I passed someone.

Swim took me just under 20 minutes. Slow, but better than I'd expected.

When I got to the end of the swim, THANK GOODNESS for the railing or I wouldn't have been able to walk. I staggered to my transition space, trying to pull off my wetsuit (couldn't grab the zipper pull that had kept getting in the way over my shoulder during the swim). Got there, pulled on my shirt, ate a package of Sharkies (thank goodness for Sharkies), drank some water, and got on the bike.

Transition took me a little over 6 minutes.

My one goal on the bike was to keep pedaling. Keep pedaling. Weirdly, Dory from "Finding Nemo" started running through my head saying, "Keep on swimming, keep on swimming, keep on swimming swimming swimming." A little bit late on the actual event, but it was what I was doing with pedaling, and as I passed people walking their bikes, I decided I would NOT get off the bike to walk (again, except to prevent a crash).

The first loop of the bike there were a TON of people ZOOMING down the hill on the other side, some kindly saying "on your left" and others (not so kindly) shouting "LEFT! LEFT! GET OVER!" I will admit, even though I was going pretty slow (only 4 mph at a couple of points), I was awfully annoyed with the "friend" pairs who decided to ride side-by-side preventing people from passing.

And if I wanted to pass, trust me, they were obstructing the race.

The second loop of the bike there were only a few LEFT shouts and a lot more people yelling positive encouragement on the way down to those working on the way up. It was actually easier for me than the first loop--in part because I knew what to expect, and perhaps because the energy from the Sharkies was kicking in.

The third loop was pretty close to quiet. I knew if going downhill I was seeing people coming uphill, they'd really struggled somewhere along the way, so I began yelling encouragement at them.

The bike took me nearly an hour, just over 59 minutes. Heh.

Transition to the "run" (in quotes because I did not, I walked) went okay. I kinda sauntered along and even took a water bottle because I knew I'd need it. I also truly didn't know if the "comfort level" I was feeling was a temporary delusion or if I was really okay--I didn't want to push myself, drop and collapse when I was so close to meeting my goal of just finishing.

My sister met me on the hill that is referred to as "the wall" on my first loop. She and my nephew walked up the wall with me.

On my second loop, the whole course was quiet--and nearly disassembled in some parts, with cars, golf carts, and non-racing pedestrians sharing the streets. I tried jogging a bit, but found myself tripping over my feet. Walking was fine. Jogging wasn't so much tiring as I was seriously afraid I was going to faceplant as my coordinational skills were becoming challenged.

Just before I got to the wall on my second lap, I started crying.

I was suddenly overcome. I reflected on where I was, physically and mentally, back in May, and how even though I'd set out to do this, I hadn't even really believed that I could at all. I had no faith that I would have the drive, desire, or ability to do what I was very nearly done completing. The more I thought about it, the more I cried. I have come so far. Lately I'd been saying, "well, I've come a long ways, but I still have a ways to go." And the only thing in my head (besides I hope people don't see me crying) was how utterly proud of myself I was. How good I felt about myself in that moment, and how maybe I should set my sights even higher, because if I could do this, there are so many other things I could achieve if I just set out to DO it.

Then I saw the water station ahead and composed myself so I wouldn't look silly or have to explain as I chugged water. But I was still very proud of myself, because I KNEW I could finish now.

Nearly at the end, my dad put down my daughter and she ran for me. They'd prepped her well, so she knew she was supposed to be with me, but run for the finish line. I told her, "If you run, I'll keep up with you."

She's pretty fast for 3, and I'd done quite a bit, especially considering how far I've come since I started this, so that was actually a challenge for me.

I ran about the last 50 yards with her. As we were getting close, I heard the announcer call my race number and name, and then he said something like, "And this is what these events are all about! Look at this family support, her daughter pacing her into the finish line!" People started clapping and cheering. I was feeling so excited at the support of that crowd for one of the last people to cross the line as the announcer continued, "And 607 crosses the line with her coach, personal trainer, and moral support!" And the crowd cheered more.

I had so much fun finishing it wasn't until I was nearly back at my bike in the transition area that I realized the crowd wasn't cheering for me, but for the cute 3-year-old at my side.

Oh well. I did it.

The rest of the day was pretty relaxing--cleaned up and put away my race gear at the hotel, had lunch, drew on my race shirt, had my family sign it, relaxed in the hot tub at my sister's hotel, had a nice walk back and dinner with my daughter, and it wasn't until I laid down for bed I started feeling sore.

Uh oh.

No epsom salts or Amazing Dr. Amy to fix me here.

Hope I can move tomorrow.

But I DID IT.

No Turning Back. I'm Stuck On an Island.

This morning my daughter and I got up, ate, said a quick goodbye to our friends and took off from San Diego.

Before leaving, we had to stop at a state park to try and take pictures for my sister to help in her defense against a $475 ticket for walking her dog. Long story.

In the process, I got lost, couldn't reach my sister by phone, and then when I did, thought I was going to get a ticket myself for blowing through a stop sign. Fortunately there was no one there to catch me.

It ended up taking about an hour of our trip time back and then I opted to NOT take the $4.75 toll road again. We arrived at my sister's house just before noon.

It was a madhouse, everyone running around--and my sister wasn't even home as she was dropping her dog off at the kennel.

We loaded up two cars with 3 bikes, 3 kids, 4 adults, triathlon gear for 2, baby supplies, and then just the regular stuff that is required on a trip with that many people (clothing, snacks, etc.)

We got to the ferry terminal and I don't know how many times I heard my dad sigh though his teeth and say, "Boy, this has got to be the most disorganized mess I've ever seen at a ferry!" Actually, it was quite a bit of chaos and long lines and irritable people.

The ride there was nice and we were even surrounded by jumping dolphins for a little while, which seemed to excite everyone on board.

Finally on Catalina Island, we unloaded and then went our separate ways. From the map we were given on board, it appeared that my sister's hotel was up at the top of the hill and ours, while not at the top of the hill, was on the other side of the bay, and only halfway up the hill.

I ended up putting my daughter on the bike seat and she held on to my arm for dear life. I was also hauling two bags over my shoulder while my dad hauled a suitcase and bag.

I was so exhausted when we got to our hotel that I had NO IDEA how I was going to make it through three events tomorrow--until I realized I would have no toddler or luggage to bring with me. Still, it was actually kinda tough.

Our hotel room was on the very bottom level, which would seem like it would be convenient, until you realize that the entry level of the office is the top level of the building and we had to go down a narrow and steep 38 steps (with the aforementioned toddler, bike, and luggage) to get to our room. The hallway at the bottom of the steps was so narrow I had a hard time navigating the bike around the corner.

My dad was not pleased to find only a double bed in the room.

We sort of settled in and I decided to bike up the hill to my sister's hotel, which was where the check-in for the triathlon was.

Holy hills, Batman, if this ride is any indication of what the event will be like tomorrow, I'm in deep doo doo. I actually had to WALK the bike at one point. I wish I'd had more time to train on this bike on actual hills. 18mph on the flat is all fine and good, but sheesh, this was ridiculous.

First we had to listen to a debriefing on the route. When I met up with my sister, there was a line winding through a courtyard. I didn't see her until I'd been standing there a couple of minutes--she was a few people ahead of me. I asked the people between us if they would mind letting me hang out with my sister and they graciously let me cut in front of them.

We waited for about a half hour, finally saw people coming out of the briefing room, and then probably another 15-30 minutes later, the line actually moved. We ended up about 5 people back from the door and had to wait another round.

There were a couple of women behind us (that I'd cut in front of) that were talking about a book I'd read. We started talking about the author (Marian Keyes, you are FANTASTIC), and then eventually started talking about our kids and the triathlon and why we were all there. They were so nice and supportive and I felt very welcomed into the triathlon community, again.

The briefing was basically just a covering of the route, which any idiot can look up online or in our packets, BUT the city of Avalon requires it because apparently last year, since the route goes by the fire department, there was a little problem in that NO ONE WOULD STOP TO LET THE FIRE TRUCKS THROUGH. We were informed that in case of an emergency, the race would literally be STOPPED to let the emergency vehicles through.

In other words, we could have had MAYBE a half hour total wait for our packet pickup (probably less), but instead because of some jerks last year, we had to waste nearly two hours for our total packet pickup. Lovely.

Once the talk was done, we had to get in line to get our bib numbers. Then we got to leave the briefing room and go to a different room to go get our packets, event T-shirts, and peruse goodies for sale. There was some actual gear--little stuff like goggles and other small items, and then there were some snacks. I decided to try these gummy fruit snack things made by Power Bar. (They turned out not to be so great, and I decided I'd give them to Ijja and stick to the Sharkies I'd brought.)

After the briefing, I headed back to my hotel. Dad and my daughter and I set out to find dinner--and I wanted sushi. We wandered around several places and finally found one, but it was so overpriced, that I couldn't justify spending as much as it would cost on dinner for a toddler, let alone the adults. After wandering around a bit more, we ended up back there anyway.

Dad, THANK YOU for treating us to dinner.

Then he hiked up the hill (and got lost in the dark on the way) heading to my sister's hotel room since they had an extra bed.

I organized as much as I could before bed, and then crashed.

Tomorrow will be a big day.

I Am a Weenie, Fine.

My sister tried to get me to go swimming again today. The plan was we would swim straight out to a buoy (a fairly short distance), repeat several times, then be done.

That was the plan.

While the last two days I managed to get in the water rather slowly, I was at least able to get in, today I was having none of it.

My sister was not impressed. In fact, I think she was quite annoyed with me.

She, however, did great. She is terrified of sharks getting her and has a rather intense fear of just going out that far (even though she is a much stronger swimmer than me). She has NEVER gone out that far (without a surfboard) and made several loops out and back from the buoy.

She tried to convince me, begging me saying she'd even go without her wetsuit.

Here's the thing: I'm not afraid of the depth of the water or sharks or other things. What I know I need to work on in the water is breathing since I can't seem to exhale through my nose in the salt water. Since it was just too cold this morning to adapt to, I didn't think it would make it easier and I felt no need to freeze myself to figure this out.

I will try tomorrow once my wetsuit comes in and my sister is going to take me to the local YMCA so I can work on breathing out through my mouth in the pool. We'll see how that goes.

Tonight I also went to a "Triathlon 101" clinic--a free clinic put on by the Long Beach Triathlon club. There were two guys there--one of them who I would not describe as athletic (nor would I imagine he could do any portion of a triathlon, let alone all three events), but who basically started and has been doing triathlons for 18 months now for the same reason(s) as me: he needed to make a lifestyle change, lose weight, and needed some kind of goal to work towards to keep him motivated and focused.

He's lost 100 pounds in 18 months by working for and doing multiple triathlons similar to this.

They had some great information that was really helpful, a ton of hints, and a lot of encouragement. There was only one other person who attended the clinic--he's at a very different place than me (he actually hopes to be competitive) and had done one triathlon. He's hoping to do one called Lava Man in Hawaii.

It was really nice to see and hear that the triathlon community is very welcoming and open to newcomers. If it wasn't so expensive, I could easily get into doing this on a regular basis. But considering the entry fees are usually over $100 and that's not even looking into equipment that I don't currently own (I'm either borrowing, renting, or doing without for this one), I'm not sure it will be a long-term sport for me. Hopefully an event or two a year.

That's assuming I even make it through the swim this time around.

Better Than Yesterday, But That's Not Saying Much

Today's workout plan was to go swimming with my brother-in-law the same place we went yesterday. Then my sister really wanted me to practice the transition to the bike.

She's still not getting that for me, I'm not racing, so the few seconds I'm going to lose from not practicing a transition really aren't critical.

The swim went both better and worse than yesterday. I managed to actually swim a quarter of a mile, but I did have to stop a couple of times and cough/gag water out. Also, I only swam with my face in the water a few strokes since I still can't seem to figure out the breathing thing.

I learned that swimming with your face out of the water is not only far less efficient (and slower), but it is SO much more tiring. I've got to figure this out--I'm now more worried about that part than anything. I know I can finish, but I'm afraid it will take me so long that I will be disqualified at the end of the first event because I'll be so slow I'll miss the cutoff time.

After a quarter mile (which I swam going away from the car, down the beach), I walked back in about waist-deep water so at least I was still getting some kind of exercise.

My brother-in-law swam a half mile in less time than it took me to do my little antics in the water. Yes, he's in fantastic shape, but *sigh* so depressing that someone swims faster than I walk.

Anyhow, after the swim, we were going to drive up a ways and bike in a different place that has a few little hills (rather than just the flat area from yesterday).

We passed the place where the ferry leaves from and then decided that my brother-in-law and my sister would bike while I watched my niece. They were only gone for about 40 minutes, and I adore my niece, but it was excellent reinforcement that I only want one child because I just don't want to go through the baby phase again.

We came back and loaded my bike onto the trainer in the living room. Pizza was ordered for dinner and then we sat down to watch How To Train Your Dragon. Great movie, but it was too hard to hear over the bike on the trainer AND I was overheating rather rapidly. Plus trying to exercise on a full stomach was probably not too wise.

Not a great day of training.

Hopefully tomorrow will go better.