Several weeks ago, my doctor recommended a book to me. I was told I had to read it (kindly) because it would really make sense to me and was well-researched, well-written, and laid out in a manner that was understandable.
i finally ordered the book a couple of weeks back, but set it aside until last night, when once I started reading, I got through half of it before I turned off the light and went to sleep (well past 1:00am). I finished it today.
My doctor was right, but possibly more than she even knew (or maybe she recommended it specifically because she knew how much it would affect me). I hadn't ordered it right away for two reasons: 1) my still-present "denial" behaviors around my weight mean that if I order a "diet book" (which I wouldn't categorize this as, but it does kind of fall into that category), then I'm admitting that I need a diet and run the possible risk of (gasp!) someone seeing the book, which for me is more embarrassing than just someone seeing me at my current (lack of) fitness level. Also I didn't order it right away because 2) I forgot.
Hmm. I could go into a whole different digression on the term "fitness level" now after reading the book. Another day, perhaps.
Interestingly, this book promotes a dietary lifestyle that is recommended for diabetics by nutritionists and doctors. Many of the choices and needs that help diabetics also help the diabetics lose weight--often significantly so. Yet these dietary instructions go strongly against all other medical accepted practices for weight loss.
What struck me the most, when I was done reading, aside that I could stop trying to starve myself or try to do things in "moderation" (we all know how well I do with moderation anyway), and NOT feel hungry AND eat foods I enjoy, was relief. Relief from the self-inflicted guilt and shame about being overweight. Relief from the magnification and internalization of remarks made to me (whether kind or unkind, well-intentioned or just plain rude). Relief that, if this holds up and I can implement it, I'm not a failure, which is what has been reinforced every time I've tried to do anything about my weight.
The challenge is that, like I said, much of the information presented in the book goes against all medical advice regarding weight loss. Yet curiously, it is nearly exactly what is recommended for diabetics (in particular, Type II) to "treat" the disease and its corresponding symptoms. Essentially, it is low-carbohydrate.
For me, the irony is that while the guidelines described are used to treat diabetes (and, when used successfully and maintained, help the individual lose weight), the same advice is not recommended to prevent diabetes--only the losing weight part, which a different diet is advised. Only those individuals with high blood sugar over extended periods of time are recommended to follow this advice--and honestly, only part of it.
We'll have to see how it goes.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Trying to Break the Lethargy Trap
I can't believe how much I slept yesterday.
I'm not going to count the hours because I'm a little bit afraid that the "awake" hours would end up in the single digits--and I'm not kidding.
On the other hand, my daughter is coming down with a cold. Perhaps my body was both fighting off what she has (because I feel fine) and dealing with the muscle relaxer I took? I don't know, but today I woke up with my back feeling so much better and with at least a little energy, if not actual motivation.
I kept my daughter home from preschool so she wouldn't get the other kids sick. When she found out, this was her response:
*cough*
"I'b dot sick adybore, Mobby." Translation: I'm not sick anymore, Mommy.
*sneeze*sneeze*
She certainly had enough energy for the both of us anyway, and keeping her home meant I wouldn't get to any of the tasks I was hoping to achieve. Which I didn't.
I'm not going to count the hours because I'm a little bit afraid that the "awake" hours would end up in the single digits--and I'm not kidding.
On the other hand, my daughter is coming down with a cold. Perhaps my body was both fighting off what she has (because I feel fine) and dealing with the muscle relaxer I took? I don't know, but today I woke up with my back feeling so much better and with at least a little energy, if not actual motivation.
I kept my daughter home from preschool so she wouldn't get the other kids sick. When she found out, this was her response:
*cough*
"I'b dot sick adybore, Mobby." Translation: I'm not sick anymore, Mommy.
*sneeze*sneeze*
She certainly had enough energy for the both of us anyway, and keeping her home meant I wouldn't get to any of the tasks I was hoping to achieve. Which I didn't.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Hit by a Lethargy Wave
I've had some motivational challenges for awhile now. No, I'm not seeking support as well-intentioned "you can do it, hang in there!" speeches tend to annoy me and be more counter-productive. Yes, it is stupid that I react this way, and I am trying to figure out how not to, but at this point, the only thing good about it is that I recognize I react this way, even if I can't change it yet.
Anyway, today was almost the ultimate achievement in lack of motivation. I managed to get my daughter to swimming lessons, but got NOTHING else done. In fact, when we got home, I took a nap. After being up for a little while, I took another nap.
Since the lethargy wave was so overpowering, I went to bed early and went right to sleep.
What's worse is today my back hurt badly enough for the first time in ages that I took a muscle relaxer (leftover from my New Year's Eve flare-up).
In my defense, the lethargy wave may possibly have been partly induced by the effects of the muscle relaxer, but really, I did so little I almost might not have bothered getting out of bed today.
Anyway, today was almost the ultimate achievement in lack of motivation. I managed to get my daughter to swimming lessons, but got NOTHING else done. In fact, when we got home, I took a nap. After being up for a little while, I took another nap.
Since the lethargy wave was so overpowering, I went to bed early and went right to sleep.
What's worse is today my back hurt badly enough for the first time in ages that I took a muscle relaxer (leftover from my New Year's Eve flare-up).
In my defense, the lethargy wave may possibly have been partly induced by the effects of the muscle relaxer, but really, I did so little I almost might not have bothered getting out of bed today.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
I'm in Stealth Mode
Today I was assigned to judge a gymnastics meet out of town. I was also assigned to a carpool, so I left my car at the grocery store where I met the carpool and went on my merry way.
Shortly after arriving at the meet, my phone rang--it was one of the moms from my daughter's preschool, who announced that she KNEW I was at the grocery store and where was I hiding because she saw my car in the parking lot.
Amused, I explained that my car was there, but I was not. I was operating in stealth mode.
Because my life is not excited enough unless I can make up dumb jokes about it.
ANYWAY.
Today's meet was...different than many that I have judged. Usually I post on Facebook some of my favorite judging moments from meets. Silly things, like the kid who rocks her beam routine with a 9.7 and then faceplants while walking to her next event. Or the little teeny kids, who are more focused on playing connect-the-dots with chalk on their sparkly leotards than warming up for bars. That kind of thing.
I usually don't feel badly about posting because I keep it anonymous (not even listing which meet I was at as well as any names), but today I just couldn't. Many of the kids I judged really struggled today and I felt so badly for some of them that I didn't really get a "funny" moment. I couldn't even think of a constructive way to twist any of the stories to make them funny...they would just be made fun of. And that's just mean. So no stories.
Shortly after arriving at the meet, my phone rang--it was one of the moms from my daughter's preschool, who announced that she KNEW I was at the grocery store and where was I hiding because she saw my car in the parking lot.
Amused, I explained that my car was there, but I was not. I was operating in stealth mode.
Because my life is not excited enough unless I can make up dumb jokes about it.
ANYWAY.
Today's meet was...different than many that I have judged. Usually I post on Facebook some of my favorite judging moments from meets. Silly things, like the kid who rocks her beam routine with a 9.7 and then faceplants while walking to her next event. Or the little teeny kids, who are more focused on playing connect-the-dots with chalk on their sparkly leotards than warming up for bars. That kind of thing.
I usually don't feel badly about posting because I keep it anonymous (not even listing which meet I was at as well as any names), but today I just couldn't. Many of the kids I judged really struggled today and I felt so badly for some of them that I didn't really get a "funny" moment. I couldn't even think of a constructive way to twist any of the stories to make them funny...they would just be made fun of. And that's just mean. So no stories.
Friday, April 8, 2011
I Had Forgotten
...what it was like to be home alone without a child. This is such a rare occurrence for me.
Monday was my daughter's first day at an all-day school/daycare. She goes two days a week (Monday and Friday) to this new school, in addition to her regular preschool.
So today, I managed to get the following things done:
1) drop off used printer cartridges for recycling
2) purchase office supplies
3) clean items to donate to the Salvation Army
4) drop off said items
5) make a deposit at the bank
6) have lunch on my own terms, without having to worry about anyone else
7) BUY MY NEW BIKE!! (more on this later)
8) spend 2.5 hours thoroughly cleaning the inside of my car (more on this later too)
9) revise a massage policy for the state of Oregon
10) four loads of laundry
11) walk the dog
12) make a (small) dent in cleaning the garage
13) give used toys to the neighbor girl
14) return a storage bin to friends
15) buy petfood (and a replacement toy for my dog)
16) have the first "date night" with my husband since August 2009
And all this was after sleeping in until 9:30.
Now, about the bike.
I'd put the bike on layaway last Sunday. I had to make a 25% down payment to reserve the 10% off pricing. It was a 2010 bike, on clearance, so it was a good deal anyway. The 10% was even better, especially considering the store I went to has a "points" system for everything I buy that equals 10% back I can use on anything in the store.
I got an email earlier this week that indicated they were having a "double points weekend." In other words, I'd get 20% back on any purchase. A good time to make the payoff on the bike, so I did.
I totally worked the system.
Of course, since it is designed for racing events, it doesn't come with pedals, so I had to get a pedal set, and I'd returned the shoes I bought to race in, so I needed new shoes. And I wanted a computer for it. I walked away with all my new bike stuff and what will be close to $200 in store credit.
It actually took me about 90 minutes in the store, during which time my car was parked in the sun. Did I mention that today was the first beautiful sunny day since February? We loaded the bike in the car, I happily hopped in to drive home and...nearly hurled.
WHAT was that stench and where was it coming from?
I rolled down all four windows, and if I had an extendable neck, I totally would have hung my head out the window, dog-like, on my way home.
It smelled THAT badly.
Once home, I unloaded my bike into the house and decided it was time for a thorough cleaning of my car.
I go through phases with my car (much like everything else in my life), where I will be so meticulously neat that NO ONE MAY EAT IN THE CAR. Then gradually things pile up, I'm in a hurry and visit a drive-through, I'm too tired to empty the whole car, and eventually I have to drive someone somewhere and realize that I have no place for them to sit.
I was at the no place to sit point, so it was possible that the odorous fumes were coming from something that my daughter had tossed into the back seat somewhere.
I began by simply emptying everything into the driveway in piles. I had a laundry pile, a sort it out in the house pile, a recycle pile, a garbage pile, a put it back in the car when I'm done pile, a donate pile, and a deliver to somewhere else pile. None of these were particularly small piles.
I pulled out the car seat, the floor mats, the spare tire cover, and anything else I could detach from inside the car. Then I thoroughly vacuumed all the carpet and upholstery and lysoled (new verb) everything else.
Despite having sniff-tested everything I pulled out of the car to see if it was the offending item, I didn't find anything that could be a possible source. I didn't even find any food garbage-gone-science-experiment that I could blame it on. While I was relieved I didn't find anything like that, I was also confused. I'd SCOURED the car and it was still potent. Not AS potent, but I couldn't tell if that was just because I had all four doors, the hatchback, and the sunroof open.
I'm sure the neighbors (once again) thought I was nuts because I kept moving around, sniffing different spots in my car trying to locate the source of the stink.
I got through all the laundry, thoroughly cleaned the car seat, and closed the car back up. After all, it's been two months since we saw sun, so leaving the sunroof open would not be the wisest move on my part.
When my husband got home, our daughter was asleep, so we got the neighbor girl to come over and babysit so we could go on a "date."
Here's how unused to having time to ourselves we are: our "date" consisted of going out to frozen yogurt, eating it there, and then walking to Target (I wanted Febreeze for my car). Once in Target, he tells me, "I'm going to the men's section," and takes off. It wasn't until I was wandering around household goods looking for the Febreeze that I realized we were paying a babysitter for a date night during which we were walking around Target, separately.
At least we had yogurt together. And I have my Febreeze.
Monday was my daughter's first day at an all-day school/daycare. She goes two days a week (Monday and Friday) to this new school, in addition to her regular preschool.
So today, I managed to get the following things done:
1) drop off used printer cartridges for recycling
2) purchase office supplies
3) clean items to donate to the Salvation Army
4) drop off said items
5) make a deposit at the bank
6) have lunch on my own terms, without having to worry about anyone else
7) BUY MY NEW BIKE!! (more on this later)
8) spend 2.5 hours thoroughly cleaning the inside of my car (more on this later too)
9) revise a massage policy for the state of Oregon
10) four loads of laundry
11) walk the dog
12) make a (small) dent in cleaning the garage
13) give used toys to the neighbor girl
14) return a storage bin to friends
15) buy petfood (and a replacement toy for my dog)
16) have the first "date night" with my husband since August 2009
And all this was after sleeping in until 9:30.
Now, about the bike.
I'd put the bike on layaway last Sunday. I had to make a 25% down payment to reserve the 10% off pricing. It was a 2010 bike, on clearance, so it was a good deal anyway. The 10% was even better, especially considering the store I went to has a "points" system for everything I buy that equals 10% back I can use on anything in the store.
I got an email earlier this week that indicated they were having a "double points weekend." In other words, I'd get 20% back on any purchase. A good time to make the payoff on the bike, so I did.
I totally worked the system.
Of course, since it is designed for racing events, it doesn't come with pedals, so I had to get a pedal set, and I'd returned the shoes I bought to race in, so I needed new shoes. And I wanted a computer for it. I walked away with all my new bike stuff and what will be close to $200 in store credit.
It actually took me about 90 minutes in the store, during which time my car was parked in the sun. Did I mention that today was the first beautiful sunny day since February? We loaded the bike in the car, I happily hopped in to drive home and...nearly hurled.
WHAT was that stench and where was it coming from?
I rolled down all four windows, and if I had an extendable neck, I totally would have hung my head out the window, dog-like, on my way home.
It smelled THAT badly.
Once home, I unloaded my bike into the house and decided it was time for a thorough cleaning of my car.
I go through phases with my car (much like everything else in my life), where I will be so meticulously neat that NO ONE MAY EAT IN THE CAR. Then gradually things pile up, I'm in a hurry and visit a drive-through, I'm too tired to empty the whole car, and eventually I have to drive someone somewhere and realize that I have no place for them to sit.
I was at the no place to sit point, so it was possible that the odorous fumes were coming from something that my daughter had tossed into the back seat somewhere.
I began by simply emptying everything into the driveway in piles. I had a laundry pile, a sort it out in the house pile, a recycle pile, a garbage pile, a put it back in the car when I'm done pile, a donate pile, and a deliver to somewhere else pile. None of these were particularly small piles.
I pulled out the car seat, the floor mats, the spare tire cover, and anything else I could detach from inside the car. Then I thoroughly vacuumed all the carpet and upholstery and lysoled (new verb) everything else.
Despite having sniff-tested everything I pulled out of the car to see if it was the offending item, I didn't find anything that could be a possible source. I didn't even find any food garbage-gone-science-experiment that I could blame it on. While I was relieved I didn't find anything like that, I was also confused. I'd SCOURED the car and it was still potent. Not AS potent, but I couldn't tell if that was just because I had all four doors, the hatchback, and the sunroof open.
I'm sure the neighbors (once again) thought I was nuts because I kept moving around, sniffing different spots in my car trying to locate the source of the stink.
I got through all the laundry, thoroughly cleaned the car seat, and closed the car back up. After all, it's been two months since we saw sun, so leaving the sunroof open would not be the wisest move on my part.
When my husband got home, our daughter was asleep, so we got the neighbor girl to come over and babysit so we could go on a "date."
Here's how unused to having time to ourselves we are: our "date" consisted of going out to frozen yogurt, eating it there, and then walking to Target (I wanted Febreeze for my car). Once in Target, he tells me, "I'm going to the men's section," and takes off. It wasn't until I was wandering around household goods looking for the Febreeze that I realized we were paying a babysitter for a date night during which we were walking around Target, separately.
At least we had yogurt together. And I have my Febreeze.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Recovery and Accidental Manipulation
One of the things I did yesterday was BEG a fellow massage therapist friend to come give me a treatment today. Not only was she available, but she came to my house, which meant I was able to roll out of bed, get into my robe, answer the door, and get on the table.
When I'm rich, that is how I will start every day.
By time the massage was done, my husband and daughter had taken off to his soccer game. I decided I would go and look at bikes.
Because yesterday's bike fiasco was not fun, and if I'm going to keep doing this, I need equipment that works.
Okay, yes, yes, I need to keep any bike checked and working before starting on a course and even a new bike I could have similar issues with if I don't keep it maintained. However, the bike that I used (which I BEGGED my dad to let me use, and then let me keep using) was my mom's bike. They actually had it custom-built for her. It's a great bike, but it was designed for road touring (ie, carrying gear), and for someone 2 inches taller than me who also had longer limbs.
In other words, another example of good equipment, but not the right equipment for what I am doing. If you check out the post from my snowshoe event (January 23, 2011), you will notice that I learned that equipment that "will do" because "I have access to it" is not so bright--rental fees would even be wiser. Since I'd done one triathlon on my mom's bike, I figured I could do another.
True, but yesterday's ride was a reminder that if I can invest in more appropriate equipment, my training and competition will be better. And my body might not hurt as much (like my snowshoeing blisters).
Of course, I walked in on a day that was the last day of a 10% off everything in the store sale. I found an awesome saleslady (who also does triathlons and is sponsored) who was very helpful and suggested I "test ride" several bikes.
Don't think I've yet mentioned the level of OW that my hiney was experiencing. I really was on more of an informational visit--intentionally not transferring money so I couldn't spend anything. Test ride was NOT something I wanted to do because I did not, not, not want to sit on anything even remotely resembling a bicycle seat.
Since I still don't understand the word moderation, I signed the form to test ride anyway.
Bike 1: Gingerly eased myself into the saddle and...not nearly as uncomfortable as I'd expected. In fact, once I got into the right position, it didn't even hurt. I spent 5-10 minutes riding around, shifting, braking, adjusting my hand positions and decided this is MY bike.
Bike 2: Got on and the seat was WAY too high. Took it back in, had it adjusted, and when I got out, the saddle was okay, but I felt like I was reaching really far to get to the gear shift and brakes. It felt too big and awkward. It just felt wrong, so I did a much shorter ride--it wasn't right for me.
Bike 3: Actually the same as bike #1, but the 2009 model. Liked it pretty well, but the angle on my shoulders wasn't as comfortable. I was wondering if it was just because Bike 1 felt so good, or if it was getting hard to tell them apart.
I rode Bike 1 around one more time and the difference was just huge. I spent more time talking to the salesperson and finally ended up asking her to hold it for me.
The next step would be convincing my husband, so I called him and asked him to come and look at the bike with me. In the meanwhile, I also called my brother-in-law, who is pretty knowledgeable about bikes, and he looked it up online, found out what they were asking for it, and told me I'd be getting a really good bike at a really good price.
At home, I had a talk with my husband. My dad recently gave us a little bit of money; this has been an overall good thing, but it's been challenging for us too. We want to use it responsibly and our first thought was to make it our emergency savings fund, which hasn't been replenished since it was drained two years ago during my husband's last layoff. On the other hand, there have been some purchases we've postponed for a LONG time, waiting until we had some extra funds.
One of those is (for me) a lawnmower that I can start by myself. We've lived at our home for nearly 8 years and without fail, every summer, we get a notice from the city about our front yard. I would mow, but I can't start the dumb mower. My husband says he would start it FOR me, but the timeframe from "I have motivation to get the job done" and "Mower is running" is not a positive relationship.
So as we're talking about this bicycle that I want, the lawnmower discussion comes up, again.
Strangely, the lawn was mowed less than 15 minutes later.
I don't think manipulation is very nice, but there have been a couple of very slick moves on my part since my husband and I met. I'm adding "save money by not getting a new lawnmower and get out of mowing the lawn myself in one discussion" to that list.
We went to look at the bike afterwards and my husband approved of the bike. Then he looks at me and says, "Now what?"
"Well, I'd like your blessing, or at least approval, to get it."
Seeing the look on my husband's face, the salesman stepped in. "You could lock in the 10% discount if you do layaway. It does require 25% down today, but it's fully refundable within 90 days if you change your mind....I'll let you two talk about what you want to do."
We ended up doing the layaway.
Meanwhile, I returned the shoes I'd worn for the race and the saddle cushion I'd got. They gave me a FULL store credit, without receipts. Since I inherited my mom's overhonesty, I told the guy when he gave me the gift card, that I hadn't paid full price for the shoes, and there was $15 too much on the card.
His response? "Don't worry about it."
Still hearing my mom in my head, I said, "I'm TRYING to be honest!"
He said, "And THANK YOU for that. Have a great day and please shop here again."
When I got home, I put my mom's bike back on the trainer in the living room, and decided to sit on it again for comparison. My hiney hurt, obviously, but I thought I'd try the shifters again (after using nice new ones).
FAN(insertbadwordhere)TASTIC. The derailleur that was broken for all 12 miles of my triathlon?
Works fine.
I'm still hoping to bring that layaway bike home though. We'll see.
When I'm rich, that is how I will start every day.
By time the massage was done, my husband and daughter had taken off to his soccer game. I decided I would go and look at bikes.
Because yesterday's bike fiasco was not fun, and if I'm going to keep doing this, I need equipment that works.
Okay, yes, yes, I need to keep any bike checked and working before starting on a course and even a new bike I could have similar issues with if I don't keep it maintained. However, the bike that I used (which I BEGGED my dad to let me use, and then let me keep using) was my mom's bike. They actually had it custom-built for her. It's a great bike, but it was designed for road touring (ie, carrying gear), and for someone 2 inches taller than me who also had longer limbs.
In other words, another example of good equipment, but not the right equipment for what I am doing. If you check out the post from my snowshoe event (January 23, 2011), you will notice that I learned that equipment that "will do" because "I have access to it" is not so bright--rental fees would even be wiser. Since I'd done one triathlon on my mom's bike, I figured I could do another.
True, but yesterday's ride was a reminder that if I can invest in more appropriate equipment, my training and competition will be better. And my body might not hurt as much (like my snowshoeing blisters).
Of course, I walked in on a day that was the last day of a 10% off everything in the store sale. I found an awesome saleslady (who also does triathlons and is sponsored) who was very helpful and suggested I "test ride" several bikes.
Don't think I've yet mentioned the level of OW that my hiney was experiencing. I really was on more of an informational visit--intentionally not transferring money so I couldn't spend anything. Test ride was NOT something I wanted to do because I did not, not, not want to sit on anything even remotely resembling a bicycle seat.
Since I still don't understand the word moderation, I signed the form to test ride anyway.
Bike 1: Gingerly eased myself into the saddle and...not nearly as uncomfortable as I'd expected. In fact, once I got into the right position, it didn't even hurt. I spent 5-10 minutes riding around, shifting, braking, adjusting my hand positions and decided this is MY bike.
Bike 2: Got on and the seat was WAY too high. Took it back in, had it adjusted, and when I got out, the saddle was okay, but I felt like I was reaching really far to get to the gear shift and brakes. It felt too big and awkward. It just felt wrong, so I did a much shorter ride--it wasn't right for me.
Bike 3: Actually the same as bike #1, but the 2009 model. Liked it pretty well, but the angle on my shoulders wasn't as comfortable. I was wondering if it was just because Bike 1 felt so good, or if it was getting hard to tell them apart.
I rode Bike 1 around one more time and the difference was just huge. I spent more time talking to the salesperson and finally ended up asking her to hold it for me.
The next step would be convincing my husband, so I called him and asked him to come and look at the bike with me. In the meanwhile, I also called my brother-in-law, who is pretty knowledgeable about bikes, and he looked it up online, found out what they were asking for it, and told me I'd be getting a really good bike at a really good price.
At home, I had a talk with my husband. My dad recently gave us a little bit of money; this has been an overall good thing, but it's been challenging for us too. We want to use it responsibly and our first thought was to make it our emergency savings fund, which hasn't been replenished since it was drained two years ago during my husband's last layoff. On the other hand, there have been some purchases we've postponed for a LONG time, waiting until we had some extra funds.
One of those is (for me) a lawnmower that I can start by myself. We've lived at our home for nearly 8 years and without fail, every summer, we get a notice from the city about our front yard. I would mow, but I can't start the dumb mower. My husband says he would start it FOR me, but the timeframe from "I have motivation to get the job done" and "Mower is running" is not a positive relationship.
So as we're talking about this bicycle that I want, the lawnmower discussion comes up, again.
Strangely, the lawn was mowed less than 15 minutes later.
I don't think manipulation is very nice, but there have been a couple of very slick moves on my part since my husband and I met. I'm adding "save money by not getting a new lawnmower and get out of mowing the lawn myself in one discussion" to that list.
We went to look at the bike afterwards and my husband approved of the bike. Then he looks at me and says, "Now what?"
"Well, I'd like your blessing, or at least approval, to get it."
Seeing the look on my husband's face, the salesman stepped in. "You could lock in the 10% discount if you do layaway. It does require 25% down today, but it's fully refundable within 90 days if you change your mind....I'll let you two talk about what you want to do."
We ended up doing the layaway.
Meanwhile, I returned the shoes I'd worn for the race and the saddle cushion I'd got. They gave me a FULL store credit, without receipts. Since I inherited my mom's overhonesty, I told the guy when he gave me the gift card, that I hadn't paid full price for the shoes, and there was $15 too much on the card.
His response? "Don't worry about it."
Still hearing my mom in my head, I said, "I'm TRYING to be honest!"
He said, "And THANK YOU for that. Have a great day and please shop here again."
When I got home, I put my mom's bike back on the trainer in the living room, and decided to sit on it again for comparison. My hiney hurt, obviously, but I thought I'd try the shifters again (after using nice new ones).
FAN(insertbadwordhere)TASTIC. The derailleur that was broken for all 12 miles of my triathlon?
Works fine.
I'm still hoping to bring that layaway bike home though. We'll see.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
After the Event
I drifted off (which had been my intention) as I was leaning back in my car. When I woke myself up by snoring, I realized I had a headache starting up...in a bad way. I took one of my migraine pills (which I'd thankfully remembered to pack) and moved from my reclined driver's seat to the back of the car to nap more comfortably.
I woke up about 45 minutes later and decided to get ready for the gymnastics meet I was going to volunteer at. As I sat up, I realized that I'd forgotten to wash the dog blanket after taking the three Golden Retrievers to the dog park...and that's what I'd been sleeping on.
My black pants more closely resembled fur pants.
I got out of the car and vigorously brushed them off, grabbed my volunteering outfit, and headed inside.
Although I'd volunteered for the event about two months ago, somehow my name got off the list and I did not have a station. Unfortunately, this meant that I could not be on the competitive floor at all, which was kind of a bummer. However, I DID get to watch the whole meet, for free, from the stands...and I used the opportunity to practice judge, which was actually a lot of fun.
By this time, though, soreness was already kicking in. Stairs, which I had to use several times, were NOT my friend. I couldn't bend my knees while weight-bearing, so if there wasn't a railing, I was in serious danger of falling down. One of my friends that I was sitting with kindly gave me some Aleve. I can't for sure say that it worked; however, it may simply have prevented me from getting worse.
One of the "gadgets" I'd picked up yesterday was this fancy ice cup thing. I had put it in Dad's freezer last night per the instructions, pulled it out and packed it just before 6:00 am, and completely forgot to use it. I left the meet at about 7:30 pm, and the instructions said it would last for up to 12 hours, so I wasn't hopeful when I opened it.
If only I could get paid for this, but I would become a total spokesperson for Ice-Up. It's an ice cup with a cooler, and then when you need it, it works like an ice massage. You can do the same thing much cheaper, true, with styrofoam or paper cups (like I did when I was a kid), but you need the freezer there, you can't transport it, and the ice eventually falls out of the cup as it melts. Ice-Up stayed cold for over 16 hours (I used it later too), and because of the design of the cup, it doesn't fall out, plus the holder doesn't freeze your fingers off, or leave you with scraps of torn-off cup to pick up. It is way cool.
I thought about using it on the drive home, but couldn't figure out how to use it just while sitting parked, so sealed it back up and drove off. I even went and visited some friends of the family (and sat on their floor and iced while we talked) before going home.
There was still enough ice to give myself another treatment before I went to bed, then take an epsom salt bath, then one last ice treatment.
I hope I will be able to walk tomorrow.
I woke up about 45 minutes later and decided to get ready for the gymnastics meet I was going to volunteer at. As I sat up, I realized that I'd forgotten to wash the dog blanket after taking the three Golden Retrievers to the dog park...and that's what I'd been sleeping on.
My black pants more closely resembled fur pants.
I got out of the car and vigorously brushed them off, grabbed my volunteering outfit, and headed inside.
Although I'd volunteered for the event about two months ago, somehow my name got off the list and I did not have a station. Unfortunately, this meant that I could not be on the competitive floor at all, which was kind of a bummer. However, I DID get to watch the whole meet, for free, from the stands...and I used the opportunity to practice judge, which was actually a lot of fun.
By this time, though, soreness was already kicking in. Stairs, which I had to use several times, were NOT my friend. I couldn't bend my knees while weight-bearing, so if there wasn't a railing, I was in serious danger of falling down. One of my friends that I was sitting with kindly gave me some Aleve. I can't for sure say that it worked; however, it may simply have prevented me from getting worse.
One of the "gadgets" I'd picked up yesterday was this fancy ice cup thing. I had put it in Dad's freezer last night per the instructions, pulled it out and packed it just before 6:00 am, and completely forgot to use it. I left the meet at about 7:30 pm, and the instructions said it would last for up to 12 hours, so I wasn't hopeful when I opened it.
If only I could get paid for this, but I would become a total spokesperson for Ice-Up. It's an ice cup with a cooler, and then when you need it, it works like an ice massage. You can do the same thing much cheaper, true, with styrofoam or paper cups (like I did when I was a kid), but you need the freezer there, you can't transport it, and the ice eventually falls out of the cup as it melts. Ice-Up stayed cold for over 16 hours (I used it later too), and because of the design of the cup, it doesn't fall out, plus the holder doesn't freeze your fingers off, or leave you with scraps of torn-off cup to pick up. It is way cool.
I thought about using it on the drive home, but couldn't figure out how to use it just while sitting parked, so sealed it back up and drove off. I even went and visited some friends of the family (and sat on their floor and iced while we talked) before going home.
There was still enough ice to give myself another treatment before I went to bed, then take an epsom salt bath, then one last ice treatment.
I hope I will be able to walk tomorrow.
The Event (Triathlon #2)
We (my dad, my daughter, and I) unloaded the car and headed over to the registration area. My dad took my daughter off to the restroom while I got checked in and set up my transition station. let me tell you, this time I was PREPARED.
1) I got there early so was able to choose the exact space I wanted.
2) I brought a yoga mat to lie down on the ground and laid out all my things on it, ready-to-go.
3) I brought an empty storage bin and a gallon jug of water to rinse my feet in after the run outside from the swim to the transition area. (To avoid rocks/dirt/crud in my shoes which would rapidly become uncomfortable during the actual event.)
4) I pinned my number to the shirt I was going to put on for transition, which I bunched up and draped over the handlebars of my bike in a manner that would make it easy to pick up and pull on.
5) I grabbed my bike gloves, sunglasses, goggles, swim cap, and towel, and headed inside to the pool.
We got Dad and my daughter seated, I had my event briefing, and I started!
This event has an indoor swim, which is appreciated for the time of year and our climate. I did not so much appreciate sharing my lane with 3 other people, especially considering that despite having to enter swim times, we weren't in synch with each other. I know my pace really well and am very good at holding it through the swim--with just enough left to push the last length.
The other three blasted out of the start and passed me immediately. Since I wasn't in it to win, I didn't really care, but we were too close for me to do my flip turns (that I'd actually practiced quite a bit). I also learned that my swim pace is a bit slower, but my flip turns help me catch up speed, so losing out on those turns cost me some time.
Then getting stuck behind my lane mates when they got tired from their fast starts was also frustrating.
I was given the signal for last lap (I hadn't been counting; perhaps this was stupid of me) and I was really confused because the one person in the pool that I was SURE had lapped me got out right as I got to the wall behind her.
Not wanting to be disqualified in case I'd misunderstood, I swam an extra lap.
It turns out I swam a 550 instead of a 500. Oh well. Off to the transition.
Like I'd hoped, I was able to get my gloves and sunglasses on, my cap and goggles off, and mostly dried by transition. I slipped into my new bike shoes (which were laced with Yankz! which I LOVE), pulled on my shirt and helmet, and headed out for the bike portion.
It started out on a very slight incline, but enough that I (belatedly) remembered advice that I got from Long Beach Triathlon Club clinic that I went to: check the area just outside of transition for hill angle and adjust your bike gears accordingly PRIOR to setting up your transition station. Oops. Luckily, the bike was in the right gear.
And that is where my luck ran out.
I could NOT get the rear derailleur to move, at ALL. I hopped off the bike to look at it, but had no tools to adjust anything, so gave up and got back on the bike. It was stuck in more of a climbing mode, so I was okay for going up hills, but going downhill or even flat, I couldn't build up enough speed.
Incredibly frustrating. About half the course was downhill and I watched people ZOOM by me as I coasted, unable to pedal fast enough (and unwilling to try to make my legs move fast enough to make it worthwhile in the gear I was stuck in). A 12-mile bike ride on what was essentially a 3-speed bike. Whoopee.
And my feet started hurting in my shoes and my hiney was hurting on my saddle and I still had a run left and was really starting to wonder why I do this to myself.
As I got into the transition area, my dad was standing next to a lamppost, talking on his cell phone. When I got close, my daughter fell head-first into the lamppost and started crying. I wanted to go pick her up and comfort her, but was in the middle of a race, and dad was there...so I walked by, feeling like a horrible mom.
I had to loop around a barrier and come back up to my station--which was right across from my dad. My daughter was still crying, my dad had put his free finger in his ear and was talking into the phone, and I was trying to get ready for the run, which I did NOT feel like doing at that point.
He hung up, I yelled across about my bike problems, and he finally picked up my daughter as I walked off. I crossed the transition barrier and started running.
Okay, for purposes of clarity, when I use the term "run," I don't actually mean RUN, or even probably jog. What I actually mean is more like a not-walk. If you want an idea of my actual pace, which I'm pretty sure I kept up for the whole run, get on a treadmill and set it at about 3.8 MPH or a 16:10 minute mile pace.
I did NOT feel like running at all. The one thing I wanted to do in this race though, was to run the whole 5K. I decided I would just keep up my terribly slow run pace and do at least the first lap (approximately a mile) on a run, and then see how it went.
Now for the good part (in my head, anyway). I RAN the whole 5K. Since my training, like I mentioned yesterday, was not great up to this, the furthest I'd run prior (all connected anyway) was 2 miles. So I ran a whole mile more today--and farther than I've ever run in my life.
As I rounded the second to last corner, one of the race volunteers came up to me. I'm one of those people that with so much as minor exertion, my face turns deep red--and slightly over minor exertion turns it almost purple. Apparently my color (or perhaps my pathetically slow pace) worried the volunteer as she asked, with a VERY concerned look on her face, if I was okay. She looked like she was ready to turn around and call 9-1-1. I assured her I was fine, but she insisted on asking if I needed anything. I told her, "I'm doing fine! I'm almost done!"
Around the corner and the last little stretch before a turn into the finish, my daughter joined me. As she caught up to me on the course, she hollered, "Mommy, mommy, I'm going to BEAT you!"
My response? "Yes, honey, you probably are."
For some reason, the crowd around us found this hysterical.
Okay, yes, it was funny, but upon reflection...I guess I have to laugh or otherwise I'd be insulted. (And I have to remind myself that those standing around laughing were not doing the event.)
Somewhere inside me, I found this extra energy/ability to pick up the pace. It was not enough to catch my daughter (who kept on going, well PAST the finish line), but it was a real run, for the last 20 yards or so.
Results?
I placed dead last. Not just last in my division (by over 33 minutes), but last out of all the women who competed. There was one guy who placed further behind me. Now, if I hadn't swam the extra lap, I would have beat one more person. If I'd been able to take just 10 minutes off of the bike (if I'd been able to pedal the other half of the race), I would have beat five more people. So, that's the "ugh" of the results.
Comparing to Catalina?
I took just over 4 minutes off of my transition times.
I took over 6 minutes off of my run time.
If I calculated it out, I took 4 minutes off of my bike time--with a dysfunctional bike.
Which means I am 14 minutes into my goal of taking an hour off of my Catalina time, assuming I could apply it directly.
Once the race was over, my husband (who had arrived during the run) took my dad, my daughter, and my bike home. We got caught in a downpour and then hailstorm as we were waiting for the car. We loaded everything up, I headed back to my car, and after saying goodbye, went back to pick up the rest of my transition area.
By time I got there, all forms of precipitation had stopped, but my gear bag was sitting there, with a puddle of water on top of it.
I learned today that my gear bag is waterproof. Which meant my clean clothes were still dry inside. I went and showered, grabbed a snack of a piece of muffin, and headed back to my car.
Noticing that the parking lot was blockaded for reserved parking (officials only) for an event at the coliseum (that I was going to go to and why I wanted to park there in the first place), I decided NOT to leave and go get food. Instead, I leaned back in the driver's seat to rest.
1) I got there early so was able to choose the exact space I wanted.
2) I brought a yoga mat to lie down on the ground and laid out all my things on it, ready-to-go.
3) I brought an empty storage bin and a gallon jug of water to rinse my feet in after the run outside from the swim to the transition area. (To avoid rocks/dirt/crud in my shoes which would rapidly become uncomfortable during the actual event.)
4) I pinned my number to the shirt I was going to put on for transition, which I bunched up and draped over the handlebars of my bike in a manner that would make it easy to pick up and pull on.
5) I grabbed my bike gloves, sunglasses, goggles, swim cap, and towel, and headed inside to the pool.
We got Dad and my daughter seated, I had my event briefing, and I started!
This event has an indoor swim, which is appreciated for the time of year and our climate. I did not so much appreciate sharing my lane with 3 other people, especially considering that despite having to enter swim times, we weren't in synch with each other. I know my pace really well and am very good at holding it through the swim--with just enough left to push the last length.
The other three blasted out of the start and passed me immediately. Since I wasn't in it to win, I didn't really care, but we were too close for me to do my flip turns (that I'd actually practiced quite a bit). I also learned that my swim pace is a bit slower, but my flip turns help me catch up speed, so losing out on those turns cost me some time.
Then getting stuck behind my lane mates when they got tired from their fast starts was also frustrating.
I was given the signal for last lap (I hadn't been counting; perhaps this was stupid of me) and I was really confused because the one person in the pool that I was SURE had lapped me got out right as I got to the wall behind her.
Not wanting to be disqualified in case I'd misunderstood, I swam an extra lap.
It turns out I swam a 550 instead of a 500. Oh well. Off to the transition.
Like I'd hoped, I was able to get my gloves and sunglasses on, my cap and goggles off, and mostly dried by transition. I slipped into my new bike shoes (which were laced with Yankz! which I LOVE), pulled on my shirt and helmet, and headed out for the bike portion.
It started out on a very slight incline, but enough that I (belatedly) remembered advice that I got from Long Beach Triathlon Club clinic that I went to: check the area just outside of transition for hill angle and adjust your bike gears accordingly PRIOR to setting up your transition station. Oops. Luckily, the bike was in the right gear.
And that is where my luck ran out.
I could NOT get the rear derailleur to move, at ALL. I hopped off the bike to look at it, but had no tools to adjust anything, so gave up and got back on the bike. It was stuck in more of a climbing mode, so I was okay for going up hills, but going downhill or even flat, I couldn't build up enough speed.
Incredibly frustrating. About half the course was downhill and I watched people ZOOM by me as I coasted, unable to pedal fast enough (and unwilling to try to make my legs move fast enough to make it worthwhile in the gear I was stuck in). A 12-mile bike ride on what was essentially a 3-speed bike. Whoopee.
And my feet started hurting in my shoes and my hiney was hurting on my saddle and I still had a run left and was really starting to wonder why I do this to myself.
As I got into the transition area, my dad was standing next to a lamppost, talking on his cell phone. When I got close, my daughter fell head-first into the lamppost and started crying. I wanted to go pick her up and comfort her, but was in the middle of a race, and dad was there...so I walked by, feeling like a horrible mom.
I had to loop around a barrier and come back up to my station--which was right across from my dad. My daughter was still crying, my dad had put his free finger in his ear and was talking into the phone, and I was trying to get ready for the run, which I did NOT feel like doing at that point.
He hung up, I yelled across about my bike problems, and he finally picked up my daughter as I walked off. I crossed the transition barrier and started running.
Okay, for purposes of clarity, when I use the term "run," I don't actually mean RUN, or even probably jog. What I actually mean is more like a not-walk. If you want an idea of my actual pace, which I'm pretty sure I kept up for the whole run, get on a treadmill and set it at about 3.8 MPH or a 16:10 minute mile pace.
I did NOT feel like running at all. The one thing I wanted to do in this race though, was to run the whole 5K. I decided I would just keep up my terribly slow run pace and do at least the first lap (approximately a mile) on a run, and then see how it went.
Now for the good part (in my head, anyway). I RAN the whole 5K. Since my training, like I mentioned yesterday, was not great up to this, the furthest I'd run prior (all connected anyway) was 2 miles. So I ran a whole mile more today--and farther than I've ever run in my life.
As I rounded the second to last corner, one of the race volunteers came up to me. I'm one of those people that with so much as minor exertion, my face turns deep red--and slightly over minor exertion turns it almost purple. Apparently my color (or perhaps my pathetically slow pace) worried the volunteer as she asked, with a VERY concerned look on her face, if I was okay. She looked like she was ready to turn around and call 9-1-1. I assured her I was fine, but she insisted on asking if I needed anything. I told her, "I'm doing fine! I'm almost done!"
Around the corner and the last little stretch before a turn into the finish, my daughter joined me. As she caught up to me on the course, she hollered, "Mommy, mommy, I'm going to BEAT you!"
My response? "Yes, honey, you probably are."
For some reason, the crowd around us found this hysterical.
Okay, yes, it was funny, but upon reflection...I guess I have to laugh or otherwise I'd be insulted. (And I have to remind myself that those standing around laughing were not doing the event.)
Somewhere inside me, I found this extra energy/ability to pick up the pace. It was not enough to catch my daughter (who kept on going, well PAST the finish line), but it was a real run, for the last 20 yards or so.
Results?
I placed dead last. Not just last in my division (by over 33 minutes), but last out of all the women who competed. There was one guy who placed further behind me. Now, if I hadn't swam the extra lap, I would have beat one more person. If I'd been able to take just 10 minutes off of the bike (if I'd been able to pedal the other half of the race), I would have beat five more people. So, that's the "ugh" of the results.
Comparing to Catalina?
I took just over 4 minutes off of my transition times.
I took over 6 minutes off of my run time.
If I calculated it out, I took 4 minutes off of my bike time--with a dysfunctional bike.
Which means I am 14 minutes into my goal of taking an hour off of my Catalina time, assuming I could apply it directly.
Once the race was over, my husband (who had arrived during the run) took my dad, my daughter, and my bike home. We got caught in a downpour and then hailstorm as we were waiting for the car. We loaded everything up, I headed back to my car, and after saying goodbye, went back to pick up the rest of my transition area.
By time I got there, all forms of precipitation had stopped, but my gear bag was sitting there, with a puddle of water on top of it.
I learned today that my gear bag is waterproof. Which meant my clean clothes were still dry inside. I went and showered, grabbed a snack of a piece of muffin, and headed back to my car.
Noticing that the parking lot was blockaded for reserved parking (officials only) for an event at the coliseum (that I was going to go to and why I wanted to park there in the first place), I decided NOT to leave and go get food. Instead, I leaned back in the driver's seat to rest.
The Drive There or My Dad and His GPS
Hoping for a good night's sleep was apparently too much to ask. My daughter woke up at 3:30 in the morning to go to the bathroom and I never fell asleep again. Alarm went off at 5:00.
Dad made us breakfast while I showered and got dressed and then woke up my little one (who of course had fallen right back to sleep after the middle of the night bathroom visit).
I got everything repacked, into the car, and just as Dad was about to get into the car, he asked, "Do you think I should bring the GPS?"
Me, internal voice: Oh, please no, not the GPS.
Me, out loud voice: I don't think we need it, but I know that if I tell you NOT to bring it, you'll spend the whole drive talking about how you wish you'd brought your GPS, so go ahead and get it.
Dad had the grace to laugh. But he got the GPS anyway.
Apparently it doesn't matter if we have the GPS or not; the conversation of the entire drive with the GPS is about the GPS. I don't think I ever posted much about the drive that he and I took to California for my last event, but he also insisted on the GPS for that trip, which is nearly 1000 miles on I-5. I got a little tired of the "continue 127 miles on I-5 south, then keep left to stay on I-5 south" and finally demanded that at least while I was driving, it be shut OFF. Especially since we both knew the way to my sister's house by heart.
But he loves his toy, and he put up with me when I was a teenager, so I suppose this is some kind of mild karmic revenge (very mild, considering what a brat I was at times).
In any case, today's trip was not much different.
Here is a rundown of our conversation/locations:
(Bottom of his driveway)
Dad: Do you have the address?
Me: No, but I know where we're going.
Dad: I need an address to put in my GPS.
Me: Actually, I tried to find one online and had problems getting a specific address.
(1 mile away)
Dad: Maybe I could enter the name of the coliseum.
Me: (pretending to focus on road)
Dad: Do you spell coliseum with one "L" or two?
Me: one, but now that you said it, I'm questioning it and I don't know any more.
(2 miles away)
Dad: Well, it can't find it with 1. It must be 2 "Ls." (pause with beeps of button pushing on the GPS) DOGGONE it, now I've got to start all over.
(3 miles away)
Dad: Turn left here.
Me: Are you sure? We've always gone right here before.
Dad: Yes, this is shorter.
Me: Okay, but you're going to have to tell me where to turn.
Dad: Don't worry, the GPS will tell us.
Me: Oh, so you got it entered?
Dad: No, but it will figure it out.
(5ish miles away)
Dad: Huh, it can't find it with two Ls either. I'm not sure what to look for.
Me: Try the stadium instead.
Dad: How do you spell the name of the stadium?
Me: H-E-R-E-N*.
Dad: Are you sure there isn't an "I" in there?
Me: Yes, I'm sure.
Dad: I really think there's an I in there.
Me: I hope you know this road, because I'm going to be really annoyed if I miss my race because you can't find directions on your GPS to a place that I knew how to get to if I went my own way.
Dad (clearly not listening to me): Maybe if I just type in the name of the city...
*This and other location-specific names have been changed. You know, in case someone I don't already know in real life reads this blog.
(10ish miles away)
Dad: OKAY! We've got it now.
GPS: In point one miles, turn right onto Dallas Road.
Dad: Up here, you need to turn right onto Dallas Road.
Me: We're already ON Dallas Road.
Dad: Oh. Hmm. That's weird.
(as I pass an intersection)
GPS: Immediately turn left to stay on Dallas Road.
Dad: Okay, I think the GPS has it now.
Me: I know it's dark, but if I hadn't turned left, I would have gone into a field. So far, not thinking this GPS is being very helpful.
(15ish miles away, and at least 10 additional instructions from the GPS to turn left/right to stay on Dallas Road where my only other option was to turn into a field or barn)
Me: This road may be shorter in mileage, but I think I prefer the other route because it is straight and you can go 55-60 the whole way. Slowing down to 15-20 miles per hour for a corner every quarter mile is not faster.
(20ish miles away)
GPS: Turn left to stay on Dallas Road and then turn left onto Highway 100.
Me: Okay, the road turns right, so I'm ignoring the GPS. I don't see any place to turn left.
Dad: That's okay, Highway 100 is right there.
Me: Good. At least I can find where we're going from here.
(Entering the north end of town)
Dad: Okay, now let's see if I can find the university.
Me: I thought you found it in the GPS.
Dad: No, I had to just enter the city. Hmmm...oh, it found the university bookstore, I'll enter that!
Me: The triathlon is not starting at the bookstore.
Dad: Well, but it could get us close to where you need to be.
Me: I already know where I'm going to park and how to get there, so you don't need to worry about the GPS any more.
Dad: I've got the bookstore entered!
(about a quarter mile into town)
GPS: At the next signal, turn left on Main street. Then turn left on Highway 100 North.
Me: That's not helpful.
Dad: Huh, I thought the bookstore was on campus. I wonder if they moved it.
(passing Main street without turning)
GPS: Recalculating. At the next signal, turn left on Center street. Then turn left on Highway 100 North.
Me: Again, not so helpful.
Dad: I wonder why it's doing that. Let me see if I can fix it.
(passing Center street without turning)
GPS: Recalculating. At the next signal, turn left on Washington. Then turn left on Highway 100 North.
Dad: I think I'm going to shut this off.
Me: That's the best thing I've heard since we left your house.
I managed to go directly to the place I wanted to park, got some helpful parking instructions from my dad (You'll get towed here!) (No, I won't, it's only regulated on weekdays, look, it's written on the sign!) and only had to walk half a block to get to the registration tent.
I am my own GPS.
And Dad? If you read this, thank you very much for letting me stay at your house, for getting up at 5:00am to support me, the perfect breakfast, and watching my daughter for the whole race. I couldn't have made it without you. But I'm buying headphones for your GPS.
Dad made us breakfast while I showered and got dressed and then woke up my little one (who of course had fallen right back to sleep after the middle of the night bathroom visit).
I got everything repacked, into the car, and just as Dad was about to get into the car, he asked, "Do you think I should bring the GPS?"
Me, internal voice: Oh, please no, not the GPS.
Me, out loud voice: I don't think we need it, but I know that if I tell you NOT to bring it, you'll spend the whole drive talking about how you wish you'd brought your GPS, so go ahead and get it.
Dad had the grace to laugh. But he got the GPS anyway.
Apparently it doesn't matter if we have the GPS or not; the conversation of the entire drive with the GPS is about the GPS. I don't think I ever posted much about the drive that he and I took to California for my last event, but he also insisted on the GPS for that trip, which is nearly 1000 miles on I-5. I got a little tired of the "continue 127 miles on I-5 south, then keep left to stay on I-5 south" and finally demanded that at least while I was driving, it be shut OFF. Especially since we both knew the way to my sister's house by heart.
But he loves his toy, and he put up with me when I was a teenager, so I suppose this is some kind of mild karmic revenge (very mild, considering what a brat I was at times).
In any case, today's trip was not much different.
Here is a rundown of our conversation/locations:
(Bottom of his driveway)
Dad: Do you have the address?
Me: No, but I know where we're going.
Dad: I need an address to put in my GPS.
Me: Actually, I tried to find one online and had problems getting a specific address.
(1 mile away)
Dad: Maybe I could enter the name of the coliseum.
Me: (pretending to focus on road)
Dad: Do you spell coliseum with one "L" or two?
Me: one, but now that you said it, I'm questioning it and I don't know any more.
(2 miles away)
Dad: Well, it can't find it with 1. It must be 2 "Ls." (pause with beeps of button pushing on the GPS) DOGGONE it, now I've got to start all over.
(3 miles away)
Dad: Turn left here.
Me: Are you sure? We've always gone right here before.
Dad: Yes, this is shorter.
Me: Okay, but you're going to have to tell me where to turn.
Dad: Don't worry, the GPS will tell us.
Me: Oh, so you got it entered?
Dad: No, but it will figure it out.
(5ish miles away)
Dad: Huh, it can't find it with two Ls either. I'm not sure what to look for.
Me: Try the stadium instead.
Dad: How do you spell the name of the stadium?
Me: H-E-R-E-N*.
Dad: Are you sure there isn't an "I" in there?
Me: Yes, I'm sure.
Dad: I really think there's an I in there.
Me: I hope you know this road, because I'm going to be really annoyed if I miss my race because you can't find directions on your GPS to a place that I knew how to get to if I went my own way.
Dad (clearly not listening to me): Maybe if I just type in the name of the city...
*This and other location-specific names have been changed. You know, in case someone I don't already know in real life reads this blog.
(10ish miles away)
Dad: OKAY! We've got it now.
GPS: In point one miles, turn right onto Dallas Road.
Dad: Up here, you need to turn right onto Dallas Road.
Me: We're already ON Dallas Road.
Dad: Oh. Hmm. That's weird.
(as I pass an intersection)
GPS: Immediately turn left to stay on Dallas Road.
Dad: Okay, I think the GPS has it now.
Me: I know it's dark, but if I hadn't turned left, I would have gone into a field. So far, not thinking this GPS is being very helpful.
(15ish miles away, and at least 10 additional instructions from the GPS to turn left/right to stay on Dallas Road where my only other option was to turn into a field or barn)
Me: This road may be shorter in mileage, but I think I prefer the other route because it is straight and you can go 55-60 the whole way. Slowing down to 15-20 miles per hour for a corner every quarter mile is not faster.
(20ish miles away)
GPS: Turn left to stay on Dallas Road and then turn left onto Highway 100.
Me: Okay, the road turns right, so I'm ignoring the GPS. I don't see any place to turn left.
Dad: That's okay, Highway 100 is right there.
Me: Good. At least I can find where we're going from here.
(Entering the north end of town)
Dad: Okay, now let's see if I can find the university.
Me: I thought you found it in the GPS.
Dad: No, I had to just enter the city. Hmmm...oh, it found the university bookstore, I'll enter that!
Me: The triathlon is not starting at the bookstore.
Dad: Well, but it could get us close to where you need to be.
Me: I already know where I'm going to park and how to get there, so you don't need to worry about the GPS any more.
Dad: I've got the bookstore entered!
(about a quarter mile into town)
GPS: At the next signal, turn left on Main street. Then turn left on Highway 100 North.
Me: That's not helpful.
Dad: Huh, I thought the bookstore was on campus. I wonder if they moved it.
(passing Main street without turning)
GPS: Recalculating. At the next signal, turn left on Center street. Then turn left on Highway 100 North.
Me: Again, not so helpful.
Dad: I wonder why it's doing that. Let me see if I can fix it.
(passing Center street without turning)
GPS: Recalculating. At the next signal, turn left on Washington. Then turn left on Highway 100 North.
Dad: I think I'm going to shut this off.
Me: That's the best thing I've heard since we left your house.
I managed to go directly to the place I wanted to park, got some helpful parking instructions from my dad (You'll get towed here!) (No, I won't, it's only regulated on weekdays, look, it's written on the sign!) and only had to walk half a block to get to the registration tent.
I am my own GPS.
And Dad? If you read this, thank you very much for letting me stay at your house, for getting up at 5:00am to support me, the perfect breakfast, and watching my daughter for the whole race. I couldn't have made it without you. But I'm buying headphones for your GPS.
Friday, April 1, 2011
April Fool
So not only have I not posted here much lately, but I haven't been able to train much. Sometimes I've had a valid reason (for not training), sometimes not so much.
I'm feeling wholly unprepared for tomorrow and in some ways am more scared about my ability to finish than I was five months ago for Catalina. Okay, since then, my back went out completely and I spent three months coughing. So in a way, I've had less time and am coming from a worse place than I did getting ready for that event.
This line of thought is not encouraging me.
Today I ran around taking care of all kinds of errands: depositing checks at my new bank account that is 10 miles further from my home than my old one, registering my daughter for summer ballet classes (still not sure why I'm doing that), getting the required apparel for said ballet classes, picking up glasses, getting a fuel belt and replacement water bottle for tomorrow's event, and probably more stuff that I don't even remember now.
Spent a couple of hours madly packing, checking my list (thank you again, Long Beach Triathlon Club for the laminated card) to make sure I have all my gear, rechecking to make sure the stuff actually made it into the car (unlike my helmet last time), have stuff for spending the night at my dad's for me and my daughter, and that I have my judging gear for tomorrow evening.
Rechecked everything again.
Husband home, woke up daughter from nap, drove down to Dad's, had dinner, chatted for a bit and now time for bed. Tomorrow is an early wake up call and my second triathlon.
And if I can do anything right for tomorrow, a good night's rest is about all I can hope for at this point.
I'm feeling wholly unprepared for tomorrow and in some ways am more scared about my ability to finish than I was five months ago for Catalina. Okay, since then, my back went out completely and I spent three months coughing. So in a way, I've had less time and am coming from a worse place than I did getting ready for that event.
This line of thought is not encouraging me.
Today I ran around taking care of all kinds of errands: depositing checks at my new bank account that is 10 miles further from my home than my old one, registering my daughter for summer ballet classes (still not sure why I'm doing that), getting the required apparel for said ballet classes, picking up glasses, getting a fuel belt and replacement water bottle for tomorrow's event, and probably more stuff that I don't even remember now.
Spent a couple of hours madly packing, checking my list (thank you again, Long Beach Triathlon Club for the laminated card) to make sure I have all my gear, rechecking to make sure the stuff actually made it into the car (unlike my helmet last time), have stuff for spending the night at my dad's for me and my daughter, and that I have my judging gear for tomorrow evening.
Rechecked everything again.
Husband home, woke up daughter from nap, drove down to Dad's, had dinner, chatted for a bit and now time for bed. Tomorrow is an early wake up call and my second triathlon.
And if I can do anything right for tomorrow, a good night's rest is about all I can hope for at this point.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
