Month: June 2010

Ode to Wetsuit

My wetsuit, Michelin, in a bag

I see you there, shoved in a bag on my chair. 

Green swim cap, suit gell, and a cap for my hair.

I don’t want to squeeze into your casing today.

I’d rather go straight home to pack and then play.

I timidly write a quick e-mail to Kitty.

Talk of the woes of my basement that’s shitty.

Both quickly agree that tonight’s not the night

to jump in the lake will not be our plight.

I guiltily put you back in to the drawer

secretly hoping I’ll see you no more.

My guilt quickly passes as I check out beach status

Advisory today would require breathing aparatus.

Next week perhaps, I’ll try again.

To change my mind is a right I maintain.


Me=Sausage – Wetsuit=Casing

In preparation for the lake swim this week, I had to try on the wetsuit I bought a couple of years ago for the Chicago Triathlon.  Some of you may remember that the original purchase of the wetsuit I fondly call Michelin was one the most horrible shopping experiences of my life. That was in preparation for Accenture.  Today, I am heavier and rounder than I was a couple of years ago, but I spent $200 on the thing and need to use it for this program.  The lake is 67 degrees and Thursday evening we are doing our first lake swim.  I need to try it on.  So, I went upstairs to my non air-conditioned room on the most humid night in recent history with the worst sunburn I have had since 6th grade, sprayed some goo on my ankles feet and legs and began the process of pulling the wetsuit on.  Inch by inch I progressed, I was nearly out of energy, sweat was rolling into my eyes, and I had only reached just past my knees.  This was going to be a long haul.  Pulling pushing putting twisting aching and rolling on the floor and finally, the thing was on past my ass.  With a twist and pull of the arms, over my shoulders (added tire marks to the sunburn) – but it was on.  I couldn’t get it zipped, so I went downstairs to have husband zip Michy.  It took a few minutes and some construction equipment, but finally, it was ON.  Wet sweat hair plastered on my head, I looked at my husband who asked  “Is it too big?”  I nearly killed him.  The scary part is that the whole process took over 30 minutes.  I am supposed to swim at the lake with a group of people after work.  I am NOT going to go through that workout in front of humans.  My strategy is this:  Dress in the gym at work, but only wear the suit to my waist.  Have K pick me up in front of my building.  At the beach, finish dressing and have K zip me up.  I hope it all works out and that I don’t spontaneously combust in the car or while we are waiting to start swimming.  I really question why I joined this program.

I’ll never do that again…Tales of Training gone bad

I hate meeting new people.  People tell me they don’t believe me when I mention this to them.  I am a pretty outgoing person when you get to know me (surprised by that?) But initially, I am filled with a sense of dread and angst before I meet new folks.  On that note, yesterday was heinous.  You see, my gal pal K and I signed up for another training program for tris.  Last night was the FURLKLE training or some crap like that.  No, the word is FARKLE which still sounds like IKEA furniture.  The plan was for me to meet K, do the w/out with her, load my bike onto her car and drive home.  Well, due to uncontrollable and horrible circumstances, K couldn’t meet me.  So, here is a recap of my LOVELY evening:

5:46 – Leave work on my bike to head up north for training.

5:50 – Nervously dodge cars and buses on the unfamiliar route.  Nearly get hit numerous times.

6:00 – Arrive at location, park bike and enter training building a full 30 minutes too early.

6:10 – 6:20 – Stand uncomfortably waiting while people mill in.  Note that each athlete seems to be the size of these people.  Listen to high pitched ramblings of tri stories and bragging.  Grow more and more nervous.

6:30 – Learn of the quick 3/4 mile jog…easy paced…to get to the training area at the softball diamonds.  Where there will be running and fast running in intervals.

6:40 – Begin the jog, realize my run is a slow jog and I feel slow but am going as fast as I can it is hot hot hot, everyone is passing me, wait how do I walk 2 jog  4 with this group why am I here I really don’t like this and don’t like one person especially that one with the stinkeye where is K

7:15 – One lap down everyone is evil I need to get away from them I am going back.  Fuck the FARTKLELSLEKLS

7:35 – Bags in hand, load up bike, head to train.

7:45 – Jackson Street elevator broken.  Attempt to carry 200 million  lb bike down stairs with my bike cleats on, sliding bumping jumping bike breaks $100 bike  bag.

7:50 – wait on train platform trying to guess which car will be a bike friendly car, inevitably guess wrong and have to run on platform with cleats on granite nearly kill myself but make it.

8:00 – Finally, on train.

8:30 – drink full glass of wine, cry to dear niece

8:45 – feel better

9:00 – resolve to NOT do this again

I am a Hoosier darnit!!

Last week my middle school post nearly tipped the scale for the most popular visited post in one day.  I am a sucker for statistics so I check the numbers all of the time.  I don’t know if it was the Tretorn talk or the trojan talk, either way, you read what I had to say.  I am a transplant to the Chicago area.  I grew up in Indiana…on Main Street in fact.  Even though I have lived here many years,occasionally in the summer, a smell, sound or a sensation hits me that reminds me of summers back home.  The lackadaisical attitude, walks to the “strand” to see a move, greek’s, riding bikes up and down main street.    When I look back on it, life seemed so much easier then than now.  Intellectually, I know it wasn’t, I mean there were mean girls ruining perfectly decent shoes for goodness sake.  But now that I am a mom, I wish for the same carefree summers for my children.  I don’t know if I can give them the same things in this Urban setting, but they’ll always know I am a Hoosier at heart.

Tuttle Middle school…memories….girls are mean

I remember my times at Tuttle Middle School to basically be horrible.  The 8th grade is still my Horrible Meter Benchmark.  If is wasn’t as bad as the 8th grade, then  it wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to me.  I don’t know why I am thinking of that today, but for some reason I can’t get the image of J stepping on and getting dirty G’s brand new Tretorn shoes.  These shoes, in case you didn’t know, were G’s favorite.  I believe she started a bit of a trend for the Tuttle Trojans (don’t ask).  Can I be frank here though.  The shoes are pretty ugly.  Here is a photo I found online.  I don’t really see the “specialness” of them at all, except that G is my BFF and I know SHE loved them.  Since they didn’t sell them at 3D discount or Airway, I didn’t have them.  I was  super mad at J for jumping on G’s shoes.  I am thinking of buying some Tuttle swag  just to keep these memories fresh.  Who knew that I actually CAN. 

imagine these with a little fresh mud on them

Makes me ill

I can’t get the gulf out of my mind.  That pelican photo is so horrible words can’t explain.  What can I do, what can I do to help?   I saw this blog today that told me what I can do.  I’m gonna shoot for a couple of these things.  I’m also going to call my salon and let them know.  I know you are losing sleep over this as well.  Do something.  It’ll make us all feel better.  Here are some of their recommendations:

  1. adopt a pelican
  2. write your congressman
  3. donate your hair, pet hair (only head hair)
  4. send a condolance card to families of the workers who died
  5. donate to audobon society
  6. tweet about the national wildlife federation

Bike the Drive

Sunday was gorgeous.  I was a little worried on Saturday night that I’d just be too beat to do the ride.  My dad and mom friend joined me on the ride.  We took the blue line downtown, true to tradition and continued south to Museum of Science and Industry back north then south, then home.  I was a much irked by the ride planners though.  I ordered an XXL shirt.  When I went to pick a shirt up, they had none for me.  Don’t ask me what size I want if you aren’t going to keep one for me!!  But, honestly, the ride was wonderful, the day was beautiful.  So glad that I did it again.  Good job to all who showed.

And the winner is…..ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I couldn’t sleep Friday night.  I was tossing and tossing about in the sheets.  When I saw K, K and L the next morning it seemed we were all in the same boat.  The plan of action was this, K and I would start at about 6:30, head south on the path till we got to 51st street, or wherever the Garmin told us we had completed 5 miles.  We said goodbye to K and L and took off at our snails’ pace.  Honestly, the first few miles were so beautiful.  I don’t know what was different about the run, but I had no problems breathing and felt good.  I was very happy for my hat as the sun was baking hot.  We were the first people across the 5 mile timing pad which made me laugh pretty hard.  I was imagining someone at a computer wondering how the heck these two got there so fast, granted we passed it going the wrong way.  At the turn around, we started seeing other runners, we saw the leader and then 8,000 runners started to pass us.  Note to runners, the best way to get encouragement during the race is to be a fattie.  Many people took time out of their run to congratulate us and tell us how good we were doing.  Partially in shock I believe, I am sure there were some questions as to how we got there so fast.  We did finish the race!  It was exciting.  I felt like dying at the end and those last 2 miles sucked.  I was so happy that P our partner and friend who couldn’t do the run cause of an injury cheered us on went the last few miles with us.  Here are some shots of the day.

Lake View

8,000 runners getting ready to pass us


The girls

 I probably won’t do another long distance run like this.  I think 10 miles is a little too long for me.  Maybe some shorter runs like 10 K or others, but I never really know what’s in store for me, hanging around with this group of women, you just have to stay on your toes!!  One final shot from the day. 

Yum. Wishbone.