the cheese: officially sliding off the cracker.
lately my mailbox is full of messages about meeting at the rock, the track, the pool, the veloway, the gym the high school, hugos house, not forgetting water, using pee charts, replacing electrolytes, lost goggles, fajitas and of course viagra. because ive had my email address since i was 13 and it was bound to happen that id eventually start getting letters from orphaned cocoa farmers daughters in africa who just need my bank account number.
i think i figured out coach adam is saying "hoo ya" and not boo-ya. which is a huge relief. im taking it as a sign that this was meant to be and i am cleared for take-off.
dave thinks i should be asking coach about substituting running for bouncing, though. swim-bike-bounce is the way he thinks it should go down. i told him id look into it but im doubtful adam would be hoo-ya'ing that, seeing as he's more of a backwards triathlete supporter.
this schedule is pretty intense and i think its starting to cause the cheese to slide off the cracker. I wake up on my back every morning which means im comatose through the night. which is most certainly unfamiliar territory. yesterday i lost my phone and found it later in my helmet. then i broke my vacuum and sucked up half my living room rug and scared the cats and there was definitely a lingering smell. then i forgot my clothes in the dryer. and today i lost my debit card. im starting to wonder if i should be operating heavy machinery.
so im losing it. but not in a bad way- i havent slapped on a diaper, grabbed a bb gun and high tailed it to florida yet- its more in a "oh im just turning into rumeysa" kinda way. we spend so much time together that shes starting to speak to me in turkish without noticing...and i think i understand.
one of the coaches even said something about us making a good team last weekend when we were riding and running side by side. when our core drills get so rough we're grunting and starting to hallucinate she yells for me to TELL HER A STORY TELL HER A STORY for distraction, and I just sing Pour Some Sugar on Me. and when one of the coaches rides up next to her to ask my name and say im pretty okay on my bike she explains how i used to train doing 30-40 daily miles on a big wheel back in the day.
so we've got each others backs and have even made elaborate escape plans over banana walnut pancakes.
yesterday morning i didnt have her there at practice to sing def leppard to but luckily it was the morning of the at&t marathon and there were live bands all around town lake. so when i finished my 5 mile run and coach asked how it was i just sang "867-5309" and the two girls running in front of me completely understood.
friday i was rich with cake balls. it was a pretty good day. i saw lucy baines johnson in the parking garage and somehow suppressed the urge to run up and ask her to make me sandwiches. demanding sandwiches from the presidents daughter is one of my coworkers fantasies since she lives on the top floors of our building and surely has jelly and peanut butter. everyone has jelly and peanut butter. and some days he's hungry for a pb&j and it would probably taste better if a presidents daughter made it.
it was this day i also realized this training im doing is testing my self control.. right about when rumeysa called to suggest we go to happy hour instead of yoga and i looked down at my cake balls and replied Cool lets get hammered.
so it was no down dog, just downed martinis for us. then i met this lawyer named after a cow and was intrigued. that is until i realized it was mardi gras and sluts were everywhere handing me bottle openers, cell phone cases and beads. then i remembered "oh forget you sluts i have to get up at 6:30am".
i was a good girl and didnt even stop by my friends "say goodbye to my beard" party.
and though im having to peace out of open bar parties before the cakes even been cut, Im really loving this crazy schedule. by 10am i have sang several great hits from the early 90s, run/biked/swam several miles, frolicked, learned about neuromuscular memory, cranks, wheels, rims, granny gears, and how to skin a cat. even after ive sucked up half my living room rug the day is still young.
so i nap a lot. my muscles ache, my bed is soft, the cats are purring. i fall into those deep sleeps where i wake myself up with my own talking and yelling. im sure my neighbors are excited about that AND the blender at 4:17am on weekdays when i make my pre-workout protein shake.
i like having my sights set on something because i think im getting stable enough on two legs to know how to go in for the kill. i think my parents are to thank for that. even though i keep having dreams that theyre kicking me out of the nest for buying the wrong soda and im yelling fuck yall im moving to turkey and jarring myself out of my 12pm nap.
i like getting up early to move in herds. and breaking away from the herd. and eating like a viking even though im sure vikings didnt have the luxury of cake balls. and learning the hard way that down dog is a much better pre-7am workout routine than 4 double gray goose dirty martinis. but as dave henke says "every day is a new opportunity for growth and development."
now if i could only remember where i left my debit card.
i think i figured out coach adam is saying "hoo ya" and not boo-ya. which is a huge relief. im taking it as a sign that this was meant to be and i am cleared for take-off.
dave thinks i should be asking coach about substituting running for bouncing, though. swim-bike-bounce is the way he thinks it should go down. i told him id look into it but im doubtful adam would be hoo-ya'ing that, seeing as he's more of a backwards triathlete supporter.
this schedule is pretty intense and i think its starting to cause the cheese to slide off the cracker. I wake up on my back every morning which means im comatose through the night. which is most certainly unfamiliar territory. yesterday i lost my phone and found it later in my helmet. then i broke my vacuum and sucked up half my living room rug and scared the cats and there was definitely a lingering smell. then i forgot my clothes in the dryer. and today i lost my debit card. im starting to wonder if i should be operating heavy machinery.
so im losing it. but not in a bad way- i havent slapped on a diaper, grabbed a bb gun and high tailed it to florida yet- its more in a "oh im just turning into rumeysa" kinda way. we spend so much time together that shes starting to speak to me in turkish without noticing...and i think i understand.
one of the coaches even said something about us making a good team last weekend when we were riding and running side by side. when our core drills get so rough we're grunting and starting to hallucinate she yells for me to TELL HER A STORY TELL HER A STORY for distraction, and I just sing Pour Some Sugar on Me. and when one of the coaches rides up next to her to ask my name and say im pretty okay on my bike she explains how i used to train doing 30-40 daily miles on a big wheel back in the day.
so we've got each others backs and have even made elaborate escape plans over banana walnut pancakes.
yesterday morning i didnt have her there at practice to sing def leppard to but luckily it was the morning of the at&t marathon and there were live bands all around town lake. so when i finished my 5 mile run and coach asked how it was i just sang "867-5309" and the two girls running in front of me completely understood.
friday i was rich with cake balls. it was a pretty good day. i saw lucy baines johnson in the parking garage and somehow suppressed the urge to run up and ask her to make me sandwiches. demanding sandwiches from the presidents daughter is one of my coworkers fantasies since she lives on the top floors of our building and surely has jelly and peanut butter. everyone has jelly and peanut butter. and some days he's hungry for a pb&j and it would probably taste better if a presidents daughter made it.
it was this day i also realized this training im doing is testing my self control.. right about when rumeysa called to suggest we go to happy hour instead of yoga and i looked down at my cake balls and replied Cool lets get hammered.
so it was no down dog, just downed martinis for us. then i met this lawyer named after a cow and was intrigued. that is until i realized it was mardi gras and sluts were everywhere handing me bottle openers, cell phone cases and beads. then i remembered "oh forget you sluts i have to get up at 6:30am".
i was a good girl and didnt even stop by my friends "say goodbye to my beard" party.
and though im having to peace out of open bar parties before the cakes even been cut, Im really loving this crazy schedule. by 10am i have sang several great hits from the early 90s, run/biked/swam several miles, frolicked, learned about neuromuscular memory, cranks, wheels, rims, granny gears, and how to skin a cat. even after ive sucked up half my living room rug the day is still young.
so i nap a lot. my muscles ache, my bed is soft, the cats are purring. i fall into those deep sleeps where i wake myself up with my own talking and yelling. im sure my neighbors are excited about that AND the blender at 4:17am on weekdays when i make my pre-workout protein shake.
i like having my sights set on something because i think im getting stable enough on two legs to know how to go in for the kill. i think my parents are to thank for that. even though i keep having dreams that theyre kicking me out of the nest for buying the wrong soda and im yelling fuck yall im moving to turkey and jarring myself out of my 12pm nap.
i like getting up early to move in herds. and breaking away from the herd. and eating like a viking even though im sure vikings didnt have the luxury of cake balls. and learning the hard way that down dog is a much better pre-7am workout routine than 4 double gray goose dirty martinis. but as dave henke says "every day is a new opportunity for growth and development."
now if i could only remember where i left my debit card.