The Good Dirt

...kind of.
you can visit me here:
http://www.thegooddirt.org
new web site. put it up only yesterday. comments highly, highly welcome--and encouraged!

...yep, that's what I'm doing. had a dismal swim this morning, so I am treating myself to tater tots.
I feel like I'm dialing in my times for the triathlon, and at this rate (the rate of my training results) it looks like I'll come in right around the 16-hour mark if all goes well--really, REALLY well--on the bike course.
I mean, really really well. I'm not sure if I just need to do more in terms of my gears or what, but it's starting to freak me out a little bit that it took me 5 hours to ride 56 miles. Admittedly, they were 56 very hilly miles, but I haven't actually improved on my times, really, except that it's now taking me 4:43 minutes to do the same four loops of that course. that takes me to about nine and a half hours. Assuming no more improvements...let's see...that's nine and a half hours on the bike, an hour and a half for the swim...that leaves me five hours to do the marathon after all of that, and that's not factoring any transition times.
Argh! Argh!!!
I don't *want* to finish just barely under the wire (it'll already be 11PM, for starters); I want to finish happy. Crikey. Well, we've got a few weeks yet to kick it in, and there's no saying if this bike course will be harder, easier, whatever than the Switzerland course. And anyway, I'll be on my bike TWICE as long as I have been lately. Crikey.
Anyway...what else? I've passed a very nice few last few weeks. I've been down to the city twice already and seen various friends. It's been nice to catch up with them, but I am still missing a critical few who've somehow not been able to work out their schedules. However, this Friday I am going down to the city to see Stickley for the Guggenheim's exhibit on Frank Lloyd Wright, and a picnic in the park of sopresetta and some good prosciutto might jut have to follow that.
On Sunday, Kate, Jim, and I went to see the incredibly well done Coraline. The main character is played by a 56-year-old woman, and nearly all of the musical work is done on toy pianos--or balloons! What a great production. We got to meet Kate's friends Laini Taylor and her illustrator husband Jim DiBartolo, too, and the company was just divine, as was the conversation afterwards at The Cowgirl's Hall of fame, where we ate a Frito pie and had dinner together. *So* much fun. And such a treat to be around such terrific people.
Here are some photos:
1. This is our new car, Erv. He is a Subaru station wagon! We like him.
2. Here is Laini looking agog at the photo she just took of the Frito pie.
3. Here are me and Kate. My hair needs fixing.
4. Here is our group!!

       

Click here to download:

waiting_for_tater_tots.zip (3915 KB)

never mind the fact that i look half-asleep.

i found my cassette player!!

i was so excited to get the Interwebs today.
but a few things have gone wrong:

1. i've started a course of Chinese lessons because i recently unearthed a full course of at-home study from my days working as an advertising sales representative, when my clients gave me free stuff. i also recently unearthed a cassette tape player separate from finding the study course, which i need to play the cassettes included in said study course. i've got started on the course, but now i can't find the cassette player, and i've the horrible feeling that i tossed it, because i'm apparently unable to connect A & B in my brain (as in, "A + B = capability to learn Chinese needed for ShelterBox"; "A without B equals no Chinese capability").

2. the verizon people in White Plains suck. they are the worst customer service people i have ever met in my life, and my telephone still doesn't work properly. i hate them, i hate them.

3. health insurance in New York costs an arm and a leg compared to what's available in Chicago. an arm. and a leg.

4. no one wants the fleeces i posted on freecycle.

5. we found a box of stuff that the movers "packed" by just throwing everything in willy-nilly. there is nothing quite like that to make you feel like your possessions are worthless. which, of course, they're not, but it kinda stings to know other people feel that way.

6. the bank is refusing to send me my checks, because Chicago is "on the west side" and "we can't order stuff for an account 'like that.'" alright then.

7. there are no WaMus within walking distance of here, which means i have to use the dreaded Chase conglomerate.

8. i am skipping today's workout. :(

9. that means double tomorrow.

10. i think that's all there is to complain about.

11. except for the raging PMS, which might be causing some of this upsettedness. my cycle is off, so i had to wait a full cycle to restart the pill. always a pain. blah, blah, blah.

12. what else? what else? ... egads. there is *so* much to put down. we've had a number of very nice occurrences, but not enough to re-balance my day, it seems.

13. oh, right. i also can't find my camera cord, which means i can't either charge it or connect it to my 'puter. sigh. the hits keep comin'.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

for some reason, the Genesis site has me down as a DNF for the half IM. pay no attention. this is sheer ridonkulousness; the man who came in a full 35 minutes behind me somehow looks like he's got a solid finish. :(

I wrote this for the Just Finish community. It took a lot longer than I thought it would. I'm tired, and there's a glitch at JustFinish which won't allow me to post, so I'm posting the thing here.
Argh!
----
It happened so quickly. Jim, my boyfriend, and I were moving from Chicago to New York, when all of a sudden, it hit us: we have a do a half-Ironman five days after we get to New York. And then, two days before the race day itself, something else hit us: Wait, what? The race isn't Sunday, but Saturday?

Oh.

Fortunately, we'd had the foresight* to pack all of our triathlon gear before the movers took everything out of our home in Chicago. Into two suitcases went our wetsuits, running shoes, triathlon shorts and tops, bike shoes, and helmets. And, thankfully, one sports bra and one pair of socks.

I say "thankfully" because, as of today, I still have not unearthed the box containing either my socks or my sports bras.

I'd like to take a poll at this point. How many of you are aware that New York has hills? Oh, good. I'm glad to see that you all knew what we had conveniently forgotten after living in the prairie flat lands of Chicago, because at least some of you will go into races in New York with decent training. Jim and I are training for an Ironman in July, so we thought, okay, this won't be a piece of cake, but it'll be doable.** We did not, however, bank on the fact that packing and saying goodbye to the aforementioned flat lands would be both time-consuming and exhausting. It was so time-consuming, in fact, that neither of us did anything resembling exercise in the two weeks prior to the race.

We got to the racecourse OK, leaving our boxes behind for the day, and, casting angry looks at the cloudy sky, turned on the radio to hear this forecast: "sun and clouds today, with some showers." Boy, I said, I'd like to be a meteorologist. I get to say just about anything and the chances are one in five I'll get something right.

We got marked up and started setting up TA, then struggled into our wetsuits*** for the pre-swim. We glanced at the water, took note of the orange buoys, and then dipped our toes into the surprisingly warmish water of Lake Welch. It was at this point that I began to have an inkling that there might be some untoward magicks all over this course, because when I looked at the buoys again, why, <i>they weren't there.</i>

And then it started to rain. I floated up to my neck in lake water, where it was warmer than air temperature, and looked in vain through my goggles for the buoys. No such luck; they'd been covered entirely by a thick layer of what the English call "pea-soup fog," and what I call "pain in the ass." Time went on, creeping steadily toward race start, and then they delayed by 15 minutes, and then, as the buoys stayed floating between ether and reality, the race directors called the swim and we were told to get our sneakers on for a run-bike-run.

We were told that we were going to run a mile and a half total on an out-and-back course, and would you believe that I actually considered adopting my run-walk strategy for even this section?**** In the end, I jogged it and was passed by someone looking to be a strong octogenarian.

I finished the jog second from last and hopped onto my bike. Quick transition, since I didn't have to struggle out of my wetsuit. The bike course looks like this:

Why, yes, those *are* ugly hills! The Harryman is rumored to be the hilliest triathlon course on this side of the pond. On this continent. In this country on this continent.  We do four loops of this 14-mile course in order to make the 56 miles needed for a half-IM, and since the course ends with a 2-mile slog up a hill of roughly 4-5% grade, there was massive sucking of wind and grinding of gears each time we completed a lap.

Lap one was gorgeous. The course has a lot of great rolling hills and some beautiful scenery, and since it was still foggy and rainy out, the only time I didn't enjoy the course was when it rained on me while I was moving at 30 miles an hour down a hill. By the end of the first lap I was nursing a bruised lip from an over-zealous raindrop or fifty and pissed. Still, I thought to myself that if I could just hold that lap time (1:06), I could finish the bike course in well under five hours and slog through the run.

I can't really describe the scenery to you: there was fog everywhere, and you could almost imagine woodland creatures hiding in the shrubs, leading quiet lives, not being able to see or hear you. The fog had two other eerie effects: You never really knew where the hills ended or were, and you didn't actually ever feel like you were moving. Neither of these is desirable, but it didn't lessen the overall other-worldly feeling of the course, which was highly enjoyable. Also, this meant that the entire race was done in nice 60-degree temperature.

My second lap was pretty rough. I got lapped by the front-runners on the course, which wasn't really a surprise--Jim's first lap was close to 45 minutes, after all--but it was marginally disheartening to feel my arms start to cramp. I learned, too, that when you put your Camelbak on, it's a good idea to check and make sure you aren't carrying anything extraneous: a massive multi-tool, for instance, or an apple (?). My pack sagged off to one side, creating a huge weight on my left that rapidly led to a cramp in my lower back. I'm sure the weird calisthenics I was doing while riding didn't do anything for my second or third splits (1:15 and 1:24, respectively).

The third lap was OK. Another cyclist stopped to talk to me and I almost told him to go away. My fourth lap I passed and then got passed by the same girl just a mile to the finish. That was marginally annoying.*****

I went into transition and dropped that annoying Camelbak, slid on my running shoes, and went out for a small 13-mile jog. By this time the sun had come out****** and I was covered in a fine layer of crust and any gnats that got near me, since they just stuck to my crust. My legs didn't work all that well during the first mile, but I settled into my run/walk fairly well, until the aid station at Mile 8.5 came about, and I ate a banana, six pretzels, drank 8 ounces of water, and slugged down a gel.******* Then, since my legs had stopped working and I discovered that I had a new, somehow already pained muscle  (lower abs! holy crap!), I opted to run the flats and downhills and walk the uphills.

That worked until the end of the race, which, thankfully, is on a flat. My final time was 8:09, which, even if you factor in my regular 1.2-mile swim time, is about an hour faster than my first time doing this race four years ago.********

I think this is a good thing. But now I have to go unpack my boxes, and find my kneecaps, which I think richocheted off my legs when I sat down to go to the loo this morning.

*This is the last time foresight will appear in this blog post. Treasure it.
**cf "foresight," above.
***Note to self: two weeks off training=unseemly layer of pudge.
****Believe it.
*****Read "marginally annoying" as "&#($#!"
******"marginally annoying"
*******read "ate" as "hoovered, like a pig deprived of its daily slop for a week."
********I finished that race followed by my own motorcade of vehicles with blinking lights on them.

will some STNG fan enlighten me?
whatever it is, i love it: