Friday, May 28, 2010

Donuts in My Belly = Donut Around My Waist

So our new VP at work is buying my love with donuts. It's working. But it reminds me of two very different things from my past (neither of which have anything to do with triathlon or asthma... but I feel like anything concerning my dietary habits can break in to this blog).

1. Voltron
2. Cherry Fried Pie

I'm sure everyone around my age remembers Voltron. If you didn't have a Voltron toy, you probably knew someone who did. My brother had one. It was awesome. Seriously. Awesome. There were all these pieces that came together to make some bigger toy. Like a robot/superhero/magic puzzle. I kinda wish I had one. Not had one then... had one now.

Well, that's what the donuts are doing to my body. Little carbs are coming together into the fat that is coming together into the "is she pregnant?" belly that I have although I am certainly not pregnant. I have got to lay off the donuts.

Cherry Fried Pie on the other hand... well... those have a lot of history. Much like my VP is trying to buy my love with donuts, my high school boyfirend tried to buy his way into the private club with cherry fried pie. Sounds crazy, right?

Well, let me break it down for you. One day over a cherry fried pie (Mrs. Bairds in case you were wondering), I made a comment that a man who gave me flowers and cherry fried pie could likely get anything from me in return.

Anything.

I learned in 1997 that "anything" meant something very different to a 17 year old girl on a sugar rush and a 17 boy... Oops.

So for V-Day that fateful year, I got flowers and cherry fried pies. He did not however get in the club.

Which brings me to... does my VP somehow know that sugary bread products are my weakness? Does she know my now tatted up high school beau? Does fat like me so much that it flocks to me longing to be near or does it hate me so it's launching an offensive?

My guess is that this train of thought is not what was intended when we were given moral boosting donuts. However, it not only happened, but sucked my mind off work long enough to type up this garbage post.

Just call me the donut eating employee of the week.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The White Speedo* Caper

(MUSIC THEME)

NARRATOR:
Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to hear is true. Some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

(MUSIC UP)

NARRATOR:
You're a Triathlete. You're assigned to swim workout. You get a call that lane one has been terrorized by a bandit who wears a white Speedo. Your job - Find him.

(MUSIC UP)

ANNOUNCER:
Trinet -- the documented drama of an actual crime against swimming. For the next three minutes, in cooperation with the AsthmaAthlete and All Tri, you will travel step by step on the side of the law through an actual event transcribe from unofficial files. From beginning to end. From crime to punishment. Trinet is the story of your blogger in action.

(MUSIC FADE)

TUESDAY:
It was Tuesday May 11. It was cool in Richardson. We were waiting to work out at TI before the night watch. My partner's Steven Hooser. The boss is All Tri Coach, Sean Gassman. My name's Lacey. We had just left the office and it was 7: 06pm when we got to the corner of TI Boulevard and Drive K. The TI Activities Center Pool.

Okay- Seriously...

There was totally an older gentleman chilling in the pool in a white, brief style, not-as-thick-as-one-would-have-hoped swimsuit. Ugh. I feel like this sight is worse than the knowledge that people pee in there. I mean... I can't see pee... I can clearly see this guy's personal business. And personal business should be kept confidential.

To make matters worse...

You know how when something smells bad, you immediately offer it to your friends with a cheerful, "smell this!"? Or when you are going through your tri gear after an event and you feel compelled to check out how wet everything still is... and not from the swim? You know how even though you are bothered after you look, you can't help but stare at the dead animal on the highway as you speed by at 70mph? Well, first I pointed it out to Steven (because what heterosexual guy in his mid 20s doesn't want to see a 50+ year old man in a white, wet, speedo?). Then I kept looking. I was drawn to it.

Unfortunately for all of you, I did not take a photo. It seemed like the kind of thing that would land me on a government list of some sort.


*I feel like I should apologize to Speedo. I'm certain the man's swimsuit was not a Speedo. The company I've loved for so long would not forsake our relationship by creating this monstrosity.

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MS 150?

More like MSAROUND50.

I know I should have been more excited about doing this. My company was behind the event. They even provided us with cycling jerseys (really it was just for the PR- they don't fool me).

I considered staying in bed. That is how little I wanted to bust out a ride 6 days after my marathon. My legs were still hurting. My chest was still hurting. My attitude was still really hurting. Unfortunately, someone called me and work me up well before dawn and cheerfully asked if I was on my way. I rolled over in bed and lied.

"Yes, I'm in the car."

Ten minutes later... I was. Yawn.

It was really cold. Unpleasant. I'm sure for a lot of folks, the weather was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. I however was wearing a fleece jacket. No big deal, I'll warm up on the course.

I took a few pictures of the team and then realized I ought to use the restroom before setting off. Something about cycling makes me have to pee.

Ahhh... a row of port-o-potties that have been used by about 2500 people already this morning. I really wish I still had keys to the Tornado office. I really, really wish I had zero sense of smell. I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY wish I had toilet paper.

God heard my prayer and sent and angel. Apparently he saw the look of fear on my face and handed me a starbucks napkin. What a dear.

Now, where did my team go?

Not a clue.

So I set off mostly alone. I got in a pleasant little draft line with a guy who had a bear on his jersey, a guy with a Guinness jersey, and a girl with pigtails. Luckily for me, they pushed the pace and didn't stop much.

I rode for a bit. A couple hours. Decided I didn't want to pay for a shuttle back to my car. Took the numbers off my bike and helmet. Turned my back to the course. And went rogue. I'm a maverick. Not to be confused with a maverick.

Back at my car, I finished up the morning like coach wanted, with a run. Brick. Ugh.

All told, I think it was a pretty pleasant day. If nothing else, I realized that I'm only doing these things to make myself happy. 150 miles or not- this was on my terms.

Tomorrow- Warrior Dash.


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Warrior Dash



Slowest. Run. Ever. Yep.

Okay, so I walked for the most part. And slid. And had a wet muddy feeling in the seat of my pants.

But...

I saw a super tasty fellow in a loincloth. I didn't have an asthma attack in the giant wind tunnel. I was the cleanest person in my group. We had awesome matching outfits. And the wet muddy feeling in the seat of my pants? Well, happily, it was just pond water and actual mud in the seat of my pants. The fire/barbed wire/warriors didn't literally scare the... never mind.

This event was great! It was well organized, fun, fairly safe, full of variety, affordable, and memorable.

The obstacle recap:

Tornado Alley- I'm from Oklahoma. The only thing that scares me about Tornadoes is the dirt they kick up and the possibility of needing my epipen. Nobody wants a Macauley Culkin incident on the first obstacle. Vada Sultenfuss can't take another loss like that. It was surprisingly winding.

Walk the Plank- This was not nearly as exciting as the image I will always associate with walking the plank. Nor was it as romantic. But it was caked in mud and a fair bit wobbly. Oooo... it's getting scary.

Mud Slide- There was no way to avoid super dirty bottom. Best part about the mud "slide"... the mud was more of the sticky consistency, so people weren't sliding so much as they were dragging their pants through the muck, trying to stand up and falling. Awesome. Have I mentioned I like it when other people fall?

Rio Run- Ummm... brrr... This was greatness. Clumsy people falling all over the place. I am a water rat though, so kudos to me for not falling and staying pretty flippin' dry.

Mud Climb- If you were still clean when you got here, it wasn't going to last long. once you had soaked clothes from the creek bed, getting up the incline was no easy task. Even if you could find a spot that wasn't too slick, as soon as you put your foot down to step, water would squeeze out and send you back down into the poor fellow behind ya.

Hay Fever- Ever been in a hay maze? No. Then you might be impressed. But it's doubtful.

Breathless Bog- As I've mentioned, I'm generally a water lover. Wearing knee length spandex pants, a tshirt, knee high socks, and 10 year old running shoes does not a fun swim make. I had trouble getting over the log, bumped my knees to crap, and drank water from a feed the children commercial. Too harsh? Sally Struthers is fair game, but contaminated drinking water in an impoverished nation isn't really your style? Sorry. I'll make a note. Anywho, I was all wet and sliding around on a huge piece of wood.

Splintering Spools- Another piece of easy. Thanks, after the swim, I need to regain my confidence.

Cargo Climb- Easy.

Warrior Roast- Okay, sad news. The flames were maybe a foot high. Sadder news. I'm so clumsy that I was legitimately afraid of hurting myself by falling on my face in a pile of coals. Saddest news. The event photographer caught my fear with his amazing skills. My face is forever emblazoned on a proof somewhere showing the expressionof the biggest wuss ever.

Muddy Mayhem- I was so clean. Michel intentionally got mud in my face. That's was big bothers, I mean brothers, are for.