Our beautiful neighbors…I think I eat more bananas then them!
Our beautiful neighbors…I think I eat more bananas then them!
Today’s swim actually called for some easy 800s though easy with paddles doesn’t truly equal easy for this girl. As I am ticking through the meters, my mind and body keep on telling me you are wimpy, your shoulders hurt, you are slow. Evil thoughts that tend to always creep there way into my head whilst swimming. One 800 done. Two 800s done. Three 800s done. Then the fourth 800 posed a bit of a problem as I was deliriously tired and so I started drinking in much more pool water than your average water-gulping fish. I could feel the water start sloshing in my belly and then I had this hilarious thought come to mind (though now I realize it wasn’t even remotely funny. I was just tired)…
I envisioned myself going up n’ down the pool which wasn’t too hard to envision as I was going up n’ down the pool but that is all besides the point. Anywho, I was swallowing more and more of the water and suddenly realize that I had drank the entire pool. So there my entire team is lying on the bottom of an empty pool attempting to finish there swim sets only to realize to their horror that Kate had accidentally inhaled all the water. Then Brett walks over to the side of the pool with that look in his eyes as to say What exactly is the problem here boys and girls? Of course, everyone is looking at me explaining that Kate drank all the water coach and of course, my belly was protruding larger than the Atlantic Ocean and all Brett says, without hesitation, is…GET IN HER BELLY!
Ok, so this thought actually made me have to stop on the side of the pool because I was laughing so unbelievably hard and the sad thing is now that I am reading this it just doesn’t make any sense. These are the things I have to battle in my head as my body starts to get more and more smashed. I apologize for bringing you into that world.
I have many people approach me and ask, “How do I get ridiculously good-looking arms?” It is a question I take very seriously and very rarely do I divulge any secrets however I feel it is only fair to allow for a small leak in my arm training routine. Now, people you must listen and listen closely…the program doesn’t include any of your fancy machines or pretentious dumbbells and absolutely no prissy little bands or 100s of push-ups. I mean, that stuff is all fine and dandy but for real results you must take it old school and when I say old school, I mean very older than old school. Take it back about a few million years when us men and women were supposedly monkey men and women. I know for absolute fact that our ancestors of great had ridiculously good-looking arms.
Start the arm Training young. This is key to future success.
How did our hairy relatives get such extraordinary arms without the gym and knowledge of reps and sets? Well, it is quite simple…in the morning, they think to themselves Oh, me hungry me needy food and sure enough they have to run to their nearest banana tree which happens to be just about 2 miles away. There they grab their beautiful yellow bananas and run home with bananas in tote and this my friends happens more than simply once a day. Yes, you may be giggling and thinking oh you silly little girl but the truth is, as my teammates witnessed yesterday the Banana Run is a staple in my ridiculously good-looking arms routine. Running with 10 bananas in your hand leads to arms that will make girls pee themselves at the swim start because they fear my chiseled biceps. It is all part of my plan to take girls out of the race before the race even starts. Banana-Rama!
No, the picture above is not from a National Geographic photo expedition. The picture was taken from my shower. Horrifying. A CODE RED situation. It happened like this:
After a 5 plus hour day of double biking, I decided that a deep cleansing shower was in order due to the fact that I may have mistakenly forgotten to shower after workout #1 instead taking a 2-hour power nap and hit workout #2 crusty, salty, sweating and absolutely disgusting. I fear this may not be the only time this happens at camp and I do want to apologize to my teammates for this little unfortunate mishap.
So, off into the shower I go. There I am singing and dancing with bubbles floating all around me and then, I peer through my sudsy eyes to see a hairy creature twice the size of me **slight exaggeration** sitting in the corner waiting to pounce. I squeal and squirm and panic. How am I going to finish my shower with this blood sucking, life-threatening thing staring at me with his beady, ginormous eyes?! At first, I think…forget the shower and run for the hills but then I remember I didn’t even take shower #1 today so I best scrub for the sake of hygiene and, I kid you not, I actually stepped outside my shower into my bedroom closing the door and soaped myself up in my room. Then, when water was necessary, I went back to the shower making sure to keep the door open for a quick escape in the case the spider attempted any fancy movements. I had visions of this spider taking me hostage, wrapping me in his silky web and feasting on my amazingly meaty body for the next year. Oh scary!
Once I was squeaky clean and properly dressed, I screamed for coach at the top of my lungs…Coach! Coach! Help me. Help me. My life is in severe jeopardy! Of course, coach didn’t respond and I had to go to plan B, which was run through the halls of the hotel until I ran into a man or lady willing to risk their pretty little life for a girl like me. Luckily, there was a man nearby who took that spider and man wrestled him until its heart stopped beating…though, unfortunately for me, 2 legs were left on the floor after the wrestling match and they quivered and shook. I closed my eyes and picked the legs up (with a paper towel) and through the squirmy massive legs into the trash bin.
Hopefully this mama massive spider didn’t lay baby eggs all over my room…I’m going to have nightmares!
Walking towards my massage I see angelically written on the little shops front massage for everyday people. It seemed so innocent and gentle. So, I politely slipped off my sandals and walked inside and asked for a basic Thai massage. The lady nods and points me to the bed where she draws the curtains around me and I assume that means time to get into my birthday suit. I start whipping off my clothes stripper style and she runs in saying, “No!no.no.” Oh dear. Probably gave her much more of show then she bargained for. I throw back on my shirt then she tosses me some oversized maroon clown bottoms and I think panties or no panties?…I went with a naked bum simply to feel more at home.
The massage started off gentle enough for the first 3 minutes. I thought how nice and soothing but not for long as ‘Strong Hands Magee’ went at my muscles with the wrath of an angry bull. I attempted to take the pain but I broke down and asked for more soft, more soft. That worked for 30seconds then back to the grinding. So, I winced and told myself this is good for me. Of course, right when I thought this is good she grabs my hands, kneels on my calves and pulls my body off the bed 1-2-3-4 times. I couldn’t take it anymore and completely broke down in a fit of giggles. How ridiculous was this? The lady didn’t even pause with my laughter she went right on hammering away then flipped me over like a jello sandwich and wrenched my quads and IT band until blood came out of my eyes. She would smile at my wincing as if someone told her I see beautiful little bunnies everytime I wince in pain.
And just when I thought I experienced the worst…all of a sudden her foot was jammed into my hamstring with legs folded like a pretzel and circulation denied to my most valuable body parts—this all made for a giggle fit #2 which my massage monster lady (who I adore) also joined in. There we are two of us laughing but she obviously doesn’t take a break in action and continually gnashes away at my little broken body.
I still don’t exactly know what happened and feel slightly abused and maybe slightly injured but in a weird sort of way, I think I truly enjoyed it and maybe even loved it.
A simple morning run in Krabi always seems to begin with a smile from May, the owner of our hotel. She doesn’t speak English but has a heart of gold and we have a mutual understanding of our extreme lack of comprehension of each other’s language so our smiles and nods do just fine. I have managed to write a few sentences in Thai and the locals appreciate the effort even though I am quite scared that the computer translations aren’t as eloquent as I wish.
Krabi is definitely a far world from home though most certainly a beautiful world. The people here live very simple lives. They are so gracious and kindly accept our cultural miscues. I actually fall a bit more in love with Thailand everyday. Simplicity is lost in America. Here people are outdoors all day working hard to provide for their families. There isn’t stress or hardship written on their face…there is comfort and a humble acceptance of their lives as they are. We road our first team ride yesterday and most every one waved and screamed hello. The kids here have such beautiful little faces. Their energies are so magnetic. I hope to take this simple world back home with me as it truly makes life all that more beautiful and peaceful. Stress is a good thing as it drives us forward to success and allows us to reach our full potential even at times conquering the impossible however stress is a double edge sword. Too much stress can drive us mad and takes from us our childlike wonder and joy. Take time in your life to enjoy the simple things.
Today, I experienced my first bike crash, an experience I wish upon no one as it was one of the scariest moments of my life. I’m not even quite sure what happened but I know there was a truck, an orange sign, and a girl on her bike (that girl would sadly be me).
I was riding south on the PCH back home to Santa Monica and for those who are unfamiliar with the Pacific Coast Highway, let’s just say it isn’t the most fun road to ride as you have four lanes of traffic, cars parked on the right, rocks-mud-sand and whatever else falls from the steep cliffs above and then there’s construction and all sorts of holes and lumps. So, why even bother riding on this crazy road? Well, for those of us living in Santa Monica, it is our one and only option in order to actually get to better and safer riding. I am an extremely cautious rider especially on the PCH as pedestrians and bikers most certainly DO NOT have the right away but sometimes cautious riding isn’t enough…
Orange is far from my favorite color and I swear to you I’ll be having nightmares of orange tonight. I could see the construction up ahead and the hazardously positioned orange cones and the diamond orange evil sign warning that there was some constructing taking place. Well, all this orange paraphernalia was going to force me over into traffic. So, I take a look and see no cars in the right lane—there was a truck about a ¼ mile back but in the left lane so I thought to myself no worries. I point to the right and inch over into the lane only to soon hear a blaring truck horn and I mean BLARING. PANIC! Complete Panic. I heard the truck and he was not braking, not even slowing the tiniest of bits. Quick thinking in my head went something like this take on an 18-wheeler or an orange sign…orange sign hear I come. I bolt my bike to the right braking like a mad woman. The only thought I remember thinking was that there was no way in hell I was going to be staying upright. All I recall was that there was some sliding, a leg slamming into the wicked orange sign, a bike being thrown into the air due to the signs stupid metal holders and then a girl on the ground buried under the orange sign. The good thing is that everything happened so fast that I didn’t put my arms down to brace my fall though my poor little right butt cheek took the brunt of the hit and then my right knee and right shoulder. A few scrapes and bruises but otherwise, I was perfectly fine. I have no idea how I managed to come away with nothing broken or a severe road rash. I definitely am lucky. Oh yes, my bike—perfectly fine as I think hitting my butt first on the ground saved her from severe damage. The sad thing was that no one stopped to help or even see if I was ok. At least 30 cars passed and not one even slowed. What in the hell is this world coming to?! or maybe that’s just Californication.
Moral of the story…don’t mess with the color orange or 18-wheelers.
Sometimes you gamble and you lose and today I lost. It was a weather.com type of training day. Those are the days when you stare at your computer screen checking the hour-to-hour forecast and pray that the weather breaks. Now, let’s be honest…I experienced those on a daily basis in New York City but now I’m blessed with lots of sunshine except for the occasional spouts of rain. Currently, we are enduring 5-day rain spouter so computer watching becomes vital. Of course, I could ride my bike indoors though Tuesdays are not indoor days so my head was out of it and the body was begging for fresh air… one more click of the refresh button and whala I had a break!
Shoes on. Helmet on. A few extra layers for warmth and I’m off. I was cruising. Absolutely crushing the bike—mind you, I believe I had a 30mph tailwind but back to what’s truly important—I was flying! Then, my flying had to end due to a sudden and massive explosion in the clouds HELLO RAIN. I make a super quick turn around and hello headwind. No more flying more like crawling wondering why I am so stupid and hoping my bike remains upright through the puddles and random mud pits. Not so much fun especially on a super busy road where I swear to you cars thought it hilarious to just come a bit closer to me and accelerate through the puddles so I experience a land tsunami. Not cool cars. Not cool.
Yep, I’m absolutely soaked to the bone. Muddy. A bit cold but then the rain stops. The wind dies down and I think, hell I’m already wet and muddy. Let’s go for some intervals. So lalalala I’m doing my little intervals up and down a 2 mile strip thinking I am an absolute genius because here I am cruising on my bike while everyone else is indoors because rain is cold and wet. Well, I pushed my luck. The gods revolted—they sent me a huge bolt of lightening and then a crack of thunder that nearly through me off my bike followed by a severe downpour and hurricane winds. I actually was a little scared but then, in a weird sort of way, I was completely happy. Giggling like a little school girl. Here I was biking in a torrential rain with winds blowing me all over the place and I was happy…actually, I was having the time of my life. I did one more interval just because I could. It felt naughty. So, in the end, maybe I did gamble though now I’m not so sure that I lost…I loved my wet little adventure except for the fact that my bike needs a major cleaning.
I honestly did not want to be the first true newbie to make an introduction but alas, I couldn’t resist. I am so excited to be apart of TeamTBB for 2010 and truly have admired you all and your accomplishments…also am hoping this bit of flattering will help me to avoid newbie initiations. My freshman year in high school I was forced to tread water in a river with water temps of 12c then had to run through a family neighborhood in just my undies and of course, the temp. was only a whopping 2c. I have nightmares. Please be gentle!
And, of course, I must share the story of how I began my 2010…
I apologize beforehand as this may cause cringing or a deep sorrow for my inability to avoid chaotic situations that typically only come about due to my own awkwardness.
It all began with some coconut water…
and I drank quite a bit due to being more thirsty than normal
Not a good idea because bladders are only so big…
My family will giggle at the beginning of this story because they know better than anyone that I have many of hundreds of pee stories. I don’t know why it happens to be this way but it is and I accept my downfalls in life. So, as it was, Mike and I hopped onto our bikes and headed out to the PCH. 10 minutes into riding and I already needed a potty break. 20 minutes – things were getting bad and at 30 minutes I knew I had to time trial it to the gas station bathroom which sits at just about 40 minutes into the ride. I screeched my bike into the station, unclipped my shoes, and ran me and my bike into the potty. I was in a hurry so quickly rested my bike against the wall and found some much needed relief UNTIL…
My bike started falling. I panicked. The last thing you want is your beautiful bike to hit concrete floor so I sprung off the toilet in an attempt to save her. The good news was I managed to rescue my bike just centimeters from its untimely death though without a price. When you have to go, you have to go and when you have to go bad well there’s little to do to stop it. Yep, I slightly wetted myself in order to rescue my bike but if that weren’t bad enough my aero bottle was full of water which spilled all over the floor. Wet concrete floor meets my bike cleats and you guessed it, I slip right onto my butt and worst part (here comes the cringing) I slip right onto my bare, white arse with shorts down at my ankles and tri-bike lying sprawled across me. It is a picture I wish none of you make a mental note of. At that point, I was laughing and crying and disgusted and ashamed and wet and piddled upon.
Oh 2010, how I love you so!
Happy Late New Year. I hope yours starts off dryer than mine.