I am back in Switzerland, and back to training, next up is Hawaii.
I have not spent September in Leysin before. It is kind of nice, to actually remember what autumn feels like. Last year I went from winter in Canada to summer in the Phillipines, to summer in Switzerland, summer in Canada, to warm weather in Korea, to scorching weather in Kona, to winter in Toronto, without getting to feel the nice crisp mornings, and cool but sunny days that can be so nice in the fall. So although I am may wish for warmer hands now and then while riding, I am also trying to be appreciate September, and getting to wear my favourite sweatshirts again.
Training is going fine. Good days, and tough days, and sometimes both at once. It is funny, some days you have lots of speed, or gears or choices in training, and other days there is only moving, or being still. The other day at swimming was one of those days. Usually I have a slow, medium, fast, and faster speed, but yesterday the only gears I had were on and off, or swim or sink. There was no fast, and there was definitely no very fast, since even moving forward seemed to require all my energy. I was not sure if it was a good or bad thing that Doc was not on deck. If he had been he would have probably would have had to throw in the inflatable life saving ring, since I pretty much looked like I might drown at any moment. Or he could have simply let loose one of the famous motivational talks that go something along the lines of “ If you are not bleeding out of your ears you are not going hard enough”.
Speaking of Doc’s stories, the other day he reminisced about a trip to Wilkes Barre for a triathlon.
Well, I remember Wilkes Barre and my first ITU points there, way back in the day when everyone was still riding aluminum bikes. Jasper Blake, Loch Vollmerhaus and I went on a road trip, in Jazzy’s Westafahlia. Half the time I have no idea where I am going, or where I have just been, so I had to look it up, and even decided to share the map.
Long story short- walking around after the race whenever anyone asked “How was your race?” My answer was “ I AM GETTING DRUG TESTED!”. How awesome. This was my first ever drug test, which in my books meant I must have had a good enough race to warrant drug testing. How exciting. Well, the excitement wore off a bit when an official had to follow me around, every moment, until I was ready to pee. So I drank as many bottles of water as I could get my hands on, and finally was ready to do it. Of course then I found out you first have to fill out a ton of forms, which I did not take into account, and my ready to pee moment, was soon must pee, was soon am bursting to go pee, while still filling out form after form, selecting which cup to pee in, which vial to store my pee in, which plastic bag to put it all in after, and a million other little choices you usually do not have to make in a normal bathroom break.
Finally, the paperwork done, and I found out that an official must come into the bathroom with me, and watch me actually go pee. Ok, this is not so glamorous anymore I thought. But my excitement was not to be destroyed so easily. It was a pretty memorable experience. And when I hear the name Wilkes Barre all I can think of is my first ever drug test.