Happy Mothers' Day

This is a bit early, but I will be flat stick busy for the rest of the week and probably won't have time to post before Sunday.

MOTHER'S DAY 2003-2008.
5 years ago I was throwing up around the clock and fearing I would miscarry.
4 years ago I 'ran' 4km in 38 minutes, 4 minutes slower than my Mum!Three years ago it was such a beautiful day I did the 8 km instead of the 4km and had such a good time I ended up finishing my first half-marathon later that year.Two years ago it poured with rain, I ran on my own and no-one took any photos. It was still a great day.
Last year I was so proud to be sharing the day with Mum and Noddie that I ignored my sore ankle.

Last June I thought I wouldn't be racing again until now.This year we will be running together again. You're the best, Mum.

HAPPY MOTHERS' DAY TO MY WONDERFUL MUM, AND TO ALL THE MUMS READING THIS.

IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: If you have a Mum, or the woman you love is a Mum, go and organise an EXCELLENT present STRAIGHT AWAY.

All the cool kids have one

A heart rate monitor! I am slowly but inexorably being sucked into the vortex of training toys. I blame Wes and Misty. I'm sure it will make all the difference once I work out how to make it stop telling me I'm dead.

UPDATE: OMG I am TURTLEY in love with this thing! How fun is it to know that you ARE working hard enough - but not too hard? So much information! So much beeping!UPDATE: Yesterday I finally got around to installing the bike computer I got for my birthday (clearly I was temporarily possessed by the spirit of some mechanically-capable person).
WHERE WILL IT ALL END?

ORN*: 15m

That’s minutes. Oh well. Little by little. Thursday I’ll do 30 min and then on Saturday the prescription is an hour.
Following the lead of the mighty GGtI in not being All Complaining All the Time (not that there’s anything wrong with that), here’s my list of 10 things that made this week a good one.
1. Noddie is totally the best in her swimming class – after 3 weeks, vindicating my decision to delay sending her until she was old enough to have appropriate motor co-ordination and social skills. Proud Mummy/bang my head moment: we go to the pool nearly every week, and nearly every week Noddie wants to float on her back - with her chin tucked right down on her chest. So nearly every week I suggest she might like to point her chin up at the ceiling – and nearly every week she bellows “NO!” in her implacably contrary way. In swimming class she is the only one who points her chin at the ceiling.
2. Damn but I like riding my bike! Last night I went out – coz my back is much better and the physio said I could! - and it was wild and woolly, and windy, and the rain spattering on my jacket made a cool sound, and my yellow glasses made everything look spectacularly eerie - and when I got home the heater was on and Noddie was teaching the Spousal Unit how to play the triangle.
3. I have quite a bit to do at work. This is good. Trust me, there are few things more soul-sapping than feeling pointless.
4. We are all completely in love with the dinosaur fairy lights that J brought home for Noddie’s room.
5. In spite of my pizza-and-wine fuelled pity party, a sensational and excessive Vietnamese lunch out with J, and a week of no exercise, I have maintained my weight. The downward crawl continues – is 3.5kg in 4 months some kind of record for slowness?
6. I actually like my new haircut
7. It only took about an hour to fix the mistake I made in the cardie I’m knitting for Noddie
8. My Bulldogs RULE!
9. It appears that the people at the church where Noddie has started Sunday school are nice and interesting enough to make up for the minister’s simplistic fundamentalist theology.
10. Tonight J is working late so Noddie and I are going to rug up and go for an Adventure Walk along the creek in the dark!

More anon, moondancers
*Obligatory Running News

Cranky pants

WARNING TO BLOKES: HIGH CHICK STUFF CONTENT!
Unusually, it is NOT your intrepid correspondent LBTEPA who is cranky pants. It is....errr.... how to put this?...my nether regions that are unpleasantly grumbly and PMS-y, and my lower back - while 200000% better than last week, thanks for asking! - is still a bit niggly. So I am a bloated barrel of achy, self-loathing jelly (for clearly, had I been a better person, i.e. more self-disciplined and harder-working, I would have lost more weight and got fitter and none of this would be happening. Please note the absence of the word rational from this description).
And yet, a strangely cheerful BBoA,S-LJ! Life is good. More anon, consumers of yummy crunchy things!

Silver Linings R Us

You are all the biggest DARLINGS who ever drew breath. This is for you. Or this, if you prefer. Up to you.
Now- this pesky sprain. It's mild and should be resolved in a week or so. Unfortunately I don't have a spare ten days - I was already so behind where I wanted to be in my training that it was time to say "enough!" I'm ok about it now. Really. I've even attempted to emulate the heroic Simlin, and given the leftover pizza to the dog. Not that Simlin gave pizza to his dog . But anyway (and aren't strong pain killers the best?) I'm fine. See? I did a list! Lists make everything ok!

BAD THINGS ABOUT DOING THE HALF RATHER THAN THE FULL MARATHON
I really reallly reeeaaalllly wanted to do it! Waaaahhhh!
Nowhere near such good bragging rights.
I feel stupid dragging the family 2000km to do something I could do in Shepparton (BTW no disrespect whatsoever to Shepparton - it's a lovely course)
Explaining why I'm not doing the full will be tiresome.
I'll have to wait until 2009 now as I have Other Plans for later this year.
No excuse to go mental at the expo :(

GOOD THINGS ABOUT DOING THE HALF RATHER THAN THE FULL MARATHON
21.1km is still a pretty long way.
The half-mara starts at 6.30 so I'll have finished before it gets too hot.
The Spousal Unit and Noddie won't have to hang around for hours and hours waiting for me.
I can run with ihatetoast, at least until she gets to full speed. Then I will watch admiringly as she zooms away.
I'll be properly prepared for this and for a full marathon when I do it.
I'll see the full marathon winners finish!
I can cheer on my CR friends doing the marathon.
I will enjoy the rest of the day - and the rest of our lovely holiday - much more if I'm not exhausted and footsore.
I still get bling!
More anon, rainbow-chasers.

50% off

SHOCK ANNOUNCEMENT: In a freak sock-picking-up accident*, LBTEPA has sprained her lumbo-sacral ligament (the doover connecting the spine and pelvis) and on physiotherapist's advice will not be running the Gold Coast Marathon in July. As LBTEPA's physio points out, the trouble with sacral instability is that you can only find out how dodgy it is by testing to destruction, as it were (note: persons whose hobbies do not include endurance sport are unlikely to do this) and then fixing it.
LBTEPA's team is considering what action to take against her unstable pelvis. An intensive strengthening campaign will commence as soon as possible. In the meantime, a programme of anti-inflammatories and ferocious sulking will be undertaken.
LBTEPA was understood to be bitterly disappointed, but in good spirits. Sources close to her have revealed her comment upon hearing of the marathon veto:
"Oh well, you still get bling for the half".
LBTEPA now intends to cry and eat too much pizza.

More anon, silver-lining finders!
*This is completely true.
**I just knew that shirt would come in handy one day.

Memory lane

Red snakeskin dancin' boots + tight jeans +


+
+










+





+









+ my favourite band from my roaring days,Weddings Parties Anything +

=

In like Flynn

*Squeals and does excited girly hand-flap*
There's cash on the barrel now. If it takes me six hours, then it takes me six hours.
*grins, a bit nervously*
As IronGeekGirl says, I may be slow, but I'm stubborn!
Now all I have to do is.....run. Easy*. There aren't even any lions.

More anon, rainbow-chasers!
*Cheerful LBTEPA, who is currently in charge of this blog, is clearly Out Of Her Mind. Oh well

No whingeing today

...so this will be a very short post! I have a rampaging chest infection including quantities of lurid phlegm (now everybody say ewwwwwwwwww)
I can't run, ride or even walk very far because I can't take a deep breath.
I'm going to the doctor this afternoon for the strongest antibiotics he has in his arsenal.
I WILL be better SOON.
I'm not giving up on the marathon yet.

More anon, snifflers!

A nice surprise

This post isn't all about Another Bloody Cold that my revolting germy spouse and offspring have foisted upon my poor hard done-by immune system, nor how angry I am with them for insisting on sharing their toxic emissions, nor how this may well be yet another sign from the universe that I am just not meant to do this marathon because I am so far behind my schedule it's a joke.
No no no no no
it's not.
Really.

Long long ago, in a blog I can't precisely recall, I saw a logo like this. Oooh, I said to myself, how cool! So I g00gled it, as you do, which led me to the gymskinz site. This site is run by the lovely Tav, and contains many t-shirts with See What a Hardcore Triathlete I Am, Loser slogans. There are also some funny ones (ie that appealed to my cranky old bat sense of humour), so I emailed the lovely Tav and tried to order a couple of the technical shirts. And tried. And tried. So much went wrong. Poor Tav. Poor me. It just didn't work. There was too much distance between us (it also had a lot to do with cafepre$$ refusing to recognise a non-US postcode). No amusing shirt, fascinatingly made of crab and prawn shells (true!) for LBTEPA.

The other day I got home from work to find an excitingly squishy parcel. In it was this! And this!Two fabulous, completely unexpected, completely free shirts, all the way from Canada, with a lovely note from the lovely Tav apologising for all the delays, which were not his fault. What a nice man!
I did my long run in one of them the other day and can heartily recommend their moisture-removing qualities and complete absence of chafing. They are beautifully soft and (so far) don't retain bad smells. Thanks Tav!
I'm going to have to get an Athena one now......

Relieved

I’m so glad I didn’t post yesterday and you should be too.
It would have been all OMG my calf is so niggly and sore, how can this be happening? Why oh why did I think I could step straight back into my marathon training? I am such an idiot. It’s not fair, I’ve wanted to do this for months and now it’s all screwed up, I knew I shouldn’t have blogged about it, everyone will think I’m a piker who gets stupid injuries, why did I enter that bike ride? Now I can’t do Melbourne if the Gold Coast doesn’t work out, maybe Hobart in January? But then I’ll be training for (Top Secret too-scary-to-even-mention Summer Plan) oh dear oh dear what if it hurts on tomorrow’s run? I don’t want to go but then if I don’t I can’t run on Saturday I think I’ll just eat something and maybe have a glass of wine oh great now you’ll be fat as well….
Stretch, roll on foam roller, take anti-inflammatories, worry.
Repeat.
Luckily FOR YOU I was boring even myself to tears and couldn’t bring myself to inflict my self-absorption on anyone else.
AND THEN!! halfway through this morning’s Run O’Bleating I realised my calf was feeling fine! Judging from the protests my glutes are sending me, my pesky pelvis probably switched itself off some time ago - it does that. Thanks Noddie! - and has just been made to switch back on again by my physio. Well I say to it, it’s time to get your arse into gear! (hahaha I am so funny)
Two comments on my last post really made me think. Lisa asked, don’t you ever take a break? It’s true, all this triathlon-marathon-bike ride carry-on might seem a bit over the top (not to you of course Wes, GG and SB) - it often does to me! But the thing is, this year I have time. Next year I’ll be back at uni and until 2013 life will be about juggling family and work and study and time and fatigue. This year it doesn’t matter if I’m too tired on a Sunday afternoon to absorb information or produce anything coherent. This year is my opportunity to go after big dreams that I don't really understand why I want so much. I just do. Which brings me to SB’s comment, on my writing that I couldn’t imagine why, or how, I would do these things.
Because they are there to do, and one step at a time.
Amen, brother.
More anon, feathered friends!

the walrus said

The time has come to Announce my Winter Plan.
I'm doing thison July 6th.
And this on October 19th.

At the moment I cannot imagine why. Or how.

Summer's end

RACE REPORT: GATORADE RACE 6
DISTANCE - 750/20/6
TIME 1:44
RATING – RELIEVED
This is a ‘splat’ (unedited) post.
It’s been a pretty long season, for me – four sprint and one Olympic distance triathlon, three ocean races ranging from 2-4km, all in three and a half months, with my thesis, Christmas, summer holidays and a birthday or three mixed in. I never really ‘lifted’ again after the Olympic distance, and then when my old friend the unstable pelvis started wanting attention again – all it had to do was ask, I’d have taken it out for a coffee or something, there was no need to hurt my poor calf for heaven’s sake! – it was all starting to seem too much.
I didn’t mention in previous posts that all I had to do was finish this race to take out the Athena series because I was ashamed that I had every intention of risking injury, and possibly blowing my Winter Project. It was all a tiring tangle in my head. I really want my WP to work out, but because of all the hoo-ha about getting the Athena category started, I think it’s important to fly the flag and show up to races. And I’d already paid. In addition, I’m still a bit angry about how it all unfolded, so if I could take out the series just by showing up then I was bloody going to. I’m a bling-ho and that’s all there is to it.
Anyway: tired, flat, sore and unenthusiastic, off I went. I used The List to pack so I didn’t forget my bike, anti-fog or nutrition. Nor my wetsuit, which was extremely helpful as it was stupidly cold – the clock on the silo on Punt Road read 8 degrees as I drove past. Do you sometimes think about something you are about to do and sigh at your own bloody-mindedness? *sigh*
The thing about having more body-fat than 95% of the people about you is that they all look much colder than you. Oooh it was hard to take off my shoes and socks to put them into my transition setup! My poor toes, brrr! Crisis #1 struck when I noticed I hadn’t replaced my pump after Noddie ‘helped’ me pump up my tyres the previous night. OK, take off the puncture kit. I flat, I walk. But then I noticed my tyres weren’t as high as they should be – dammit! Off we went to the bike shop marquee to use their floor pump. Crisis #2 – Muggins here had wheeled Minerva out without my helmet, and you can’t get into transition without a helmet! Don’t tell SB, but luckily an official who’d seen me go in earlier was good enough to let me past.
Being a shocking sticky-beak I checked the racks to see how many Athenas would be racing. Just three of us had fronted up, since my poor friend M has had anaemia and was resting – or rather, doing the mini-tri, her version of resting. Then it was (shudder) time to get suited up and down to the swim start. It’s never a good sign when the sand is so cold it makes your feet burn. The water wasn’t as cold as I expected, huzzah! - until I put my face in it – cryogenics, anyone? There was much chatting and gosh-aren’t-we-stupid/brave? among the lunatics who sat shivering in the water cos it was warmer than standing in the wind. Kathy the fast Athena (in the photo in the last post) was there; the poor darl has had a hip injury and wasn’t sure if she could finish the run. She told me after the race that she felt very strongly about the Athena category because she’d had lap-band surgery and knew exactly how hard it was for large women to get into exercise. Fingers crossed her hip recovers completely.
My swim was a disgrace. The tide was pretty far out so there was lots of wading/dolphining involved; it hurt to put my face in the water; I was consumed by a feeling of not-giving-a-rat’s-arse. Then I had to carve through the field, which was tiresome; eventually it occurred to me I wasn’t going to be at all happy with my time and should pull my finger out quicksticks. Wade wade run run puff puff get-this-bastard-wetsuit-OFF! sunnies-helmet-shoes and away we go!
The sun had come up but there was a stiff breeze and my stupid legs stupidly hurt so sooky la-la LBTEPA-evasion tactics had to be applied from the word go. We had three goes into the wind becuase the course was two long thin loops, first heading north from transition, then south back past it and then back again (if you follow me). I concentrated on not complaining, not caring if my legs hurt, and looking forward to the two long tailwind sections. And not thinking about the run! The run is for the run, all you have to do is ride, the run is for the run….. I kept seeing the technical officials and worrying they were going to ping me for something I had no idea about. I do try really hard to move over or drop back when someone passes, but so many people pass me! Pedal pedal pedal…ahhhhh lovely tailwind…thankyou marshall! drink some water eat a gel pedal pedal pedal stop whining just keep your legs going all you have to do is finish now you can walk it in if you flat pedal pedal pedal
T2 was slightly less shite than usual even though I put my socks on. I don't know why, but if I put them on in T1 they always end up wet. I knew I’d want something warm on my feet and I was right. Kathy’s bike wasn’t there (I didn’t know about her flat) so I was a bit concerned and hoped she’d be able to finish. The third woman never showed up at all, which was clever of her.
It wasn’t too cold and we were mostly sheltered from the wind - it was just that my legs had turned to concrete! Ah ha! thought I, you can’t fool me into giving up, I’ve been here before. Just keep going. Keep going. Gosh I’m slow. Why do I bother doing this when I’m so bad at it? STOP that! Head up. Lift your knees. Sing your endless silly song from Playschool that reminds you of Noddie and makes you laugh. Thank the marshals. Drink at the drink stops. Walk the ‘0’ minutes. You know what? This isn’t so bad!
To my relief, my calf was just feeling heavy and tired, not too sore. On and on I trundled. I could see the finish in the distance – it was time to gun it and run hard! Alas, my calf was having none of that - the muscle pulled so hard and painfully I almost stopped dead. Bastard! Don’t you do this to me now! Oh come on, just another 500 metres, that’s all…please? Well f#$% you mate, I’m running anyway and hoppity-skipped, limped and finally trundled my way to the finish.
The first aid tent bloke was lovely and taped some ice on my leg so I could walk around dripping and looking totally hardcore LOL.
I was very glad to see Kathy at the presentations – even with the flat tyre she was only two minutes behind me! We got talking about how intimidating the whole hard-bodied Orbea-riding tri scene could be; it was then she told me about her surgery and all the changes she’d made to her life. I was disgusted to hear that she had not got one single medal for any of her races even though she’d placed every time – not only had she never been on the podium, they’d never even posted her bling to her!! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! It was time for a quick lesson in ‘Pushy’, so I went up to the medal table and made sure the Athenas would be part of the presentations – and even then they gave Kathy third place instead of second! WTF? I also introduced her to the RD, a charming and capable person who I’m sure will sort it out. We did get a nice if slightly bewildered round of applause from the crowd (who are these fat slow chicks and why are they giving them stuff? Or is that my paranoia talking?). As series winner – I can’t get over how funny that is! – I got a bike chain cleaning kit and a $50 voucher to a bike shop, woot! I have sent a donation to the Butterfly Foundation.
I was so happy to get back into the warm car, and to find a parking place near where my friends were meeting up after the Run for the Kids, and to catch up, and have a beer, and to go home.

There is no sensible title for this post

Firstly - did you go to Bold's blog and get a link to the write2fight page?
It's not a pretty sight here at chez LBTEPA. We all have the lurgi to varying degrees, which means that Noddie (getting over it) is being allowed to behave like an absolute feral by the Spousal Unit (just getting it) who then does his nut because she is rampaging around while he wants to lie pathetically on the couch and watch endless annoying crap TV, while I (bravely struggling through, ahem) am grinding my back molars flat calming everything down after returning from the physio - who hurt me whilst thwarting the Return of the Unstable Pelvis (thanks Noddie! NOT!) and has introduced me to the happy world of foam rollers - and the supermarket.
However
since I took first place in Gatorade Race 6 (Athena category), owing to Kathy the fast chick having a flat tyre and it being so cold no-one else was stupid enough to show up
and hence
became the 2007 - 08 Gatorade Series Winner (Athena category) - it just shows that turning up is 90% of the battle, no? - I couldn't care less. Pass the echinacea and the bubbly! And don't ask me to take off the bling.

More anon, pothunters!

'cause it's not always all about me

Go to Bold's blog.
Then go to the site he has founded in memory of his late wife.
Then get one of these and put it in your blog. Using the energy of blogs to help fight cancer is A Very Good Thing, so just go and do it this very minute. Spit spot!

After you've done that, pop over and wish Jeanne good luck in her half-marathon on Saturday, and Kathryn all the best in the Run for the Kids on Sunday. Go on, off you go!

Geez I'm bossy. But it's better than whingeing about how my back is still sore and my calf is still niggly and now Noddie has given me her stupid bug so I feel crappy and I am going to race on Sunday if it kills me, don't you think?

More anon, starfish-flingers!

not the best fun ever

I’m still feeling a bit sore and sorry for myself today. Gosh it was beautiful down near the river near Mum’s place when I went out for my long run last Saturday morning, golden paddocks, shimmering wetlands, a nice breeze through the poplars…everything was superb apart from the fact that I couldn’t get my stupid calf to loosen up.... cue sinister music..... All of a sudden, just as I was about to turn for home..... BLAM! It was as though something had sunk its teeth into me, or stuck its talons into my calf and twisted and refused to let go. Ow ow ow oooooooooooooooh but it was painful, and try as I might I couldn’t get it to release. After a bit of creative cursing - not too much, as I was more shocked than furious - everything had been going along so nicely! - I took stock. It was still warm and sunny with a nice breeze, the paddocks were still golden etc, I had plenty of water and a couple of gels……it was just the 8k of deserted road, no phone and a gait restricted to a hobble that I had to deal with.

Hmmm, I thought…what would Wes do? So I thought myself some positive and uplifting thoughts and got started back. What would Kathryn and Katy do? I didn’t have anything fabulous to change into and couldn’t think of any pithy ways to sum up my predicament, but I did try and see the funny side, such as it was. What would Morsey do? Although it was hard with neither a dog nor a sense of humour (I think I dropped that in the grass beside the road), I kept on moving, trying to run – cos it was going to take a f#$% of a long time if I walked all the way! – and counted those minutes until it was time to walk. Mary Sunshine and SB lent me some of their unimaginably vast reservoirs of endurance and good temper.... just keep going, that’s what it’s all about……and Iron Wil and Iron Misty told me, hey, hurting and being scared and doubtful you can make it is just part of the fun, as long as you don’t let it stop you! Yes, they are kind of weird, but in a good way. Mostly, though, I tried to be like Jeanne. There’s no better friend when you’re moaning and bitching your way home to the icepack and drugs!Just opposite the bluff is where I turned around
Time went on, and so did the road, and the music in my headphones, and the horrid painful gripping in the back of my leg, and then I could see the last corner and the last hill and I was back and it was time to suck down ibuprofen and be Mummy and go to the races and out sailing and suck down more ibuprofen and ice myself with frozen beans because we had eaten all the peas the day before.
It’s been getting slowly better but I went to the physio yesterday because my back was hurting as well, and I DO NOT HAVE A BAD BACK. It turns out it’s all that pesky sacroiliac region faffing about, not doing its job and amusing itself referring pain out around its friends the hamstrings, hips and lower back. A bit of excruciating thumb-digging by the physio and some mildly pornographic stretches to do for a few days and I’ll apparently be good as gold. Just as well, since the last tri of the season is on Sunday and I am already working on Winter Project #1 (official announcement shortly).
More anon, hobblers!

Beans

My left calf is quite painful since the Long Run Of Doom a couple of days ago and I have discovered why people recommend using a bag of frozen peas to ice sore areas. Frozen beans are pointy.

Happy Easter

Easter Blessings to you!We're at Mum's for the long weekend. Take care, and enjoy those HCBs!

Or easter eggs, if you prefer (weirdo)More anon, oologists.

79 = 81

I am aware that this post makes me appear a complete half-back flanker, but there you go.....
So there I was, standing at the counter in the photo shop when my phone rang. It was the lovely and endlessly patient department secretary with my long-anticipated thesis mark. Congratulations! Your thesis mark was 79, which gives you an overall mark for fourth year of 81. Well done!
I was speechless. 79? Seventy-nine? You f#$% me around all year with supervisors buggering off and other supervisors giving away our subjects to their masters students so I had no hope of significant results and you take four months to sort out my ethics application so I have three months instead of seven to get twelve thousand half-decent words down, and you take three months to mark it, and you can't even choke out one more mark so I can have an HD? Spitting chips doesn't even begin to describe my reaction. Ropeable, livid? Pretty much spot on. Then I got all moany and poor me and it's not fair about how well I could have done had I had the aforementioned seven months. I didn't know what to think so I wandered about the shopping centre for a while, scowling horribly, and bought J a present. Luckily it's hot cross bun season - I only eat them in the two weeks before Easter otherwise I would be like the side of a house, I love them so - so some warm buttery goodness, and a couple of kind phone calls from my lovely lovely friends were just what it took to help me calm the heck down and cheer the heck up. HUGE mwah mwah mwah and hugs to M and A, you girls are the BEST! This isn't pretty, but I have to confess it didn't take me long to move from self-pity to self-congratulation - the official position on my fourth year thesis is now something along the lines of no subjects? No supervisor? Three months instead of seven? That the best you can do? Bring It On, baby - and I'll still get 79, so there! *blows raspberry*
So now what? The Spousal Unit - who has just been promoted at work - CONGRATULATIONS YOU BIG SPUNK!!! - and I have celebrated with Indian takeaway and bubbles. Ooooh I know- last of the high-steppers, that's us! I'll apply for entry into Masters in Clinical Psychology in October and find out in November where I'm going next year. I hope 81 is enough to get back into LaTrobe (plan A - just down the road, and with a very highly-regarded CBT-based program), cause it's all I've got. It'll certainly get me into RMIT (plan B, a little bit further down the road and also CBT-based but mostly child psych, eww).
So that's that. Now it's time to get off my lardy behind and out on my bike before I pick Noddie up from kinder. You have a lovely day :)
More anon, toilers!

Why Dreaming Big is Good For You

*Yawns*
Stretches, tries to remember what being a hard-arse early-rising tri-machine (ROFL) was like. Fails.
You know, it could easily have turned out quite differently. My highest duties are as wife and mother, and I am paid to go to work. I could have set my sights on the Olympic tri, and worked hard, and something could have come up that made it 'not the right time'. I would have had to suck it up, and think about the Next Plan.
But nothing came up. It was the right time. I did face the fears and do the work and it all worked out superbly on the day.
Now I feel taller. I smile all the time and walk with a certain inner strut. I own a Wonder Woman t-shirt and now I wear it. I've started working on my next Next Plan (of which more anon) and I already know I can do it if I keep working. This will almost certainly change - I don't think one success eradicates the bleat gene! - but just at the moment I can do anything, with awesome shoes and perfect lipstick.
That, my dear friends, is why you should Dream Big. You can't always pull it off, but when you do, it's the Best Feeling Evah!

Moving to non-messianic mode, we've had a lovely weekend. J and I went to a wedding on Saturday and Noddie had a sleepover at Nanny and Pa's place = Mummy and Daddy sleep in until 8.30! Last night we piled along to the park for an Easter picnic orgnaised by J's work. Great fun. I am SUPPOSED to hear my thesis mark from uni today but am not holding my breath. Hmph.

More anon, my treasures :)

LATE UPDATE: I have received my thesis mark and therefore my final Honours mark. I am in the peculiar position of feeing simultaneously extremely pleased and absolutely ropeable.

Race report: Bairnsdale Olympic distance

WARNING: THIS POST IS VERY VERY LONG.
IT CONTAINS MUCH SWEARING.
ALL SONGS ARE TO THE TUNE OF ‘ALLOUETTE’.

Just FYI: Nutrition Plan (all hail the mighty nutrition plan!)
5.30am - Muesli
7.30-8.00 Powerbar
T1 and T2: big slug of Gatorade
Bike: gel every 40 minutes (changed to 30 in 2nd loop to fit in with terrain). Complete bottle of water each loop.
Run: half bag of sports beans at first water station, rest if wanted. Spare gel in pocket.

You know the best way to halve your pre-race nerves? Get up AN HOUR LATER THAN YOU PLANNED! That way you only have half the time to stress out, and have to use some of that to rethink your Nutrition Plan, cause 5.30am muesli is so not going to work at 6.45. After a banana and a piece of raisin toast I sequed smoothly back to the original Plan. Phew! Seriously, I was freaked out. No time for even one cup of tea, nor, well, how can I put this? Let’s just say it was good the portaloo lines were short. Both times. My parents live about 500m from the start so Minerva and I coasted down the hill to transition in the quiet foggy morning. I had a couple of extra things to think about because it was a longer race, with hills: specifically, when to put my gloves on; puncture kit or not; and how to make sure I didn’t forget my T1 drinks. I ended up sticking the drink in my helmet and my gloves in my bento box; I went without the puncture kit because we had flash-o seatpost bike numbers and they didn’t both fit. I had to throw something into the lap of the tri gods and that was it. It was still quite dark and cloudy and I was feeling pretty lonely and – ok, ok, yes – a bit scared, ok, f#$%ing terrified. I sat propped against post to chew my suddenly-a-bit-difficult-to-swallow energy bar and watch for the family coming down the hill - if they made it to the start - I’d bolted out the door so fast to get to transition before it closed that we hadn’t worked anything out. How happy I was to see them! Kisses and cuddles all round were just the thing *beams in recollection*
True confession: before we set off to the start I spoke to the timing blokes and made them promise they wouldn’t pack up before I finished. Sad.
I’ve run the river track to the swim start many times, but it was so strange to be ambling along in my wetsuit and sandals. People were saying how cold the water was so I was pleasantly surprised when I climbed down the rocky embankment and slid in. Being in water always makes me feel peaceful and happy, so by the time it was our turn to go I’d Shut my buzzing neuroses The F#$% Up and was back inside my own head again at last. Whatever happened, I’d done all I could to prepare. It was showtime!
Swimming down a sluggish brown river under a pale sky and calm beautiful trees is on my ‘I hope they have this in heaven’ list.

I just motored along, long and strong, enjoying myself. When the bridge near the finish came in sight I started thinking about transition and what I would do…drink, sunnies, helmet, number, socks, shoes….. drink, sunnies, helmet, number, socks, shoes…..being whacked in the face made me really angry! It probably meant I was out and running faster than normal (not that you’d know)...drink, sunnies, helmet, number, socks, shoes and OFF WE GO!Being a bit familiar with the bike course helped me work out where I should put my gloves on. And don’t say ‘on your hands’, smartarse! Not the highway, not the roundabout, not the gravel. That left the flat bit near the church. Done. It was time to climb.
Huffing and puffing up a long grade like that makes me tired so I kept my breathing as slow and even as I could. *Sings: Just relax now, just relax now, just relax now, that’s a good girl. Again it was good I knew the course because it’s a bit deceitful. There are three shorter get-thee-into-bottom-gear-and-grind inclines after the first long straight one, but because I was expecting them they pissed me off instead of making me sad. *I’m a legend, I’m a F#$%ing legend, I’m a legend, riding up a hill. Don’t look at the top, just keep going. Don’t wobble, there are cars. Just keep going til the next reflector. Just keep going, that’s the way....
The last corner on the hill is so steep it almost makes you laugh in a ‘you must be f#$%ing joking’ way – it looks as though you’re ‘there’ at the highway turnoff, but then you have to get out of the saddle and attack a nasty little 100m rise before the swooping undulations of the next 8km. *I’m a legend, I’m a F#$%ing legend, I’m a legend, riding up a hill. Tell the marshal I’ll see him in an hour and off we go. I always try and thank race marshals, especially in a race like this where they are out there by themselves for ages waiting for the back-of-the-packers. It was also a gauge of how much I was struggling. If I was getting too stressed or too tired to forget common politeness, then the whole point of the day – to enjoy myself – was lost.
Only the first five elites lapped me which pleased me immensely! The last downhill into town is absolutely brilliant; a pity about the right-hand turn onto a main road at the bottom, oh well. Tip for young players: don’t make your Olympic distance the first time you open and scoff a foil pack of strawberry-banana chemical sludge on the fly. Two weeks ago on my ride to Whittlesea I thought practising gel-eating was a bit of a waste of time, but on race day by crikey I was pleased I had the knack. Zoom zoom zoom through the flash new estate, (thankyou marshal! See you in an hour!), not far to go into town. Only what the race director described as a ‘pinch hill’ and what I described as a ‘bitch pig (or was it pig bitch?) hill’to go. Out of my saddle again? F#$%ing f#%$ers! Whose idea was this? Wave at the Spousal Unit and Noddie and around we go again
No one was more surprised than I that I didn’t have to get off my bike halfway up the second climb and weep bitter tears. It seems the 2.5kg of missing lard and 380km of TITS (Time In The Saddle, you disgusting creatures!) since Christmas has made a difference. Another 20 minutes of sweating, swearing and baring my teeth*I’m a legend, I’m a F#$%ing legend, I’m a legend, riding up a hill. I could see a tiny red figure at the top, waving and cheering. My Mum was up there waiting for me! Thanks Mum! Not long after this the Tall Old Bloke (TOB) passed me for the first time so I knew I was last. I wasn’t, actually – there was another, even older bloke who had mechanical trouble, of whose existence I was unaware. TOB was on a very nice looking bike but it didn’t stop him getting lost twice! He was obviously faster at 68 than I will ever be, but I don’t think it’s too harsh to point out that that obeying the marshals – or even noticing the marshals – is an essential race skill. The pinch/pigbitch #$%^#$% hill came around again, as they do, but I was fired up now and swore at it – stick to what you’re good at, no? – until I was on the flat again. Time to get my gloves off and think about T2.
This was the time I felt worst about being so slow. People were running to the finish line; even faster people were obviously waiting for us to start the run so they could get their stuff. The marshals and officials looked sorry for me. F#$% ‘em. They took my money. They could WAIT. I had checked out the course so I knew ‘that awful hill’ was actually a set of steep stairs - an extra walk break! – so I wasn’t scared, especially since someone had swapped my legs for some that felt strong and co-ordinated. Yay! That morning Noddie had insisted she was going to run with me to 'help me' (now everyone say ‘awwwwww’). As I passed her I could see that the Spousal Unit had tried to get her to run with me, towards him, but that she didn’t quite understand and was just standing still. This whole day was about all of us, not just me, so I went back and got her. Even now I get blinky thinking about her little face lighting up as she took my hand and we ran together to Daddy for sweaty kisses and hugs. Off up the road I went. I’m a legend, I’m a F#$%ing legend, I’m a legend, running up the hill. Nine minutes run, one minute walk. Whose legs were these? I hoped they’d let me keep them. It was getting a bit warm as TOB caught up to me (again) just as we reached the stairs. He was a lot more cheerful about getting repeatedly lost than I would have been! On we trotted. I’m a legend, I’m a F#$%ing legend, I’m a legend, running all the way. We were both a bit upset to find that the water stations were not every 2km as we had been led to believe. It might not have made much difference to the fast people but when you’re still running at noon there’s a big difference between water at 2,4,6 and 8km and 2,5,8 and 9! It seemed to affect TOB more than it did me, probably thanks to the two whole bottles on the bike. Thankyou Nutrition Plan! All hail the mighty Nutrition Plan! Where’s our water, where’s our f#$%ing water, where’s our water, you f#$%ing p#$%s? I tried not to sing that too often because I was mostly in a pretty good mood, running my intervals and singing to myself about what a legend I was. 5km to go! I can do 5km at 5am with a hangover! I am so finishing this bastard, yes I am! The run course was very pretty and mostly along trails, such a treat for my footpath-hammered feet. By the end of the shadeless stretch along the river bank, though, I was pretty angry watching poor TOB up ahead of me trying to run a bit and then having to walk. Especially since there had been a drink station set up at the swim start, which they’d obviously packed up. Where’s our water, where’s our f#$%ing water, where's our water you f#$%ing p#$%s? The last 2km of the run would have broken my heart if I hadn't been expecting it. They ran us past the finish line and up the steep-as-the-stairs track to the road past my parents’ house, then around the block to the finish. Transition was mostly empty and TOB had stopped at the 8km drink station and seemed to have given up (although he did finish) but I was really focused doing all my darling family proud by finishing strongly. When a man at the 9km drink station commented that I was ‘doing it hard’ I snapped, no, mate, I’m doing it slow, and I kept running. Past the cow paddocks, up the nowhere-as-big-as-the-hill-near-my-house-that-I’ve-run-up- three-times-a-week-for-the-last-month, over the top – hi Mum! Thanks for running with me! It really did help! You ROCK! - around the corner and down the hill to the chute and I was finished. All I had to do then was walk back up the hill again (nooooo!), eat fish and chips (my wonderful Sherpas' richly-deserved favourite lunch) , and smile at how blessed I am.I'm still smiling.

NOTE: When I emailed the RD about the water he acknowledged that they had stuffed up and was very apologetic.

Through the wall*

167 232 LBTEPA Olympic F 40-44 3 S 25:52 T1 02:16.7 B 1:49:33.2 T2 02:09.6 R 1:18:33.4 3:38:25.7

Somehow I must always remember how good this feels.There’s a permanent FIGJAM grin on my face and I feel lighter than air – I did it!
I did all the work – day after day I went through that too-busy too-tired wall that was really called your dreams aren’t worth chasing after. I did all the planning and scheduling and fitting-in-with-the-family and one-less-piece-of-pizza. I gave the finger to the fear and the shame of being too fat and too slow and the you don’t belong here, everyone will laugh at you thoughts. After sitting through the carbo dinner with all those 43 minute-10km single-digit body-fat triathlon machines I wanted to cry, but I went home and packed my race bag and checked my elastic laces and made sure everything was ready. Next morning I went down and set up my stuff and I really wanted to run away, but I walked to the start through that wall of body image issues THAT WERE ALL IN MY HEAD and I started to swim. And I NAILED my nutrition plan - all hail the mighty Nutrition Plan! -and I kept on going and going and going until it was time to stop. Just the way I'd imagined.

I did it.
I did it.
Unbelievable.

*grin*

More anon, comrades. Race report on its way.
*I know my good friend Iron Wil won't mind me pinching her tagline.

F.U.S.

I don't know, turn my back for a second and everything goes to wrack and ruin - Cheerful LBTEPA here, back to take over from that tiresome Sooky La-la LBTEPA. Many, many thanks for your encouraging words to her. She has been sent out the back with a can of HTFU and a spoon.
F.U.S. does not stand for F#$% U, Spousal unit (although it could, given that we have just had a fearful blue - loyalty prevents me from divulging the details; we have sorted it out now).
It stands for my plan for this weekend's triathlon:

Finish,
Upright and
Smiling.

One of my Best Plans Ever, I think! There's a much longer post about why I am doing this and how I talked myself out of talking myself out of it during my run this morning - OMG how good do your legs feel at the end of tapering? Why wasn't I told? - swirling around in my head, but I must continue flinging random articles into bags so I can pick Noddie up and head east before the long weekend traffic goes nuts. I do have a list, but when I tipped everything out of the too-small bag into the far-too-large bag I found seven tee-shirts. Tizzy, anyone?

More anon, lovelies :)

Not scared of the bike leg any more

...because I've just looked carefully at the RUN course of my first Olympic triathlon this Sunday. I have one thing to say about this:
F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%!
That'll teach me to read the course description rather than expanding the blurry aerial photo map 250% and studying it with a magnifying glass. Ignoring the word 'challenging' was clearly another crucial error. Mum's startled 'Oh! I didn't realise you were going up that awful hill!' (she lives nearby) didn't help either. And it's going to be hot.
Excuse me while I go and process some blind hyperventilating terror for a couple of hours.
F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%
Fear not, Wes and Benson - positive thinking and problem-solving strategies are scheduled for later this evening. Just have to sweat with fear and whack myself with the What. Were. You. Thinking? bat for a while.
And I was just starting to feel a bit rested and a tiny bit confident....
F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%F#$%!

More anon, quiverers!

Acronyms R Us

My friends, my dear friends...comrades, pals, companions in life's vicissitudes...
I have a confession to make. I have been lying to you.
You have had race reports and smiling photos and funny freak-outs and peptalks to others, but underneath all that, I'm feeling lost. Life seems a bit disconnected and directionless, and as though things are spinning around and around me and flying away faster than I can catch them.
I just gave the biggest sigh as I wrote that. Putting it down has made me feel a bit better.
It doesn't make sense to feel like that - I'm training hard and regularly, eating (fairly) well and maintaining my detente with the Demon Drink. Pretty tired from 5.15am starts, but all set to taper for the Olympic Tri next week !!!!(excuse me for a moment while I FREAK OUT!!!!) and then get started on my big mid-year project. Physically I feel strong, although sleep deprived thanks to that matricidal spawn of satan, I mean poor Noddie, sleeping very badly (= Mummy up at least twice every night) for the last week. Noddie and the Spousal Unit are their lovely selves; work is as ok as it ever is. I don't know what's wrong. I could be a stranded alien, or a pod-person who's just realised it, or I could be irritable because we haven't really settled into a routine this year....or I could just be naturally cranky. I don't really care. In keeping with my devoutly-held belief that if you have a plan you can change it, while no plan = you keep drifting, The Plan Is This:
The Chart Is Back!
Don't pout like that and say is that the best you can do? This is my mini-crisis! It's all about me here!
Last year my charts reminded me to do what I wanted to do in the midst of what I had to do. I let them go during the thesis-finish craziness and the lovely summer holidays because there are times when structure and goals aren't the be-all and end-all (claps hand to mouth - did I just say that?).
That time is OVER. This year my chart will remind me that I don't have to feel aimless.
Headings include the usual - Training, Stretching/Core, Friends - but also two new ones, EWD and DWD - Eat Wisely Day and Drink Wisely Day. The number of nights I've gone to bed and sighed sadly, that was stupid, better try harder tomorrow is creeping up, and I don't need any extra ammunition to criticise myself, I can assure you. Wise is a flexible word - sometimes it's wise to eat tuna salad and drink water, sometimes pizza and red wine are the thing. It's a non-judgemental word too, which suits the mood I'm in.
Hey ho and away we go, eh? Bring on the red pen and some boxes to cross off.

More anon, sages!

Race report - Big Bay Swim

Shock announcement: LBTEPA secretly relieved swim course changed for safety reasons!
In a stunning develoment, sources close to our heroine reveal she was secretly very relieved that the 3.5km open water course was changed to a far more sheltered 2.5km course following predictions of high winds including 30 knot gusts. It's not that I couldn't do it, LBTEPa told close friends, it's that I have to run tomorrow and I really don't need an epic tough-it-out-a-thon just at this point.
Even so, our heroine spent the morning leading up to the event murmuring to herself I do this for fun you know, over and over again, in the vain hope it would sink in and her stomach would stop churning. An unfamiliar starting point, confounded by 100000000000 Summer Cycle participants blocking the roads, added to her nerves, as did the crowd of lean mean aquatic machines milling about talking airily of the Bloody Big Swim, Busselton, etc etc. The wind-whipped trees and whitecaps on the channel added atmosphere, but not in a good way. LBTEPA would like to point out that this photo is in no way a true representation of the grey, gritty, chilly conditions (do you like her new haircut? She's undecided. It will grow out). Swimmers teetered down the boat ramp into the warm(ish, well, not icy) murky bay and trod water as they listened to yet another safety briefing. Observers reported LBTEPA as smiling excitedly, just before having her goggles knocked off (for the first time..grrrr) by other over-enthusiastic competitors. It was difficult to find a place in the field as so many slower swimmers were ahead at the start, and so many stronger swimmers were utterly sighting-impaired, completing a significantly longer distance at a significantly faster pace than the back-'o-the-pack swimmers, yet still impeding the BOPers with their torturous wending.
The middle portion of the event was described by LBTEPA as 'an absolute cow' - swimming with chop at the start of a race is pretty normal, swimming in swell is all right because you can get a kind of rhythm going, but swimming perpendicular to chop is just stupid! Also described as 'stupid' (among other things) by LBTEPA was the utterly pointless biffo from the hardcore (i.e. wetsuit-free) old blokes in the last third of the race. As our intrepid correspondent pointed out, it's not as though they were swimming for sheep stations. Knocking my goggles off achieved....what? These bloody minded old codgers got up our heroine's nose for a while until she realised the swim would be finished soon so she'd better just bloody well enjoy the crap out of it while she still had the chance (apologies for LBTEPA's tiredness Tourette's. We will smack her hand). Blue(ish) skies, open water - a treat, and a blessing to have the opportunity. It could well have been ok to have swum the originally-planned course. However, as LBTEPA said after the race, if it had been as bad as forecast the swimmers would have been all right, but we also need to consider the life guards who provide such sterling safety support to the event. It wasn't the full-on adventurous swim we'd all looked forward to, she said, but these things happen. LBTEPA would like to thank her parents for carting her around to ocean swims throughout her teens so that this was a challenging-but-normal rather than are-you-out-of-your-mind-you-lunatic? Sunday morning activity, the ever-spunky Spousal Unit and the sadly very off-colour Noddie (the reason for LBTEPA's solo appearance this a.m.), and her supportive fans.

More anon, conquerers of the waves!
LBTEPA (now sleeping heavily) would like to assure readers that no jellyfish were harmed, or even sighted (yay!) during the making of this feature.

FREAK OUT! And fake it until the champagne arrives

16 days until the Bairnsdale tri. Swim 1500, ride 40km UP ENORMOUS HILLS, run 10km Medic! Oxygen here, stat! LBTEPA appears to have fainted! Minus 5 days for taper…that’s 11 days to get trained and get planned and get ready and I’m doing the Port Melbourne-Williamstown swim on Sunday, so there’s a long ride day sacrificed for chop and swell and jellyfish and 19 f#$%ing degrees and rain!! What was I thinking? What am I thinking? I’m FREAKING OUT, that’s what! Aaaaahhhh! ...breathes in…breathes out…. Must. Make. Lists….. lists will save me! Oh, and denial. Olympic distance? What Olympic distance?

This is a bit of a heard-it-all-before half-arsed self-help-book rant, and I'm sorry about that, but it's been rattling around in my noggin for a few days now; it seemed important to let it out. When I showed my friend S the podium photo from Elwood last weekend, her comment really stuck in my mind.

Geez, if you’re the big girls, the others must be tiny! There’s nothing wrong with you three!

This is true. There is nothing wrong with the shape of my body. And I know it. I want to lose some weight, certainly, but not because my current weight is 'wrong' - it is what it is. It’s taken a long time, but I do know it. My friend M (about my height, a fair bit more slender) doesn’t. It made me so sad when she watched the 20-25 year olds on the podium and said Look at them. They can’t weigh more than 45 kilos. Her boyfriend G commented mildly that if she weighed 45kg we’d have to take her to hospital, but she didn’t smile.
Hey you! Yes you! You know who you are - making yourself miserable comparing yourself to other people. Faster people, lighter people, younger people. Stop it! Or at least, decide to do it less today than you did yesterday. You are perfectly fine the way you are!
No I’m not, you reply, I eat/drink/do/don’t……
Yes. You. Are. You’re living your best life, with what you have, where you are (mangling one of my favourite quotes, thanks Eleanor).
Listen to what you say to yourself. Would you take it from anyone else? Would you let someone say it to your child? I must say having Noddie has helped me with smacking down my self-critical voice - I am always extremely careful never to comment negatively on my - or anyone's - weight or appearance in her presence.
Suprisingly, though, saying those I wish I wasn’t so hideously ugly and badly dressed and socially inept and boring so I could have some friends things out loud to J before I go out actually removes their power somehow*. Out in the light they are revealed for what they are – old voices from forever ago, and sad bleating for reassurance. Sometimes they’re PMS talking, but I can recognise those sneaky bastards now and smack them down too. I don't have to listen to them any more. I can reassure my own self now. I’m strong and brave and I can hold my head up anywhere - or at least fake it until the champagne arrives!
The magnificent Nancy linked to this – I think we should all sign it, or make one of our own.

Must go and FREAK OUT again now! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Sixteen, I mean eleven days!!!

More anon, biters-off of more than you can chew!
*He usually just looks faintly surprised and says Oh.

I don't want to miss a thing

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you’re far away dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing

Lying close to you feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes
And thank God we're together
I just want to stay with you in this moment forever
Forever and ever

Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing

I dont want to miss one smile, I don't want to miss one kiss
I just want to be with you, right here with you, just like this
I just want to hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine
And just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time

Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing ....

It's always been our song.
Happy anniversary sweetheart. Eight down, sixty-two to go!

Race Report - Gatorade Elwood

RACE: Gatorade Race 5 Elwood
DISTANCE: 600/20/6
TIME: 1.42.44
RATING: EXTREMELY PLEASED
What to say, what to say? I used The List* for all my packing and planning the night before, I had everything I needed for my nutrition plan and executed it perfectly so I felt strong and confident all the way. After a fast swim (apart from the jelly fish sting to the face! Bastard!) and a pretty good bike leg – I could see my friend M only a km behind so I was riding scared, I can tell you - my run was a surprise. It wasn't too hot - starting in the fourth wave has its advantages after all - and I was singing the Playschool song that my mantra (strong and smooth and run run run) comes from and pretty much in my happy(ish) place most of the way. I stuck to my 9:1 run:walk intervals - and every single walk break a lean mean tri machine zooming past reached out and patted me on the shoulder with encouraging words. It was so lovely to be reminded that most triathletes are supportive and helpful. Strangely I had no urge to justify or explain myself to them. Maybe I’m getting all well adjusted? There was nothing left in the tank for a sprint at the end but I managed to do a raised-arm Wes-esque finish. I still have the most shite T2 in the universe, oh well, but the run was 15s/km faster than Portarlington two weeks ago. Woot!
After I gulped down five cups of water I went to the first aid tent to get some help with my stung face (did you know they don't use vinegar now? Just warm water) and to look for M because we couldn't find her and she hadn't been feeling well. My hands started to shake and shake and I had to sit down but I soon felt better.
The winning Athena – henceforth known as Carbon Fibre Chick as her bike was fully sick featherlight carbon, Zipp wheels and everything (now everybody say ‘oooooooooooh!’) – was terrific at the presentations. As usual they didn’t present the Athena category; the announcer was about to wrap things up when CFC grabbed me and the other Athena, marched up to the announcer and demanded we be given our medals, on the podium thankyou very much. They faffed on about the final results not being available etc etc but were powerless in the face of her implacable determination. I got third because the fifth Athena (does that sound like a movie?) was a DNS, but you’ve gotta show up to score as I always say. But that's a different movie altogether
I didn’t tell Noddie and J about my medal because I wanted to surprise them when I got home – and look what they surprised me with!

The newbie didn’t show when she said she would so we didn’t catch up, but she did come down and have a look and we talked on the phone after the race. I hope she felt ok because it’s a massive day and easy to be intimidated by two and a half thousand competitors and all the brawn and toys and smack talk – but there’s enough room for everyone.

More anon, sleepyheads...zzzzzzz....
* Let me know if you want a copy and if you sign a code of secrecy I'll email you one

HVD2U

Happy Valentine's Day for yesterday to you all.
We don't do much Valentine stuff because it falls in between my birthday and our wedding anniversary next week, but we did plan to get Noddie settled early and watch a Fred and Ginger movie. This was scuppered by Noddie announcing that she was going to sleep outside in her tent and would we put it up for her as she'd already built a campfire. Now, while I have every respect for Noddie's capabilities, I confess I was nonplussed by this statement until I was led out to inspect and admire a small pile of leaves.
Who am I to squelch such a spirit of adventure?
So I sat out on the verandah with my book, responding appropriately to the piping calls of my offspring
I'm very brave you know
You don't have to check on me 'cause I'm not scared
Are you still there Mummy?
You don't have to check on me 'cause I'm in my tent with Teddy and we're very brave
etc etc etc
until she declared that it was getting a bit dark and she was going to sleep in her own bed. By then it was too late to start a movie, but we made some nachos and ate some birthday chocolate and declared the evening a success.
It's been a stupid training week. I have not got up early enough often enough, lunchtime swims didn't happen 'cause tiresome people keep ringing me up and emailing me, the nerve.... and after work never works. I don't know why I think it will. J and Noddie would be perfectly fine but it seems mean to just prance in the door and then sail blithely out again when both of them are tired and we haven't seen each other all day. Priorities, you see. I just have to Suck It Up and Get Up, especially since J starts at a new store soon and his shifts will be changing, not in a way that suits me. My friend IronWil has a saying for these times
Get Up. It sucks, then it doesn't
Go and train. It sucks, then it doesn't.
Always.
As usual she is spot on - and she gets up way earlier than I'll have to! I just have to remember that I always feel worse if I don't get up than if I do.
In other news - I lost 1.5 kg and 12 cm in January. Woot.
The fabulous Iron GeekGirl's charming husband SB (is this sounding like a translation exercise?) mentors an online beginner triathlon group. One of the group lives in Melbourne and is planning the last Gatorade tri as her maiden event. SB recalled that I too reside in that great metropolis, and now, thanks to the wonders of the internet, we (the beginner - heck, why not just call her Maree? since that's her name - and I) will be meeting on Sunday morning so she can have a squiz at how a big triathlon works. Meeting in Elwood, with some help from New Mexico! How cool is that?

More anon, true romantics

Sorry

Noddie, tomorrow before kinder we are going to uni to see an important day in history.
What's history, Mummy?
History is when something very important happens that no-one will ever forget. And we'll never forget we saw this day either.
What history is happening tomorrow?
Kevin Rudd is going to apologise to the Aboriginal people. We're going to watch him on a big movie screen with lots of other people.
What's apologise?
He's going to say sorry.
Why is he sorry?
He's sorry because of all the bad things that the Government did to the Aboriginal people in the past.
What bad things?
Just really really bad things that were wrong and shouldn't have happened (you think I'm going to explain the stolen generations to a four year old?
Did Kevin Rudd do the bad things?
No. But you know when we have a fight or something bad happens and everyone says sorry and we all start to feel a bit better and can start to make things better?
Yes....
Well, when Prime Minister Rudd says sorry to the Aboriginal people for all the terrible things that the Government did in the past, we can start to fix things.
Oh. Do I have to be quiet all the time when we're watching the apology?
*Later*
Daddy! Tomorrow we're going to watch Kevin Rudd say sorry so we can all start to fix things! And I'm never going to forget!

There haven't been many times in the last decade when I've felt proud to be Australian. This is a great thing. Today is a great day.

What more could a girl want?

Breakfast in bed, a bike computer, a new sports bag and Shauna's book! Perfect weather, family, friends, and cake. And best of all, those fine blogging women Kathryn and Sara came along and proved to the Spousal Unit that they aren't imaginary!