Wednesday, July 15, 2009

If at first you don't [or do] succeed...

Tri, tri again. Last year I suffered through a highly-overrated regimented training process for the SHEROX "Sprint" {800 m swim/13 mi bike/5K--like anybody sprints that} Triathlon in Tempe. This year, not too much! I was surprised that I even finished the race. But I managed. I hollered at Megan so much during the run that she finally waited for me and we crossed the finish line together. That was the fantasy that I'd had in my head. To finish with one of my sisters.

Disclaimer: Megan had a head start on me because they started her heat (age 35-39) before mine (the awesome 40-45 year old heat). She kicked my bootay in the bike, though.

This tri was way more fun--(if sweating yourself to oblivion can be considered "fun"). Maybe because I had my two sisters [Megan and Susan] and SIL Maren along for the gig. Maybe because I had such low expectations? Maybe because I had nothing to prove this time. Maybe because I knew what to expect since this was my 2nd tri.


Nobody looks good in a swim cap. No one. Ever.


Some things I had to think about to keep me from repeating last year's panic attack(s) in the water: the Kentucky Derby, for one. [was anyone else inspired at how the underdog $7,000 horse with a hick of an owner beat the million dollar thoroughbreds owned by all the Saudis?] I also kept thinking about how I really shouldn't even be here because I hadn't trained very much, and how lucky I felt to be with my sisters and how proud I was of my sisters and then I got a little choked up and had to get it together and then I thought about my rhythm of strokes and breathing, and so on, so on. I even managed to notice the blueness of the sky and the airplanes overhead during my breaths. This was my stream of conscienceness. The water was nastily fetid.

{the woman above swimming on her back deserves some kudos--I did my fair share of breast stroke to catch my breath. Swimming in Tempe Town Lake takes some grit.}





I'm pretty sure my "twin" subsequently filed a restraining order against McDon'tEvenKnowWhoMyWifeIs for taking 300 close-up shots of her.



Megan and her kids, Deven and Jeffrey. (above)

Over. Till next year?



Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Pecadillos

A Preface: My kids wanted to be on the swim team this year.

Caroline, [age 8], was to be in the 4:45 pm swim team practice slot for 7-8 year olds. Jackson, [age 10], was to be in the 5:30 pm practice slot for 9-10 year olds.

Wouldn't it be swell if I could just get them both in the 5:30pm practice slot so I could just make one trip to the pool every single day?

Yes it would be swell.


Me: "I'd like to enroll my kids in afternoon swim team, please."


Municipal worker at city HQ: "What are their ages?"


Me: "I'd like to enroll them both in the 9-10 year olds time slot."
(not a lie).


Muni lady: "When are their birthdays?"


Remedial math. Do it. Quickly. What would her birthday have to be to make her nine years old? Subtract or add a year to her actual birthdate?? 

{The blank stare of a dairy cow}.


Me: "11/22/99 and 04/20/99."


Muni lady: "They were both born in the same year?"

[Hoover Dam(n)].

I guess I added when I should have subtracted or subtracted when I should have added?! Why did I have to get the astute lady?

"Jackson is a foster child," I heard myself say.

What?!!  Abort!! ABORT!!


Muni lady (warily): "OK then, sign here and it'll be $110.00"


And just like that, I had relegated my pride-and-joy-firstborn-and-only-son to a foster child just to save a ten minute drive to and from the pool every day.


[Factoid]:  I loathe begging forgiveness from astute municipal worker ladies.

The next day when I went back in to clear my conscience, she threw me the exaggerated eye roll and did not go for my desperately-trying-to-be-humorous apology.

Apparently lying to (I prefer the term "misleading") the City of Gilbert is a grievous matter, because she then asked to see birth certificates, which luckily I had hauled in with me to prove the actual and factual birthdates of my children, who just want to swim on the dad blasted swim team!

I suppose it serves me right.


[Post edit]:  I got them both in the 9-10 year old time slot anyways simply by asking the coaches at swim practice if they could be together.

McNeverTellALie was amused.

As he usually is.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Second Favorite Holiday (after Thanksgiving)











(charlotte and grandpa tobler)

(charlotte and grandpa hoopes)