REALLY "TRI" ING


are floaties allowed?

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

I thought my blogging days were over.  But today was just too much.

Went out for a bike ride.  (Sidebar:  I am still biking.  And, believe it or not, I am still swimming.  Yes, dear 16 followers and 2 lurkers, I am thinking about doing another triathlon.  I know, I know....crazy, right??  See, the thing is, I have the Zoot suit.  The precious, precious Zoot suit.  I feel I absolutely must wear it one more time.   And where else can I wear it but another triathlon?  I can't exactly throw that thing on and go to the library or the grocery store. Plus, I figure I've worked this hard to get in some sort of shape I might as well take advantage and rack up another tri-shirt.  Maybe it will even be pink again.  There are several factors holding me back, however.  First and foremost, the swim is a half mile.  Which is exactly double the Stone Harbor distance.  Double.  As in twice as far.  And we all know how I feel about swimming.  Not exactly double the distance double the fun. Secondly, I don't actually have a bike that I could use.  That's a wee bit of a problem.  Thirdly, and probably the biggest obstacle, it turns out that triathlons are not free.  There is a registration fee.  Which is not a small amount.  I mean, I can't scrounge around in the cushions and on the car floor and come up with it.  (Once again, can I just thank Carla and Amy for being so wonderful?  They shielded me from this little fact when they entered me into the SH triathlon).  See, timing is an issue.  I need my hair done.  (Men, bear with me here, you will have no idea what I'm talking about).  Cut, color, maybe some highlights to make me feel better about having hot flashes.  (This is an entirely separate matter that I am absolutely not ready to talk about).  The cost of the triathlon is also the cost of having my hair done.  Hair / triathlon.  Hair / feeling better about myself now vs. triathlon / feeling better about myself later.  Thoughts?)

A few things happened on my bike ride.

Number one:
       I got lost.  Not just I took a little wrong turn and will be back on course if I take the next right lost, but really, really lost.  As in two hour bike ride instead of a half hour bike ride lost.  Now, getting lost is not a new thing for me.  I get lost a lot.  No, I mean a real lot.  Chances are if I go off my street I will get lost.  I have less than zero sense of direction. I can't even begin to count the number of times it has taken me twice as long to get somewhere as it should because I have veered off course so badly.  The good thing is I don't get that panicky lost feeling any more...I know I will get there eventually.   My husband, bless his heart, has tried to instill in me some tiny semblance of a sense of direction.  Where I am in relation to the sun, for example.  If I know where the sun is in relation to me, he says,  I can figure out which way I should be heading.  What he cannot comprehend is that even if I know where I am in relation to the sun I still have no idea if I will need to go north, south, east or west to get to where I am going.  He simply cannot understand this.  And I can't explain it.  Cannot read a map, either.  We love each other.  But we could never, ever go on The Amazing Race together.

Number two:
      I met a falconer.  Ok, he was more a bird-watcher than an actual falconer....there were no hoods or big gloves involved.  He had a tripod, a really big telescope, binoculars and a camera.  I saw this man when I still knew where I was.  Or so I thought.  At least I knew I was still in Simsbury.  Naturally, I stopped to ask him what he was doing.  Any excuse to take a break and this looked like a good one.  He enthusiastically showed me the mommy and daddy falcons through his telescope.  Real falcons!  He pointed out the baby falcon nest.  They were hiding so no baby sightings.  I chatted with the falconer for a bit but given my, shall we say, colorful history with large birds I decided it was best for all if I move on.

Number three:
     I saw a deer who thought it was a dog.  At some point during my ride I was, well, I don't know where I was, but it had fields and hills and rolling meadows.  It was beautiful.  I was also hallucinating from dehydration so maybe it was really a  vast wasteland and I just thought it was beautiful.  I rounded a turn and could see forever.  Off in the distance I saw a dog frolicking through a field.  I am on heightened dog alert because I want another dog.  I think. But maybe not.  Anyway, I find myself drawn to dogs lately.  So I was looking forward to catching up to the dog and maybe petting it.  What kind of dog is that I wondered.  Maybe a border collie, it's running pretty fast.  I bike and bike and finally get closer to the dog.  There is a little row of bushes on the edge of the field.  By the time I reach it the dog is behind the bushes.  I slow down.   The dog peeks his head out.  The dog is a deer.  The deer looks at me. I look at him.  He barks.  I am not kidding.  The deer barked then turned around and galloped back down the field.

Number four:
     The older man I stopped to help tried to pick me up.  Not pick me up like I fell off my bike and he was helping me back up but pick me up as in....you know....pick me up.  I saw an older gentleman a few miles into my bike ride.  It was clear he had been running but he was now limping along the side of the road.  I slowed my bike as I approached him but he waved at me and yelled a hearty hello.  Ok, I guess he's fine.  I biked on.  Ages later, after the falconer, after the deer dog, after the hallucinations, when I was finally back on somewhat familiar terrain yet still far from home I saw the same older gentleman but this time he was limping along the side of the road and holding his hands up for me to stop.  So I stopped.  But he wasn't holding his hands up for me to stop.  He was holding his hands up to take a picture with the cellphone he had in his hands.  He pointed to the clouds and the tops of the trees and how pretty a picture it was.  He introduced himself.  He showed me more pictures he had taken along various runs throughout the country.  He has been running for 30 years.  He asked me where I had just biked.  I told him I couldn't really tell him.  Because I had no idea.  We chatted for a bit more.  He told me all about a nice run he had taken on a recent trip to Cape Cod.   I thought I was having a pleasant little conversation with a nice older gentleman   He asked me if I was married.  Ok, this can still be considered pleasant little chit-chat, right?  Yes, I am married.  Oh, then never mind my next question, he says.  What??  Eeewwww.   Listen, old man, I stopped because I thought you were dying, ok??  Not because I am single and looking for a date and thought what better way to meet someone than to take a two hour bike ride and maybe, just maybe at some point along the way I will meet an eligible older man limping along the side of the road.  I mean, seriously, what the heck??

Oh, dear 16 followers and 2 lurkers, it is so nice to see you again.  I seem to have so many adventures when you are around.

4 comments:

  1. First, I am happy to get a new entry.
    Second, I totally picture this entry being typed while you are Zoot suited.
    Finally, I am labeling your affliction as having a Sense of Misdirection.

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  2. Petra, I am so happy you are back....Oh how I have missed you. I can read your blog and see it all happening and picture you right in front of me telling the stories...it makes me feel closer to you and not miss you so much! And today, well it just made me laugh! Thanks Petra for returning to the blog world....

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  3. Yes, yes, anonymous....that's it! It sounds so much better now. I have an amazing Sense of Misdirection. Thank you!


    Carla!!! I miss you, too!!! So glad I could provide some comic relief for you today!

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  4. meghan from mealsandmiles.com is training for a half ironman tri, you might want to check her out.

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