A little story

Josh is special.  And not just because that's the politically correct label for him.  He's special in so many, many ways.  He's special because he is cheery and positive and strong and happy and funny and optimistic and brave  and... and... and.  On and on.    He is all of those things.  He is all of those things despite the terrible hands he has been dealt...born to a drug addicted mother, locked in a closet when he was young, physically and emotionally abused.  Josh is a fighter.  With the love and support of some pretty amazing adoptive parents, Josh has turned into a  wonderful young man.  And now Josh has cancer.  For the second time.  So he is also a patient in my hospital.  I go up and visit him a lot when he is inpatient.  He is always smiling.  Can you imagine?  Smiling??

Recently Josh was able to go home for a couple of weeks.  He and his mom stopped by to visit my husband and his partner at work.

Maria (hubby's partner):  "hey, Joshie, I didn't know you would be coming by today.  I have a present for you.  I left it at your house, on your front stairs."

Josh:  "Is it Petra?"

I love my life.

2012 Disney's Princess Half Marathon

"This race experience is fit for a princess earning her glass running slippers or a woman who runs her kingdom already. Gather your girlfriends for a magical getaway now, so you can all earn your Princess Half Marathon Tiara Finisher Medal!"




Um, does that say "tiara"????

Humidity is my nemesis.  (Well, besides the pool, lake, ocean or any body of water in which I am forced to swim).  Not so much the heat.  But that humidity gets me every time.  One might think one would be safe from humidity on a run in late September in Connecticut.  Well, one would be very, very wrong.

Let's review. Number one:  I have trouble running when it's humid.  Number two:  It's humid.

Oh, and let's not forget that wee little issue I don't want to talk about.  Rhymes with mot blashes.
I have a problem when I run and lately it's only gotten worse.  Much worse.  I am running and it starts.   It starts as a trickle.  Then quickly turns into a stream.  Pretty soon I am  spurting.  I am a running water fountain. Only it isn't water.

Talk about timing.  In this case, perfect timing.  Look what just arrived in my mailbox:

Two of the cutest headbands ever!  And yes,  that  does say "one hot mess."   How totally, totally appropriate. The great people at bondiband  (http://www.bondiband.com/index.php) sent me these headbands to try.   Here is what they say about their headbands:

Bondi bands are a comfy, colorful and creative way to hold your hair back whether you're riding in a convertible, rushing out the door to get your kids, or getting some exercise.  Bondi Bands are an easy fix for your hair.  Check out our wicking fabric bands; they will absorb and evaporate buckets of sweat.

Of course  I liked them right away because they are so cute.  Obvi.   But would they stand up to their billing as being able to absorb and evaporate buckets of sweat?  One way to find out.

I donned my stylish new headband (yes, of course I had shorts, top, and watch to match).  It was comfy and cute.  Went for a run.  A long run.  It was hot.  Very, very hot.  Started to trickle.  Then spurt. Everywhere......except my head!  Oh, joy.  Joy!   My magical new headband was working!  It stayed comfortably in place the whole time I was running. And it really did what they said it would do.....absorb and evaporate buckets of sweat.  

Now, dear 17 followers and 2 lurkers, do you think it would be weird if I wrapped my entire body in bondibands?  And not just while I'm running?  Forget about taking supplements or eating more soy.  I think I'm on to something here....

Bob Maxon said it would rain later in the day.  So I had to go for a morning run.  I am not a morning run  person.  My body doesn't work yet.  But it was a running day.  (sidebar:  no, I have not signed up for another triathlon.  yet.  but I still think in terms of days:  running day, biking day, swimming day.  Even though I had to give my borrowed bike back.  And even though I both fear and hate the water again and just the thought of jumping into a pool right now makes me cry real tears).  So I laced up and headed out the door by seven.


I chose to run in my neighborhood.  Roads I have run a thousand times before.  Roads I know like the back of my hand.  Regular houses, yards, trees, streets that loop around in circles.  Not Stratton.  Not the forest.  Regular, out in the open roads.

I was on mile three.  Coming up a slight hill.  In between a stretch of houses.  A few more trees here.   Decision time:  straight or left.  Straight it's a little bit longer home, left around that corner...shorter to home but a long, tough hill.  Hmm...which to do, which to do....I guess I will go......
WWWAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!  OMG!OMG!OMG!OMG!    A bear.  A bear.  A BEAR!!!!!!!!!    THERE IS A BEAR.  There is a bear RIGHT THERE where I turn left.  A gigantic, real,  live  black bear.   If I take one  step closer  I will be in an actual  bear hug.  My brain is spinning.  I am freaking out.  I realize I am running.  I am running two steps away from a bear.  Some deep-rooted, subconscious self preservation instinct kicks in (cuz it sure isn't any part of my actual brain working as my real life brain is in absolute non-functioning panic mode) and makes my legs stop moving.   You are absolutely, positively not supposed to run near a bear.  I freeze.   No sudden moves.  Ok.  No sudden moves.  No sudden moves.  WhatdoIdo?whatdoIdo?WHATDOIDO???????  Help.  Help.  HELP I scream in my head.  I hazard a quick look around.  I am alone.  Completely and utterly alone.  No cars.  No people.  No houses close enough.  It's just me and the bear.  I look at the bear.  The bear looks at me.  There is a bear looking at me.  I will my heart to stop crashing into my chest so I can breathe.   I have to get out of here,  preferably alive.  It definitely occurs to me that I am at the total mercy of this bear.  With one step and one good swipe of his mighty paw....ok, ok, let's not go there. What? What do I do?  Do I try to make friends with it.... reach out and pet it? Scratch under it's chin?  Or maybe I should try to sweet talk it?   Butter it up a little so it doesn't, you know, kill me.  Something like "oh, what a good bear.  What a big bear you are.   What a pretty bear.  Such a pretty bear.   Look at that pretty black coat you have.  So thick and shiny.  You must deep condition routinely."   No, no.  That won't work.  What?  What else?   I  e-v-e-r-   s-o-  s-l-o-w-l-y  take a small step backwards.  Still looking at the bear.  Bear still looking at me.  He doesn't move.  I take another tiny step back.  And another.  Slow and easy.  Breathe.   I can do this.  Very, very slowly I inch my way backwards, away from the bear.  The bear slowly gets up.   ohgodohgodohgod.  I freeze again.   He starts to move.  omgomgomg.  Please, please, please..... The big black bear slowly turns and lumbers.....away from me.  I watch him go.  I watch him until I can no longer see him, until he is completely gone. And then I turn.  And run.

  Apparently, I should have been a sprinter.  At age 40 something I have just discovered that I could have been an Olympic gold medal winner in the 100 meter dash.  Or the 200 meter dash.  Or any distance.  As it turns out, having an up close and personal encounter with a bear does something positively miraculous to your running pace.

Today on my run I ran into a bear.  The bear did not care.  I did.

Triathlon number two.....CHECK.


CROSSED ANOTHER FINISH LINE!!

The triathlon was amazing.  It was incredible.  It was exhilarating.    And it was really hard.  Well, the swim was really hard.  I am actually not ready to talk about the swim.  I believe I will never be able to talk about that swim.  Ever.  Ever ever.  But I rocked the bike, my new-found love.  The run was through trails, just like my beloved Stratton, but somehow harder and with even more hills.  So...ouch.   All the pain made crossing the finish line that much sweeter.  Sweet, sweet finish line.  There is absolutely nothing like it.

 Setting a goal, working towards that goal, accomplishing that goal.  I did it.  Now it's your turn.

                            great saying courtesy of  http://www.whoohagear.com/         

Triathlon tomorrow.

All the training.  All the hard work, the blood, the sweat, the tears.  Lots of tears.  The months of intense physical pain. The hours of tortured laps in the pool.  The bike rides of burning quads, taking the mountains of Simsbury.  The long, hard runs at Stratton Brook.  Swim.  Bike.  Run.  All of it.   All of it comes down to this.  And by this, of course, I mean................................ the tri shirt.

And it is sooooo cute!!!!  Totally worth it.  Pink perfection.

I. AM. READY.

Wish me luck.

 

T minus 3 days.

What was I thinking?  Seriously, what was I thinking??  I should have chosen the cut and color.

Sure, it all sounded great a couple of months ago.  Why yes, of course I want to do another triathlon.  The adventures in training, the Zoot suit, the new (hopefully pink) tee shirt, the feeling of accomplishment crossing the finish line.  Yes, Yes!! Of course  I'll do it!! Sign me up!!  There's absolutely no reason not to!

It is fifty five degrees out.  Hello, reason.

 I do not own a wetsuit.  And, as I believe we all know by now, one part of a triathlon involves swimming.   In the water.  The cold water.  The cold, unwetsuited water.

There has been a change in my training schedule for the next three days.  Gone are the plans for a nice bike ride, a quick run then a rest day.   Nope.  I am going to be holed up in my room training for this triathlon.   Training intensely.  Training furiously.  Training like I've never trained before.

Training to have a hot flash on command.

Hot flashes.  The new wetsuit.