My child of the technology age has recently had to learn the ins and outs of an old fashioned means of communicating...
Sending and waiting for letters in the mail.
With her boyfriend, Dagen, off on his mission, there will be no more phone calls, text messages, Skype video chats, or other forms of modern communication between them. In order to keep in touch, they have to resort to the old postage paid, sit and wait for a reply version of long distance communication that previous generations lived with their whole lives.
It has been fun for me to watch her learn.
For instance, for the first several weeks of his mission, Dagen has been at the Missionary Training Center (MTC), but this past Monday he flew to his assigned mission field. Before he left the MTC, he had sent Helena a letter asking for some pictures of her in order to show his roommates his beautiful girlfriend. So, this past Friday, she planned to put a memory card full of pictures into an envelope and mail it to him, fully expecting that he'd get it that day or the next.
Remember, he was scheduled to fly out the following Monday.
I had to explain to her that the mail system simply is not that fast. If she mailed it on Friday, it was very unlikely that he would receive it before his flight left on Monday morning. She was quite dismayed.
Fortunately, there was another solution. There is a local UPS store that will do a Friday only same day delivery of (small) boxes to the MTC for free! They do not advertise this, it is a word of mouth sort of perk. I heard about it from an old friend from our 'ballet mom' days. If you can get the box to them before 3:00 pm, they deliver it that day. Helena already had a box prepped and packed, so she just slipped the memory card envelope into the box to ensure that he got it.
The memory card thing is a modern-tech generation's version of sending pictures to each other, only they can also record video to send one another, as well. That memory card is about to rack up a whole lot of travel miles, since it will go back and forth between them, enclosed in their letters.
It is fun to watch Helena anticipate the mail delivery each day, and extra fun to see her reaction when there is a letter from Dagen in the mail box! Apparently, our mailman has already clued in on the special correspondence going on, because he makes sure to carefully arrange Dagen's letter on the top, prominently displayed and oriented so it is the first thing to be seen when the mailbox opens. So the letter from Dagen is always laying carefully in the front, not crammed in the back with the ads and circulars. It probably makes the mailman's day to actually deliver REAL mail that is eagerly awaited, instead of the normal garbage that chokes the mail system these days!
I feel like this is one of those circle of life moments. I know that sounds corny, but when I see Helena get excited or dejected about the mail, I can't help but think of all the generations before her who had the same experience waiting for news from a loved one far away... in the mission field, off to school, or serving on some far off battle front. It is an experience that many of this next generation will probably never have. So I am glad for her that she gets to experience it.
I'm not sure she is glad to experience it, though.
Maybe with time she will come to realize the value of owning and cherishing these real artifacts of her relationship with Dagen. There is something so satisfying about holding a tangible letter that was hand written by the sender, instead of an electronically typed and sent missive. The personality contained in the choice of ink color, the penmanship itself, and the care and consideration that went into writing it by hand are immeasurable.
Maybe she already feels that way?
At any rate, snail mail... the new/old way to communicate!
"Wanna Go To The Pool?"
I am asked this question often throughout the summer. The actual activity du jour varies wildly, depending on who actually asked the question.
"Wanna go to the pool?"
Coming from my youngest son, Will, this is an invite to go put in some laps and work out together. Sharing a lane is probable. Wetsuits may or may not be involved, depending on the time of day and/or weather. An actual workout swimsuit is a must. My gym bag must come, because it has my caps, goggles, and ear plugs. He is definitely hoping I'll bring my pool 'toys'... hand paddles, pull buoy, kick board, fins... so he can use them, too. Some time relaxing in the hot tub after the workout is done is a given. He may or may not abandon me, depending on whether or not one of his friends also happens to be at the pool at that moment.
If I had to describe Will's pool self, it would be a fish. Warm water, cold water... he is happy in it. Living in and loving the water.
"Wanna go to the pool?"
This question from my daughter, Helena, is not actually an invite to SWIM. This is an invite to go lounge next to the pool and bake in the sun. A lounging suit is a must. My phone for music and entertainment, ear buds, possibly reading material, and a wallet for the snack shack should all be included in the pool bag. Now, I can't really tolerate just baking in the sun, so I go dunk myself in the pool every 10-15 minutes and return to my chaise pleasantly cooled off so I can lounge on. I may even abandon my post at her side and just lay right in the water for a while. Helena, however, is the all-time-family-record-holder-queen-bee of sun baking. She is really quite the master at it.
If I had to describe Helena's pool self, it would be a lizard. Basking and dozing in the sun. Collecting its warmth to hopefully last her through the cold winter.
Bill never asks this question. Or rather, I should say, I have no recollection of Bill ever asking me, "wanna go to the pool?" It is just not in his nature to want to go to the pool. He'd rather be on a bike.
So, which version of the question do I prefer, you ask?
I like them both. I am happy to do both. Usually not at the same time. The three of us occasionally go to the pool together, but usually it is a one on one kind of deal. Any which way you look at it, it is a win-win for me.
Time at/in the pool + time with my kids = a very happy me!
"Wanna go to the pool?"
Coming from my youngest son, Will, this is an invite to go put in some laps and work out together. Sharing a lane is probable. Wetsuits may or may not be involved, depending on the time of day and/or weather. An actual workout swimsuit is a must. My gym bag must come, because it has my caps, goggles, and ear plugs. He is definitely hoping I'll bring my pool 'toys'... hand paddles, pull buoy, kick board, fins... so he can use them, too. Some time relaxing in the hot tub after the workout is done is a given. He may or may not abandon me, depending on whether or not one of his friends also happens to be at the pool at that moment.
If I had to describe Will's pool self, it would be a fish. Warm water, cold water... he is happy in it. Living in and loving the water.
"Wanna go to the pool?"
This question from my daughter, Helena, is not actually an invite to SWIM. This is an invite to go lounge next to the pool and bake in the sun. A lounging suit is a must. My phone for music and entertainment, ear buds, possibly reading material, and a wallet for the snack shack should all be included in the pool bag. Now, I can't really tolerate just baking in the sun, so I go dunk myself in the pool every 10-15 minutes and return to my chaise pleasantly cooled off so I can lounge on. I may even abandon my post at her side and just lay right in the water for a while. Helena, however, is the all-time-family-record-holder-queen-bee of sun baking. She is really quite the master at it.
If I had to describe Helena's pool self, it would be a lizard. Basking and dozing in the sun. Collecting its warmth to hopefully last her through the cold winter.
Bill never asks this question. Or rather, I should say, I have no recollection of Bill ever asking me, "wanna go to the pool?" It is just not in his nature to want to go to the pool. He'd rather be on a bike.
So, which version of the question do I prefer, you ask?
I like them both. I am happy to do both. Usually not at the same time. The three of us occasionally go to the pool together, but usually it is a one on one kind of deal. Any which way you look at it, it is a win-win for me.
Time at/in the pool + time with my kids = a very happy me!
Utah Half 2012
This was the event I have been planning and training for all year. I have been dreading it for the past 3 months; afraid I wouldn't be able to accomplish it. Surprisingly, the day before the race, I was able to compartmentalize my mind, so it didn't really hit me that the race was tomorrow until after I finished teaching for the day and started heading home from work. Once THE RACE was the next thing on the agenda, that's when I really started stressing out. So I guess it is a good thing I only had to go through the physical reactions to stress for a few hours instead of a few days!
It was like how I felt before my first half marathon, only multiplied by 10. I thought I might be sick.
Early evening of the day before the race, my right hip started hurting deep in the joint. It was more like an ache... it felt like it needed to pop. That got me really paranoid!
(Hey guys, the next paragraph mentions female body parts and processes. If you want, you can skip ahead to the next paragraph and we won't think any less of you.)
As if I wasn't nervous enough already, Aunt Flo stopped by for her monthly visit on the night before the race! I hadn't even thought about how to deal with that kind of hygiene issue while on an all day kind of race. I was worried about possible cramping during the race. Not to mention how much more painful this was going to make my time on the bike, since lady parts get touchy and sensitive when Aunt Flo comes over. In the end, I decided not to deal with Aunt Flo at all and just let that be one more layer of gross-ness that can be showered off after the race was over. That strategy worked well for me, by the way. Sorry. I know that seems gross, but you do what you gotta do.
(Okay, guys. You can come back now.)
The night before the race we had our normal Friday date night at Rubio's. I packed my tri bag and my special needs bag. Will loaded his windsurf board on top of the car (hoping for good wind while waiting for me during the race, it wasn't to be). I had a second dinner of chicken and pasta. I went to bed early.
On the morning of the race, I dragged myself out of bed at 5 am. Bill did a last minute tune up of my bike and got it loaded on the car. The kids slowly emerged from their bedrooms, and I actually managed to eat my entire breakfast and felt surprisingly calm. I think it helped that I was alone in the kitchen at the time. People talking to me about all things pertaining to the event seems to kill my ability to swallow. I took a dose of naproxen sodium to keep swelling down and prevent joint pain, too.
We got down to the Provo marina just after 6 am. The pre race meeting was scheduled to start at 6:20 and the race was supposed to begin at 7 am. In the meantime, I had to get my number painted on (293), pick up and put on my timing chip (it goes around your ankle), set up my transition station, and get into my wetsuit.
It was a big transition station. And mostly already full. I wasn't the last to arrive, but the transition opened up at 4 am, so I was looking at just getting whatever space I could find. However, I found just the perfect spot! Transition is so big, and has so many bikes in it, that it can be hard to find yours if you aren't paying close attention to details. The racks have row letters painted in the center aisle, starting with A, going through the alphabet, and repeating with double letters beyond that (I think mine was DD, or something like that). But I had a better marker. My bike was close to the lake and lined up perfectly with the exit ramp from the swim!
The pre-race meeting started late and because of that, the race also started late. Instead of a 7 am start, I think the first wave of swimmers started at 7:27. Or maybe it was 7:37. Either way, it ended in a 7 because I did look at my watch. I was in the last wave again. Bill and the kids looked forward to watching me in the swim, but they weren't confident they'd be able to find me. The joke was, "just look for the swimmer in the black wetsuit and the green cap." Most people were in black wetsuits and the green cap was required for the race. Still, with my pink goggles and the huge bump in the back of my swim cap made by my hair, they said they were able to spot me.
All my pre-race nerves washed away the moment I stepped into the water. I had no thoughts beyond what was right in front of me... the swim. I was committed. It had begun. The water was calm. Flat. Even if it was murky Utah Lake water. Some final start line instructions through a megaphone and we're off!
There was lots of thrashing. Lots of accidentally kicking someone and being kicked. Or hit by flailing arms. I think there is just no way around that. I have a bruise on my left forearm that must be from someone kicking me. We had to do 2 laps around the buoys. My wave got into the swim course as the pros and men were starting their second lap, so the course was crowded. I kept swimming off to my left and getting farther from the buoys than I wanted to. However, it did get me out of the heavy traffic flow and I was able to settle down into my swim rhythm, which is something I couldn't do in last week's sprint.
Here's a secret about the Utah Half swim. One fourth of the course is in shallow enough water to put your feet down and walk. If you don't mind deep, soft, slimy mud, that is. I found this out when I went to practice the course several weeks ago. Apparently, there were plenty of people willing to put their feet in that mud, too. I saw several walkers on the back stretch. And, I admit it. I did put my feet down for a few moments to rest on the second lap. I even walked a few steps to catch my breath. But only a few, I promise!
I know. CHEAT! Ah well. It was only a couple of steps. I didn't walk the entire section, as I saw others do.
Another thing I have noticed about the swim portion of triathlons is... backstroke is a BAD IDEA. I can't tell you how many backstrokers I've seen headed off in the wrong direction! Some into the center of the course, others out to sea (so to speak). So, unless you are rockstar at keeping a straight course while stroking on your back... stick to front crawl and breast stroke so you can see where you are going!!! Work out whatever issues you have with technique or breathing, because it is NOT worth it to end up massively off course in the middle of a race. I do front crawl all the way, using breast stroke only to take a breather if I need one.
I had one bad moment in the swim halfway through when I suddenly started gagging and retching. I don't know why, but I did manage to get it under control and keep swimming. Finally I was in the last stretch of the swim and headed to the exit ramp. Oh, that was the longest part of the swim!
I finished the swim in just under 51 minutes. Not as fast as my pool swims by a long shot, but I was happy with how I'd done.
Will was waiting on the ramp for me. He wanted to help me out of the water, but an official got to me first. It was just as well, because I had forgotten to mention to the kids (and Bill, for that matter) that it was against the rules for me to accept help from anyone except officials and volunteers. I gave Will a big, wet hug anyway and jogged off to the transition and my bike.
Helena came running up to congratulate me on the swim. She and Will kept me company (through the fence) while I stripped off my wetsuit and got into my cycling gear. It took me longer in transition because the kids were there, but I don't care. I'd rather have my kids there showing me their love and support than have a fast transition time. Bill was down at the car getting his bike ready. The bike course was all on public roads, so I asked him if he would ride it with me, for moral support. Besides, if I got a flat, I'd need him to fix it for me, rules or no rules. I haven't learned that skill, yet. I know. My bad. He was not the only non-competitor along the course. There were lots of locals taking advantage of the policed course to get their personal workouts in.
Fortunately, I didn't get a single flat. But we found other people stranded on the side of the road, and Bill always stopped to help them. I'd keep going and he would catch up as soon as he could. The first time was just right outside the marina park. Bill said it took him 3 miles to catch up to me that time. Another time Bill stopped to help a rider, the guy had already had 4 flats (we hadn't gotten to the half way point, yet) and a torn side wall on his tire. Bill offered to give him a new tire (he was packing one for me... just in case), but the guy said 'no thanks, I'm done' and quit the race. That was the first one I saw that could not complete the race. Not the last.
The bike was 56 miles of beautiful rural countryside. Mostly. There was a little city riding, but there were cops at every intersection stopping traffic for us. I loved that! Early on I decided to go around 17 mph and keep to that pace. That's only 1 mph over my training speed, so I felt it was doable. I ended up averaging 17.5 mph, so my plan worked!
I picked up a bottle of Gatorade at the fueling station at the 15 mi mark. I'd never snatched a bottle mid-ride before. The volunteers hold them out to the riders as they ride past. I'm proud of myself for managing to do it without crashing. Most riders squirt as much of the liquid as possible into their mouths (or water pouches if they are on fancy/expensive tri bikes), then chuck the bottles to the side of the road for the volunteers to pick up later. I stuck it in my extra bottle cage and kept it for the rest of the ride.
The ride was an out and back. At the turn around (28 miles), there were volunteers waiting to bring special needs bags to the riders when they call out their bib number. Most riders quickly stuff whatever they had packed into their jersey (or where ever) and are on their way in 30 seconds or less.
Not me. I full on stopped and unclipped. I was probably there for 10 minutes, just eating what I had packed. I'm not good at eating while I'm riding. So I stood there and ate my banana, protein drink, and whatever else I'd put in there for calories to make it to the next refueling back at transition.
I have to say that during the first half of the bike, I'd passed a lot of people. They all blasted past me while I had my picnic at the turn around. But the interesting thing is...
... on the second half of the bike, I passed them all back again, plus a few more people as well! Many of them weren't able to sustain the same speed in the second half of the bike as they had in the first. I maintained the same speeds throughout. So I think the picnic turned out to be a good idea in the end.
Oh, and I can't tell you how good it felt to pass those 22 and 23 year old men. And that one 36 year old guy that got so upset about me passing him, yet he couldn't manage to catch back up to me. Hee, hee. (Sorry. Not very sporting of me.)
I can't thank Bill enough for coming with me on the bike! He made it fun and relaxing, just like one of our normal training rides together. So, thanks again, sweetheart! You rock!
The watering station at mile 41 came up much faster than I'd expected, and before you know it, I was counting down the last 6 miles of the bike. I wasn't sure what my increased pace on the bike was going to do to my running legs... the segment of the race I dreaded the most.
Back in transition, I took another dose of naproxen sodium, since I knew it had been 6 or more hours since the last dose. I ate another banana and some other sport beans & Gu while I switched from my biking gear to my running gear. I really spent a lot of time in transition this time, nearly 10 minutes! But the kids were so happy to see me and hear about the bike that I spent some time talking to them while Bill put his bike away in the car and hurried to join them and wish me luck on the run.
Okay, I was also stalling because I really didn't want to do the run. I still had to run a half marathon and all I really wanted to do was go jump back in the lake!
But, I couldn't stop now, with the swim and bike over, I was 2/3 done. And, early that morning, I had written a message to myself on my left forearm. "YouCanDoThis". Just in case it was ever in doubt.
So, finally, I said goodbye to the family and headed out on the run.
Running without music is HARD. I spent most of my time counting my breaths. Sixty breaths of running. 20 breaths of walking. Repeat. I knew if I just ran without taking breaks, I wouldn't make it. So, I created intervals that I could sustain over the long haul. I knew my time would be slower than a normal half marathon, but I thought it would be acceptable considering what I'd already gone through that day. I was just hoping to come in under 3 hours on the run. And I did! 2 hours 54 minutes.
The run is by far the most social part of the race. The competitors can finally see eye to eye and chat with one another as they pass on the route. Don't get me wrong, we were friendly on the bike, too, but the run was more so. It was a two lap course, so there we were passing each other coming and going. Lots of high fives and encouragement for each other. Care and concern when you could see someone struggling. I saw a man give up on the race during what I think was his second lap of the run. Others were doubling over with nausea, but managed to keep going. One awesome older gentleman was hobbling along with both knees in braces and a grimace on his face, but he never gave up.
I met a 34 year old woman named Lynette. We ran together for about 1/2 a mile until she had to drop back. She said this was her third year doing this race, and she's come in dead last in her division every year, but she just keeps coming and doing it anyways. She had a great attitude about it. She said that she may be slow, but only 1% of the world's population has ever participated in a triathlon, and only 1% of that group has ever attempted 70.3 or bigger. I don't know if her figures are accurate, but they inspired her to keep going. Several people congratulated me after the race on joining the 'elite' athletes, since this was my first monster race. I laughed at that, because I don't consider myself an athlete, let alone an 'elite' one.
I have to say that the aid stations on the run were the best I've ever seen! They were roughly every mile. There was water, Heed (an electrolyte drink), Gatorade, Coke (I tried it at one station and decided it was a bad idea... carbonation, no), gels, ice, and salt tablets. Oh, and every other aid station had a kid maning a hose to spray down any athlete who wanted it. I was carrying Will's phone (I'd forgotten mine at home), but I mostly managed to keep his phone dry AND get hosed off every single time.
For a few miles towards the end, my left ankle was hurting, and so was my right knee. But after a while, they stopped hurting. It's as if they decided since I wasn't paying attention, they'd just play nice.
I used the phone to text my position to the family periodically, starting at mile 7, so they would know when to position themselves at the finish and cheer. By the end of the run, I was counting 20 breaths running, 20 breaths walking. But, I made it! I crossed the finish line with Bill, Helena, Will... and my brother, Erik, and his wife, Deanna, there to cheer me on! I thought it was so awesomely sweet of Erik and Deanna to make time in their day to come see me finish!!!
After cooling down and visiting for a while, I discovered that Helena had gotten some specialized markers and wrote messages to me all over my car! She was afraid I might get mad, but I loved it! We got so many curious looks from other motorists on the freeway as we drove home.
The finisher's medal is a seriously heavy piece of hardware. It felt cool wearing it and I was proud to earn it, but I can't help wondering just what, exactly, I'm supposed to do with it now (along with the others I've collected). I think I'll get a curtain rod and install it on a wall in the back hall and hang them from that. Bill can hang his, too.
Now I feel sore, tired, and hungry. I calculated that I burned between 5,500 and 6,100 calories that day. I have no idea how many I ingested. Not that many, for sure. Not even by half.
So, everything I eat today tastes absolutely AMAZING. Really. I don't think scrambled eggs have ever tasted so good!
However, I feel amazingly good! Not as sore as I was after my first ever half marathon two years ago.
I still can't believe I did it. It didn't feel so huge while I was in the middle of doing it. Just one step at a time until you get to the end and realize you just traveled 70.3 miles!
I'll stop rambling now and move on with my life. Thanks for sticking with this extremely long winded post! And thanks to all of you for your kindness, friendship, and encouragement along the journey!
Oh, and what's next, you ask?
Red Rock Relay - Zion
in two weeks.
****
Official Record
It was like how I felt before my first half marathon, only multiplied by 10. I thought I might be sick.
Early evening of the day before the race, my right hip started hurting deep in the joint. It was more like an ache... it felt like it needed to pop. That got me really paranoid!
(Hey guys, the next paragraph mentions female body parts and processes. If you want, you can skip ahead to the next paragraph and we won't think any less of you.)
As if I wasn't nervous enough already, Aunt Flo stopped by for her monthly visit on the night before the race! I hadn't even thought about how to deal with that kind of hygiene issue while on an all day kind of race. I was worried about possible cramping during the race. Not to mention how much more painful this was going to make my time on the bike, since lady parts get touchy and sensitive when Aunt Flo comes over. In the end, I decided not to deal with Aunt Flo at all and just let that be one more layer of gross-ness that can be showered off after the race was over. That strategy worked well for me, by the way. Sorry. I know that seems gross, but you do what you gotta do.
(Okay, guys. You can come back now.)
The night before the race we had our normal Friday date night at Rubio's. I packed my tri bag and my special needs bag. Will loaded his windsurf board on top of the car (hoping for good wind while waiting for me during the race, it wasn't to be). I had a second dinner of chicken and pasta. I went to bed early.
On the morning of the race, I dragged myself out of bed at 5 am. Bill did a last minute tune up of my bike and got it loaded on the car. The kids slowly emerged from their bedrooms, and I actually managed to eat my entire breakfast and felt surprisingly calm. I think it helped that I was alone in the kitchen at the time. People talking to me about all things pertaining to the event seems to kill my ability to swallow. I took a dose of naproxen sodium to keep swelling down and prevent joint pain, too.
We got down to the Provo marina just after 6 am. The pre race meeting was scheduled to start at 6:20 and the race was supposed to begin at 7 am. In the meantime, I had to get my number painted on (293), pick up and put on my timing chip (it goes around your ankle), set up my transition station, and get into my wetsuit.
It was a big transition station. And mostly already full. I wasn't the last to arrive, but the transition opened up at 4 am, so I was looking at just getting whatever space I could find. However, I found just the perfect spot! Transition is so big, and has so many bikes in it, that it can be hard to find yours if you aren't paying close attention to details. The racks have row letters painted in the center aisle, starting with A, going through the alphabet, and repeating with double letters beyond that (I think mine was DD, or something like that). But I had a better marker. My bike was close to the lake and lined up perfectly with the exit ramp from the swim!
The pre-race meeting started late and because of that, the race also started late. Instead of a 7 am start, I think the first wave of swimmers started at 7:27. Or maybe it was 7:37. Either way, it ended in a 7 because I did look at my watch. I was in the last wave again. Bill and the kids looked forward to watching me in the swim, but they weren't confident they'd be able to find me. The joke was, "just look for the swimmer in the black wetsuit and the green cap." Most people were in black wetsuits and the green cap was required for the race. Still, with my pink goggles and the huge bump in the back of my swim cap made by my hair, they said they were able to spot me.
All my pre-race nerves washed away the moment I stepped into the water. I had no thoughts beyond what was right in front of me... the swim. I was committed. It had begun. The water was calm. Flat. Even if it was murky Utah Lake water. Some final start line instructions through a megaphone and we're off!
There was lots of thrashing. Lots of accidentally kicking someone and being kicked. Or hit by flailing arms. I think there is just no way around that. I have a bruise on my left forearm that must be from someone kicking me. We had to do 2 laps around the buoys. My wave got into the swim course as the pros and men were starting their second lap, so the course was crowded. I kept swimming off to my left and getting farther from the buoys than I wanted to. However, it did get me out of the heavy traffic flow and I was able to settle down into my swim rhythm, which is something I couldn't do in last week's sprint.
Here's a secret about the Utah Half swim. One fourth of the course is in shallow enough water to put your feet down and walk. If you don't mind deep, soft, slimy mud, that is. I found this out when I went to practice the course several weeks ago. Apparently, there were plenty of people willing to put their feet in that mud, too. I saw several walkers on the back stretch. And, I admit it. I did put my feet down for a few moments to rest on the second lap. I even walked a few steps to catch my breath. But only a few, I promise!
I know. CHEAT! Ah well. It was only a couple of steps. I didn't walk the entire section, as I saw others do.
Another thing I have noticed about the swim portion of triathlons is... backstroke is a BAD IDEA. I can't tell you how many backstrokers I've seen headed off in the wrong direction! Some into the center of the course, others out to sea (so to speak). So, unless you are rockstar at keeping a straight course while stroking on your back... stick to front crawl and breast stroke so you can see where you are going!!! Work out whatever issues you have with technique or breathing, because it is NOT worth it to end up massively off course in the middle of a race. I do front crawl all the way, using breast stroke only to take a breather if I need one.
I had one bad moment in the swim halfway through when I suddenly started gagging and retching. I don't know why, but I did manage to get it under control and keep swimming. Finally I was in the last stretch of the swim and headed to the exit ramp. Oh, that was the longest part of the swim!
I finished the swim in just under 51 minutes. Not as fast as my pool swims by a long shot, but I was happy with how I'd done.
Will was waiting on the ramp for me. He wanted to help me out of the water, but an official got to me first. It was just as well, because I had forgotten to mention to the kids (and Bill, for that matter) that it was against the rules for me to accept help from anyone except officials and volunteers. I gave Will a big, wet hug anyway and jogged off to the transition and my bike.
Helena came running up to congratulate me on the swim. She and Will kept me company (through the fence) while I stripped off my wetsuit and got into my cycling gear. It took me longer in transition because the kids were there, but I don't care. I'd rather have my kids there showing me their love and support than have a fast transition time. Bill was down at the car getting his bike ready. The bike course was all on public roads, so I asked him if he would ride it with me, for moral support. Besides, if I got a flat, I'd need him to fix it for me, rules or no rules. I haven't learned that skill, yet. I know. My bad. He was not the only non-competitor along the course. There were lots of locals taking advantage of the policed course to get their personal workouts in.
Fortunately, I didn't get a single flat. But we found other people stranded on the side of the road, and Bill always stopped to help them. I'd keep going and he would catch up as soon as he could. The first time was just right outside the marina park. Bill said it took him 3 miles to catch up to me that time. Another time Bill stopped to help a rider, the guy had already had 4 flats (we hadn't gotten to the half way point, yet) and a torn side wall on his tire. Bill offered to give him a new tire (he was packing one for me... just in case), but the guy said 'no thanks, I'm done' and quit the race. That was the first one I saw that could not complete the race. Not the last.
The bike was 56 miles of beautiful rural countryside. Mostly. There was a little city riding, but there were cops at every intersection stopping traffic for us. I loved that! Early on I decided to go around 17 mph and keep to that pace. That's only 1 mph over my training speed, so I felt it was doable. I ended up averaging 17.5 mph, so my plan worked!
I picked up a bottle of Gatorade at the fueling station at the 15 mi mark. I'd never snatched a bottle mid-ride before. The volunteers hold them out to the riders as they ride past. I'm proud of myself for managing to do it without crashing. Most riders squirt as much of the liquid as possible into their mouths (or water pouches if they are on fancy/expensive tri bikes), then chuck the bottles to the side of the road for the volunteers to pick up later. I stuck it in my extra bottle cage and kept it for the rest of the ride.
The ride was an out and back. At the turn around (28 miles), there were volunteers waiting to bring special needs bags to the riders when they call out their bib number. Most riders quickly stuff whatever they had packed into their jersey (or where ever) and are on their way in 30 seconds or less.
Not me. I full on stopped and unclipped. I was probably there for 10 minutes, just eating what I had packed. I'm not good at eating while I'm riding. So I stood there and ate my banana, protein drink, and whatever else I'd put in there for calories to make it to the next refueling back at transition.
I have to say that during the first half of the bike, I'd passed a lot of people. They all blasted past me while I had my picnic at the turn around. But the interesting thing is...
... on the second half of the bike, I passed them all back again, plus a few more people as well! Many of them weren't able to sustain the same speed in the second half of the bike as they had in the first. I maintained the same speeds throughout. So I think the picnic turned out to be a good idea in the end.
Oh, and I can't tell you how good it felt to pass those 22 and 23 year old men. And that one 36 year old guy that got so upset about me passing him, yet he couldn't manage to catch back up to me. Hee, hee. (Sorry. Not very sporting of me.)
I can't thank Bill enough for coming with me on the bike! He made it fun and relaxing, just like one of our normal training rides together. So, thanks again, sweetheart! You rock!
The watering station at mile 41 came up much faster than I'd expected, and before you know it, I was counting down the last 6 miles of the bike. I wasn't sure what my increased pace on the bike was going to do to my running legs... the segment of the race I dreaded the most.
Back in transition, I took another dose of naproxen sodium, since I knew it had been 6 or more hours since the last dose. I ate another banana and some other sport beans & Gu while I switched from my biking gear to my running gear. I really spent a lot of time in transition this time, nearly 10 minutes! But the kids were so happy to see me and hear about the bike that I spent some time talking to them while Bill put his bike away in the car and hurried to join them and wish me luck on the run.
Okay, I was also stalling because I really didn't want to do the run. I still had to run a half marathon and all I really wanted to do was go jump back in the lake!
But, I couldn't stop now, with the swim and bike over, I was 2/3 done. And, early that morning, I had written a message to myself on my left forearm. "YouCanDoThis". Just in case it was ever in doubt.
So, finally, I said goodbye to the family and headed out on the run.
Running without music is HARD. I spent most of my time counting my breaths. Sixty breaths of running. 20 breaths of walking. Repeat. I knew if I just ran without taking breaks, I wouldn't make it. So, I created intervals that I could sustain over the long haul. I knew my time would be slower than a normal half marathon, but I thought it would be acceptable considering what I'd already gone through that day. I was just hoping to come in under 3 hours on the run. And I did! 2 hours 54 minutes.
The run is by far the most social part of the race. The competitors can finally see eye to eye and chat with one another as they pass on the route. Don't get me wrong, we were friendly on the bike, too, but the run was more so. It was a two lap course, so there we were passing each other coming and going. Lots of high fives and encouragement for each other. Care and concern when you could see someone struggling. I saw a man give up on the race during what I think was his second lap of the run. Others were doubling over with nausea, but managed to keep going. One awesome older gentleman was hobbling along with both knees in braces and a grimace on his face, but he never gave up.
I met a 34 year old woman named Lynette. We ran together for about 1/2 a mile until she had to drop back. She said this was her third year doing this race, and she's come in dead last in her division every year, but she just keeps coming and doing it anyways. She had a great attitude about it. She said that she may be slow, but only 1% of the world's population has ever participated in a triathlon, and only 1% of that group has ever attempted 70.3 or bigger. I don't know if her figures are accurate, but they inspired her to keep going. Several people congratulated me after the race on joining the 'elite' athletes, since this was my first monster race. I laughed at that, because I don't consider myself an athlete, let alone an 'elite' one.
I have to say that the aid stations on the run were the best I've ever seen! They were roughly every mile. There was water, Heed (an electrolyte drink), Gatorade, Coke (I tried it at one station and decided it was a bad idea... carbonation, no), gels, ice, and salt tablets. Oh, and every other aid station had a kid maning a hose to spray down any athlete who wanted it. I was carrying Will's phone (I'd forgotten mine at home), but I mostly managed to keep his phone dry AND get hosed off every single time.
For a few miles towards the end, my left ankle was hurting, and so was my right knee. But after a while, they stopped hurting. It's as if they decided since I wasn't paying attention, they'd just play nice.
I used the phone to text my position to the family periodically, starting at mile 7, so they would know when to position themselves at the finish and cheer. By the end of the run, I was counting 20 breaths running, 20 breaths walking. But, I made it! I crossed the finish line with Bill, Helena, Will... and my brother, Erik, and his wife, Deanna, there to cheer me on! I thought it was so awesomely sweet of Erik and Deanna to make time in their day to come see me finish!!!
After cooling down and visiting for a while, I discovered that Helena had gotten some specialized markers and wrote messages to me all over my car! She was afraid I might get mad, but I loved it! We got so many curious looks from other motorists on the freeway as we drove home.
The finisher's medal is a seriously heavy piece of hardware. It felt cool wearing it and I was proud to earn it, but I can't help wondering just what, exactly, I'm supposed to do with it now (along with the others I've collected). I think I'll get a curtain rod and install it on a wall in the back hall and hang them from that. Bill can hang his, too.
Now I feel sore, tired, and hungry. I calculated that I burned between 5,500 and 6,100 calories that day. I have no idea how many I ingested. Not that many, for sure. Not even by half.
So, everything I eat today tastes absolutely AMAZING. Really. I don't think scrambled eggs have ever tasted so good!
However, I feel amazingly good! Not as sore as I was after my first ever half marathon two years ago.
I still can't believe I did it. It didn't feel so huge while I was in the middle of doing it. Just one step at a time until you get to the end and realize you just traveled 70.3 miles!
I'll stop rambling now and move on with my life. Thanks for sticking with this extremely long winded post! And thanks to all of you for your kindness, friendship, and encouragement along the journey!
Oh, and what's next, you ask?
Red Rock Relay - Zion
in two weeks.
****
Official Record
| Place | Bib | Name | Div | Swim | T1 | Bike | T2 | Run | Official |
|---|
| 302 | 293 | Katharina Watson | F4044 | 50:57 | 5:53 | 3:19:21 | 9:38 | 2:54:13 | 7:20:00.4 |
Saratoga Springs Sprint Tri 2012
I signed up for this race as an after thought. All my energy and focus has been on the monster race coming up next Saturday. Throughout the summer, my son, Will, had expressed passing interest in doing the Saratoga Sprints tri. He didn't seem too interested in actually training, though, so I didn't think he was serious. Finally, with only a couple of weeks before the sprint, he finally told me that he really did want to do it. So, I decided it would be a fun thing for both of us to do it! My brother, Erik, was already registered for it, and so was my friend, Michelle. I figured that, if nothing else, it would be a good practice run for transitions.
On race day morning, I was nervous. So weird, because I had done this one before and the distances seemed very tame to me... and I wasn't even going to push myself on it, just take it easy and enjoy the ride, so to speak. Still, I was nervous and had a hard time eating my pre race breakfast. Half of my oatmeal went down the drain, and Bill finished the second half of my banana for me.
When we got to the marina, Bill discovered that Will's front bike tire had a slow leak, so he repaired it while Will and I went to the body marking station and got our timing chips attached to our ankles. The volunteers put a number 90 on my forearm and my left calf, and wrote my age on my right calf. Will was number 85. I actually like that everyone's age is visible on their calf, because you can see the ages of the people you pass (and passing you) in the bike and run portions. More on that later.
We arranged our bikes and gear in the transition area. For those of you who have never done or watched a triathlon, the swim portion starts the race. When athletes exit the water, they run up to the 'transition area'. This is a fenced in area where the bikes are put on racks waiting for the second part of the race. All your gear is gathered on and around the bike in (hopefully) a super organized way to speed up your transition from one segment of the race to the next. For instance, my helmet hung from the handlebars with my glasses, gloves, and race number tucked inside. My tri bag was on the ground just in front of the bike with my bike shoes resting on top, and my running gear just below (running shoes, socks, visor). When you return from the bike, you quickly hang your bike on the rack and switch to your running gear. There are plastic mats at the entrance and exit of the transition area that ping your timing chip and mark the end of segments and the beginning and ending of your transitions. So the timing chip records swim, T1 (transition one), bike, T2 (transition two), run.
After getting all set up, we wandered down to the water's edge to hear the final pre-race instructions and to say hello to several people that I know from the community (I teach in Saratoga Springs, so I knew several of the volunteers and even some of the other racers).
The race is started in waves. This keeps the water from being too crowded with thrashing bodies. Erik was in the 2nd wave, Will was in the 3rd wave, and I was in the 5th and final wave. When the race was over, I had to subtract 8 minutes from my finish time, because my wave started the race 8 minutes after the timing chips were activated.
My friend, Michelle, was in my same wave, so we got in the water next to each other and waited for our starting horn to sound. There really were not very many ladies in our wave (the 5th wave was for women ages 35 and up). There couldn't have been more than 15 of us, if that. I have not been working on speed at all in my swimming and it really showed in this race! Michelle left me in the dust (or milky, murky water since "dust" is probably not a good descriptor for a swimming race). I really struggled with the swim this time around, and it had me panicking for next weekend's race. I couldn't find my rhythm and I spent WAY too much time with my head out of the water looking forward. It wasn't until I was around the final buoy and headed back to shore that I was able to improve my technique to some extent. Still, I got out of the water feeling VERY discouraged and I walked to the transition area instead of running.
Oh, I can't forget to mention the woman doing the backstroke in front of me... going the wrong direction! I stopped her several times and pointed her in the right direction. She'd correct her course, then end up curving off on some wrong tangent again! It kept her zig-zagging in front of me and I had a hard time passing her.
When I got to transition, I found that Will was still there. He had enjoyed the swim and found it surprisingly less difficult than he had feared. That made me feel very happy! All I wanted was for him to have a good time and want to do it again next year. He was taking his time in transition. Bill and Deanna were there, just on the other side of the fencing (spectators aren't allowed in the transition area), goading Will to hurry-it-up! He took his time, though, which is totally fine, of course. This was his first ever triathlon. Next time he will streamline things and will be faster.
Will left transition a few minutes before I did, but I caught up to and passed him quickly on the bike. This was one area of the race where training really did pay off for me. My summer of cycle training has given me strong quads and hamstrings! I hammered down on the pedals and passed TONS of people! Oh! That felt GOOD! I got passed a couple of times on some hill climbs, but I blasted past them again on the downs and flats. No one passed me for a second time. Boy, this sounds like bragging, but I can't help it. I rocked the bike!
Here is where it got fun to see the ages on people's calves. I felt pretty great passing a 19 year old boy on the bike!
The bike portion of the race was along a 12 mile strip of Redwood Road. Local police turned it into a one lane road and escorted vehicles from one end to the other while racers took up both sides of the road (going out and coming back). The bike course consisted of rolling hills climbing in elevation, then returning to the marina in an awesome downhill roller coaster!
T2 (transition 2) was my fastest transition to date. In, out, and on my way in just over 2 minutes. The run portion of this race was a 5K starting in an uphill climb out of the marina and into the surrounding neighborhood. I'm not gonna lie. The run is hard to get started on. It is hard mentally, but also hard physically to start on an uphill just after getting off the bike. Confession: I walked almost all of the uphill portions of the run. I also walked through the water stations.
...and I even stopped to "take a shower" when local residents held out their hoses on sprinkler mode for the athletes passing by. I kid you not. I literally stopped and rotated in a full circle, letting some little 10 year old hose me off before thanking him and heading on my way. That home owner also set up their own watering station with the coldest water on the route! Woot, woot!
The run is the segment of the race where the numbers on the calf can be both a blessing and a curse. I am not an awesome runner, as I have already confessed, so lots of people passed me during the run. Whenever someone passed me, I always took note of their age. If it was a guy... "well, he's a guy. So it's OK that he passed me, I'm not going to sweat it." If it was a girl... "Oh, she's 24 years old. Of course she's better at this than me!" or "Dang it! She's my same age! I can't let her get away with that!" And so I'd pace her and keep up with her.
Still, all the goofing off I did meant that I expected a pretty poor run time. I was surprised, therefore, to find out that I improved upon last year's run time by over a minute!
And, I came in THIRD PLACE in my age division!
At the awards ceremony, I actually blurted out, "What?!? No way!!!" when my name was called. I know my swim was sub par, as was my run, so it must have been the bike that put me on that 'podium'. (There was no podium, really)
We stuck around post race for the prize raffle. Local businesses had donated gift certificates or other goodies, which were given out by randomly drawing out bib numbers. My brother won a RoadID, and my son won a gift card to the local tri store, which he promptly traded to another winner for the National Guard backpack that she had won. So, every triathlete in our party won something that day and we all came away from it feeling like rockstars! Add to that an awesome post race lunch at a local joint called Sean's Barbecue (yup, it was AMAZING!) and you end up with a terrific day! I'm looking forward to doing this race again next year.
Transitions
On the evening before this year's sprint triathlon, you might think I mean swim/bike or bike/run when I mention transitions.
Nope. I am referring to the transition from summer vacation to work/school.
Yesterday I returned to 'active duty' with meetings all morning, and work in my classroom all afternoon.
It was a rough transition.
First of all, we had the annual "Kumbaya" meeting, as my brother-in-law has dubbed it. You know... the annual pep rally for the teachers, telling us how wonderful we are, and aren't we excited for a new school year full of bright, happy faces? Loud music, videos of little children stating what they want to be when they grow up, pep-pep-peppy marching bands... and cheerleaders... and tumblers... and team mascots....
You get the idea.
The problem? We were told by some high up district muckity-muck that breakfast would be served.
No breakfast. Unless you count being given a 2 liter of Coke (only if you jumped over it first) and being pelted by candy by the peppy cheerleaders and student council members of Westlake HS, the school our elementary feeds into. Somehow I don't think Michelle Obama would approve.
After the rah, rah, sis-boom-bah, we all drove back to our own building for faculty meeting. So, I stopped at McD's for some much needed calories. However, due to the nature of McD's, they sat like a lump of lead in my stomach for the rest of the day.
Morning faculty meeting was swift and uneventful, but cold, cold, COLD! I had forgotten how very WELL the A/C works in the building. I didn't bring a sweater. So, I was slightly under-dressed... and yet I felt overwhelmed by how very many clothes I actually had on! Oh the irony!
I've spent the past 2 1/2 months running around in as few clothes as possible. If I wasn't in workout clothes (shorts and tank tops mostly), I was in a swimsuit. Flip flops were the shoe of choice if I absolutely had to have shoes, otherwise, I went barefoot. So, by the end of the work day, I was freezing, and yet stifled by all the clothes. Stepping out of the building into the 96* heat was like heaven! As soon as I got home, I stripped back down to summer clothes and promptly dozed off on the front porch. (I did make myself hit the gym that evening, though)
Oh, and let's not forget to mention the return to commute driving! Morning radio stations are the spawn of Satan. Quit talking already and give me the dang music! I have spent the summer as a mostly non-driver. Weekend trips to the grocery store and the occasional off peak trips to the lake or canyon constituted the entirety of my behind-the-wheel time. When biking, I stuck to side roads where the traffic was light to non-existent. Rush hour commuters are MANIACS. I live 12 miles from work, and I saw every bad driver cliché acted out in those 12 miles. If you remember, I was commuting home from work when that lady pulled in front of me and caused the crash that ended the life of my Alero. Yes, indeed. Utah drivers are the WORST.
***
Today went somewhat better. I rebelled slightly, and wore my favorite jeans with a cute-but-casual tank/sweater combo that was more comfortable than professional. We are still in pre-student meetings, though, so no one really cares. Notice I remembered the sweater this time? And it is a good thing, too, because today's meetings were at Oak Canyon JH, where the temperature was even MORE glacial than at my school! That cafeteria was an ICEBOX! However, the meeting was really very good. My only other complaint (if I felt like going on a rant) would be the terrible layout of that school's bathrooms! four sinks and only one soap dispenser?!? I hate to think about the hygiene rates for their students there. Oh, and what is it about institutional toilet paper? Do you think they could possibly make it any thinner?!?
Anyways, the transition is always a bit rough. I came home completely wiped out, even though all we did was sit in meetings all day. I look forward to settling into a daily teaching routine, when I can start to feel my energy levels returning to normal...
... and feel like it is completely normal to do my hair & face & fully clothed outfit & crazy commute every single day.
Welcome 2012-2013 school year.
Nope. I am referring to the transition from summer vacation to work/school.
Yesterday I returned to 'active duty' with meetings all morning, and work in my classroom all afternoon.
It was a rough transition.
First of all, we had the annual "Kumbaya" meeting, as my brother-in-law has dubbed it. You know... the annual pep rally for the teachers, telling us how wonderful we are, and aren't we excited for a new school year full of bright, happy faces? Loud music, videos of little children stating what they want to be when they grow up, pep-pep-peppy marching bands... and cheerleaders... and tumblers... and team mascots....
You get the idea.
The problem? We were told by some high up district muckity-muck that breakfast would be served.
No breakfast. Unless you count being given a 2 liter of Coke (only if you jumped over it first) and being pelted by candy by the peppy cheerleaders and student council members of Westlake HS, the school our elementary feeds into. Somehow I don't think Michelle Obama would approve.
After the rah, rah, sis-boom-bah, we all drove back to our own building for faculty meeting. So, I stopped at McD's for some much needed calories. However, due to the nature of McD's, they sat like a lump of lead in my stomach for the rest of the day.
Morning faculty meeting was swift and uneventful, but cold, cold, COLD! I had forgotten how very WELL the A/C works in the building. I didn't bring a sweater. So, I was slightly under-dressed... and yet I felt overwhelmed by how very many clothes I actually had on! Oh the irony!
I've spent the past 2 1/2 months running around in as few clothes as possible. If I wasn't in workout clothes (shorts and tank tops mostly), I was in a swimsuit. Flip flops were the shoe of choice if I absolutely had to have shoes, otherwise, I went barefoot. So, by the end of the work day, I was freezing, and yet stifled by all the clothes. Stepping out of the building into the 96* heat was like heaven! As soon as I got home, I stripped back down to summer clothes and promptly dozed off on the front porch. (I did make myself hit the gym that evening, though)
Oh, and let's not forget to mention the return to commute driving! Morning radio stations are the spawn of Satan. Quit talking already and give me the dang music! I have spent the summer as a mostly non-driver. Weekend trips to the grocery store and the occasional off peak trips to the lake or canyon constituted the entirety of my behind-the-wheel time. When biking, I stuck to side roads where the traffic was light to non-existent. Rush hour commuters are MANIACS. I live 12 miles from work, and I saw every bad driver cliché acted out in those 12 miles. If you remember, I was commuting home from work when that lady pulled in front of me and caused the crash that ended the life of my Alero. Yes, indeed. Utah drivers are the WORST.
***
Today went somewhat better. I rebelled slightly, and wore my favorite jeans with a cute-but-casual tank/sweater combo that was more comfortable than professional. We are still in pre-student meetings, though, so no one really cares. Notice I remembered the sweater this time? And it is a good thing, too, because today's meetings were at Oak Canyon JH, where the temperature was even MORE glacial than at my school! That cafeteria was an ICEBOX! However, the meeting was really very good. My only other complaint (if I felt like going on a rant) would be the terrible layout of that school's bathrooms! four sinks and only one soap dispenser?!? I hate to think about the hygiene rates for their students there. Oh, and what is it about institutional toilet paper? Do you think they could possibly make it any thinner?!?
Anyways, the transition is always a bit rough. I came home completely wiped out, even though all we did was sit in meetings all day. I look forward to settling into a daily teaching routine, when I can start to feel my energy levels returning to normal...
... and feel like it is completely normal to do my hair & face & fully clothed outfit & crazy commute every single day.
Welcome 2012-2013 school year.
Farewells
Summer is ending.
I hate endings.
Really. I have had such a good summer! I have slept in more often than not. I had one and only one goal this summer... exercise. So, when my daily workout was complete, I was off the hook and could be as lazy as possible! I have spent quite a few days playing at the pool with my little nieces, aged 3 and 18 months. Those are some fun times! I've been biking all over the valley, hiking, kayaking, windsurfing, swimming, running, having backyard bonfires... and all with no schedules! I usually take off the watch for the summer, but this summer I kept it on because it is a waterproof lap timing watch that is useful when I swim.
And despite the lovely rash, I have enjoyed every single moment of this summer!
But it is almost over.
I officially go back to work next Thursday (a week from tomorrow, gasp!), but I still have to go put my classroom back in order before then. I won't get paid for it, of course. It just seems to be another one of those ways that teacher get taken for granted. We are expected to have a classroom put together and ready for the school year, but we aren't given the paid time in which to do it. I am not complaining, though. My classroom is easier to set up than most, and I know many of the other teachers I work with have already spent many hours in the school getting ready for school to start. I am likely the last one to straggle in and get my room ready.
But this post isn't just about saying farewell to summer. An even bigger farewell happened just yesterday. Helena's boyfriend, Dagen, left today to serve a two year mission for our church. Yesterday they had to say their goodbyes. They won't be able to see each other, or even call/text each other during those two years, so they'll have to rely on more archaic forms of communication. I think they can e-mail (which is archaic to them) and they can certainly use snail mail. In fact, Helena is already planning some cute care packages to send his way.
She won't be putting her social life on hold for two years, however. She'll still go out with friends, and probably even date other guys. But I certainly hope she'll keep all her socializing very casual and friendly so that she is still single when he comes home. She'll only be 20 when he gets back, after all! Still too young to get married, in my opinion.
I'm not saying I want her to marry Dagen, either. I'm not ready to even entertain the thought, no matter who she ends up marrying. She got a wedding invite in the mail today for a girl she was in Orchestra with! This girl was a senior when she was a junior. So she is getting married at the age of 19. Gah! That freaked me out. I remember her from when I volunteered as a chaperon on an orchestra trip and it blows my mind that she is stepping from childhood so early. Nineteen is still a teen, after all!
Phooey. I'm rambling. My thoughts on the whole subject are rather pointed and skewed by the fact that I am the mother. I am just happy for her to keep living at home, and... how do I say this? I am happy for her to have this experience of dating a boy who is willing to put his life on hold for two years over his religious convictions. I'd have felt the same if he went and joined the Peace Corps for those two years if that was his passion. It shows he is a young man of purpose and character, and I am glad she chose such a fine young man to be her boyfriend. So I don't see this farewell as a tragedy. Rather, I see it as a growing experience for both of them.
So, farewell, Dagen! You probably never knew exactly how I felt about you dating my daughter. What with the whole 'get home by curfew' business and being your girlfriend's parent, you probably thought I didn't like you. Quite the contrary. I think you are a fine young man! Good luck, do well, and you have all of us rooting for you back here at home.
Farewell!
I hate endings.
Really. I have had such a good summer! I have slept in more often than not. I had one and only one goal this summer... exercise. So, when my daily workout was complete, I was off the hook and could be as lazy as possible! I have spent quite a few days playing at the pool with my little nieces, aged 3 and 18 months. Those are some fun times! I've been biking all over the valley, hiking, kayaking, windsurfing, swimming, running, having backyard bonfires... and all with no schedules! I usually take off the watch for the summer, but this summer I kept it on because it is a waterproof lap timing watch that is useful when I swim.
And despite the lovely rash, I have enjoyed every single moment of this summer!
But it is almost over.
I officially go back to work next Thursday (a week from tomorrow, gasp!), but I still have to go put my classroom back in order before then. I won't get paid for it, of course. It just seems to be another one of those ways that teacher get taken for granted. We are expected to have a classroom put together and ready for the school year, but we aren't given the paid time in which to do it. I am not complaining, though. My classroom is easier to set up than most, and I know many of the other teachers I work with have already spent many hours in the school getting ready for school to start. I am likely the last one to straggle in and get my room ready.
But this post isn't just about saying farewell to summer. An even bigger farewell happened just yesterday. Helena's boyfriend, Dagen, left today to serve a two year mission for our church. Yesterday they had to say their goodbyes. They won't be able to see each other, or even call/text each other during those two years, so they'll have to rely on more archaic forms of communication. I think they can e-mail (which is archaic to them) and they can certainly use snail mail. In fact, Helena is already planning some cute care packages to send his way.
She won't be putting her social life on hold for two years, however. She'll still go out with friends, and probably even date other guys. But I certainly hope she'll keep all her socializing very casual and friendly so that she is still single when he comes home. She'll only be 20 when he gets back, after all! Still too young to get married, in my opinion.
I'm not saying I want her to marry Dagen, either. I'm not ready to even entertain the thought, no matter who she ends up marrying. She got a wedding invite in the mail today for a girl she was in Orchestra with! This girl was a senior when she was a junior. So she is getting married at the age of 19. Gah! That freaked me out. I remember her from when I volunteered as a chaperon on an orchestra trip and it blows my mind that she is stepping from childhood so early. Nineteen is still a teen, after all!
Phooey. I'm rambling. My thoughts on the whole subject are rather pointed and skewed by the fact that I am the mother. I am just happy for her to keep living at home, and... how do I say this? I am happy for her to have this experience of dating a boy who is willing to put his life on hold for two years over his religious convictions. I'd have felt the same if he went and joined the Peace Corps for those two years if that was his passion. It shows he is a young man of purpose and character, and I am glad she chose such a fine young man to be her boyfriend. So I don't see this farewell as a tragedy. Rather, I see it as a growing experience for both of them.
So, farewell, Dagen! You probably never knew exactly how I felt about you dating my daughter. What with the whole 'get home by curfew' business and being your girlfriend's parent, you probably thought I didn't like you. Quite the contrary. I think you are a fine young man! Good luck, do well, and you have all of us rooting for you back here at home.
Farewell!
Collegiate Compromises
Growing up, I was told "If you're not in school, you're paying rent... or, you can move out." Bill and I have said the same thing to our kids over the years, too.
But what do you do with the child who is working to save up for college, but doesn't have enough saved for tuition, yet? And has a difficult time making herself save the money she needs?
You create a win/win compromise situation.
Starting in September, Helena will pay us rent. Not the cheap I'm-living-with-my-parents-token-rent, either. Full blown high end rent. The kind of money she'd have to shell out if she was paying real people rent + car + gas + utilities + food. The difference, of course, is that we will be putting that money into a savings account for her to pay college tuition. If she moved out of the house for real, and had to start paying for all of those things, she'd never see that money again. When she is ready to register, the money will be there for her.
And if she bails on her college plans?
The money will become ours.
Everyone seems very happy with this arrangement. We'll see how it goes after a few months of rent paying...
But what do you do with the child who is working to save up for college, but doesn't have enough saved for tuition, yet? And has a difficult time making herself save the money she needs?
You create a win/win compromise situation.
Starting in September, Helena will pay us rent. Not the cheap I'm-living-with-my-parents-token-rent, either. Full blown high end rent. The kind of money she'd have to shell out if she was paying real people rent + car + gas + utilities + food. The difference, of course, is that we will be putting that money into a savings account for her to pay college tuition. If she moved out of the house for real, and had to start paying for all of those things, she'd never see that money again. When she is ready to register, the money will be there for her.
And if she bails on her college plans?
The money will become ours.
Everyone seems very happy with this arrangement. We'll see how it goes after a few months of rent paying...
Swimmer's Itch
How gross! Swimmer's Itch sounds as gross as it is.
In a nutshell, Swimmer's Itch happens when a person swims in shallow, warm water infested with a particular parasite that lives on ducks and other waterfowl. At a particular part of their life cycle, they float freely in the water hoping to hitch a ride on some bird. Swimmers become accidental hosts instead. However, humans aren't compatible hosts and the parasites die immediately after burrowing into the first layer of skin. Lovely. Then the itching starts.
I have been doing some of my swim training in open water rather than in the pool. Sometimes in Deer Creek Reservoir, sometimes in Utah Lake. Utah Lake is a nasty lake, I admit. For those of you who aren't local, Utah Lake is shallow, shallow, shallow. It can't be more than 50 feet deep in any given spot, and most of it is much shallower than that. It is a large body of water, but because it is so shallow, it is very warm. The current water temperature in the lake is 80* F. Deer Creek Reservoir is up in the mountains, and is a dammed body of water, so it is deep and much cooler. I'd say high 60's, low 70's on the surface.
So I think it is most likely that I got this Swimmer's Itch infection from Utah Lake. I have a fine rash that itches intensely across my chest and back, everywhere my swimsuit did not cover.
I couldn't sleep last night because it itched so badly! I wanted to rip my skin right off and finally ended up taking some night-time cold medicine just for the sleepy effect to help me get some rest.
Today I couldn't take it any more and went to the dermatologist. He prescribed a shot of something or other and some topical creams to put out the fire of the itch (they're not working!) and said I could use Benadryl, too. He also said it isn't serious and won't lead to any complications or dangers and that it is not contagious (obviously). It is just unfortunate because it is so very itchy.
The doc recommended avoiding the area where I most likely came in contact with the parasites in the water. Great. I am pretty sure I came into contact with the parasites at the race site. So the only thing I can really do is make sure to pour clean water over myself in the transition area and vigorously towel off before getting onto the bike. And I'll do the rest of my open water training at Deer Creek.
In the meantime, I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS CREAM TO MAKE THE ITCHING GO AWAY!!!!! Stupid parasites.
In a nutshell, Swimmer's Itch happens when a person swims in shallow, warm water infested with a particular parasite that lives on ducks and other waterfowl. At a particular part of their life cycle, they float freely in the water hoping to hitch a ride on some bird. Swimmers become accidental hosts instead. However, humans aren't compatible hosts and the parasites die immediately after burrowing into the first layer of skin. Lovely. Then the itching starts.
I have been doing some of my swim training in open water rather than in the pool. Sometimes in Deer Creek Reservoir, sometimes in Utah Lake. Utah Lake is a nasty lake, I admit. For those of you who aren't local, Utah Lake is shallow, shallow, shallow. It can't be more than 50 feet deep in any given spot, and most of it is much shallower than that. It is a large body of water, but because it is so shallow, it is very warm. The current water temperature in the lake is 80* F. Deer Creek Reservoir is up in the mountains, and is a dammed body of water, so it is deep and much cooler. I'd say high 60's, low 70's on the surface.
So I think it is most likely that I got this Swimmer's Itch infection from Utah Lake. I have a fine rash that itches intensely across my chest and back, everywhere my swimsuit did not cover.
I couldn't sleep last night because it itched so badly! I wanted to rip my skin right off and finally ended up taking some night-time cold medicine just for the sleepy effect to help me get some rest.
Today I couldn't take it any more and went to the dermatologist. He prescribed a shot of something or other and some topical creams to put out the fire of the itch (they're not working!) and said I could use Benadryl, too. He also said it isn't serious and won't lead to any complications or dangers and that it is not contagious (obviously). It is just unfortunate because it is so very itchy.
The doc recommended avoiding the area where I most likely came in contact with the parasites in the water. Great. I am pretty sure I came into contact with the parasites at the race site. So the only thing I can really do is make sure to pour clean water over myself in the transition area and vigorously towel off before getting onto the bike. And I'll do the rest of my open water training at Deer Creek.
In the meantime, I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS CREAM TO MAKE THE ITCHING GO AWAY!!!!! Stupid parasites.
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