After all that bitching about the heat and getting ready for a warm ride yesterday and drinking Osmo PreLoad and obsessively checking the hourly weather forecast, this happened:
Yes, that would be a crosswind. And a very gloomy sky. And then there was thunder and lightning. And in typical dumb Michaela fashion, I found myself on a trail with water on one side and tall trees on the other, getting rained on while sitting on a piece of metal. Hello, lightning! Pick me! Choose me!
It also didn't help that when I sought shelter, I ended up in a very long conversation with another cyclist who told me all about how he's seen people get struck by lightning and how once a runner on The Very Same Trail was killed instantly.
I was happy to get home.
I forgot to mention I bought a new bike.
Her name is Minivan, a nod to the sexy vehicle Arvan and I rented for IMAZ last year. (Arvan to the rental car guy: "I want a swag car! We're doing an Ironman!" We ended up with a white minivan, complete with sliding door. I'm going to assume the rental car guy confused "swag" with "SAG.")
Anyway, because I made the adult decision to buy a brand-new bike and then got hit with unforeseen dental expenses, I now find myself in this situation:
I didn't really leave my house all weekend, except to sell clothes, use the money from selling clothes to buy a tart for a friend's wedding celebration and almost get struck by lightning.
I guess the denture is probably a good thing. I've had to learn how to bite and chew all over again, so I haven't really been eating much and therefore have not been spending any money on groceries.
Unfortunately, this means I've been exhausted during workouts -- I don't think I'm getting enough protein or even calories in general. And eating gels has been interesting, especially since I can only use the left side of my mouth to tear the packet open, and the actual gel gets stuck underneath the denture, which is super distracting.
Also another source of anxiety: I got my stitches taken out last week (there were six of them, all along my upper gumline, where the inside of my lip hits my nose). I asked the surgeon what the next step is. Her answer: "Come back in three months and we'll see if you're ready for your crown. Have a great summer!"
Three months from now is right before Ironman Louisville.
Three freaking months. I don't know if I'm more worried about the toothlessness or the countdown. Here we go again, folks!
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Temperatures have been in the high 80s. We are all melting. Please send ice cream.
(And yes, I realize Seattle has made me a complete wimp when it comes to heat. Mad props for the brave souls who are racing Ironman Coeur d'Alene tomorrow -- it's supposed to hit 106 there.)
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
I realized my last post started with the world's worst photo of me (unless you count this horrible nightshirt one and this equally hideous wetsuit one, of course), so I figured I should write something new and very long so the awfulness goes away. Because that's how the internet works, right? You bury embarrassing things with more embarrassing things and eventually everyone just forgets the earlier stuff because the new stuff is way more ridiculous and you come out looking like a winner.
I swear, I'm not still on pain meds.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is shortly after my surgery, I took my denture for a spin at a golf tournament. Which actually was a pretty good way to start venturing out into the world because golfers are apparently easily distracted, so you're not supposed to talk a lot, therefore I didn't feel too terribly self-conscious.
That is, until I saw this guy.
I don't really know anything about golf except that there is a ball and you're supposed to try to get it in a hole with as few attempts as possible. But I did walk the entire course (which was beautiful and hilly and dusty and vast). And I found myself following the 15-year-old golfer around (which subsequently made me feel really creepy). And I got stranded at a "crossing" in a giant crowd for a very long time and it was worse than trying to swim upstream at IKEA.
|The view from the deck of our hospitality tent.|
|My smile is only slightly crooked.|
And since I don't know what it means to stop and stay in one place, I flew to San Francisco yesterday for a media luncheon that included a lot of wonderful things I couldn't eat.
|Damn you, gluten.|
Thankfully the consolation prize of a bunless burger was tasty.
And while the work portion of my trip went well, the best part was getting to spend time with some of my favorite people in one of my favorite venues while watching my favorite team.
|Most diverse group at the stadium.|
MadBum set a new career high for strikeouts. And a shit-ton of seagulls swarmed the bleachers (which I think was actually Arvan's favorite part of the entire game). And I drank some scary form of sake that cost $10 and tasted like lemon juice with an entire box of sugar poured into it. And Himanshu joked that it would be hilarious if a foul ball hit me in the mouth and knocked out my other tooth. Yeah. That would be really hilarious.
Unfortunately, the Giants lost, but Layla and I were absolutely on point with our fish faces.
And I got to wear this hat.
I am back in Seattle now. And tomorrow I get my stitches out. Don't worry -- I will tell you all about it in way too much detail. I know you can hardly wait.