Monday, November 24, 2014

british invasion

I'm in England and it's after 2 a.m. here and I just popped an Ambien, so if this post gets a little nutty, it's not my fault.

However, it may be my fault that I'm in England instead of Paris. Let's just say there was a small issue surrounding my passport's expiration date. (Haven't we already established how much I suck at dates? Oh wait. That sounds weird. But possibly also accurate. You don't win fans with stories about your cats' worms. Oh wait. That also sounds weird. Dear god.)

Anyway, so I am in England because I figured I have the days off and the suitcase and the miles. And the cat sitter is at home, earning money to put her future children through college.

So I asked the airline: "Where can you send me?" And this is where I ended up.

I haven't been here since 2005. Which also happens to be when my passport photo was taken. I told the customs officer it was my "fat picture." She laughed and called me "darling."

I like that I made the customs officer laugh. They are people too, you know.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! That is all.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

I'm on youtube!

I've spent the past few days wondering how to write about Ironman, how to capture the range of emotions that accompanied the event, how to express my overwhelming gratitude for my family and friends and Coach Mark and everyone who supported this ridiculous endeavor.

And I stared and stared at the computer screen and couldn't come up with words.

Thankfully, Bri used me as a guinea pig for an interview project, so instead of reading about Ironman, you now get to listen to me talk about it and watch me make stupid faces.

(And speaking of gratitude, I'm eternally in debt to Bri for not portraying me as a crazy cat lady who lives in filth.)

I will eventually write about the race and the days leading up to it and what has happened since. But right now I'm on a 24-hour layover in Chicago, where I've been stuffing my face ...

Ironman appetite!

... and admiring the view.

I'm about to head to back to the airport to catch a flight to Paris (can't stop won't stop don't wanna stop). More later, more soon.

Monday, November 10, 2014


So you're probably wondering where the hell I've been.

The answer:

Last Tuesday, exactly 12 days from race day, I came down with a horrible lung infection that knocked me out for four days. It was so bad that I got winded walking to the kitchen. And going from my car to the pharmacy made me so tired I was seeing spots. I ended up getting a chest X-ray because I was convinced I had pneumonia. (Side note: When you get a chest X-ray, don't wear a see-through shirt. Because even though you keep your shirt on for the X-ray, you have to take your bra off, so if you're in a see-through shirt, the whole point of the shirt is pretty much moot, and then the X-ray guy gets a free show. Not that this happened to me or anything.)

Thankfully, no pneumonia. Just a viral infection that was exacerbated by my asthma. (Yes, I have asthma. And it's allergy-induced, so it never rears its ugly head unless I eat gluten or pop an aspirin -- or apparently, come down with a horrible lung infection 12 days before Ironman.)

Now I'm trying to recover as much as I can for Sunday's big race. I had a successful trainer workout over the weekend -- easy, mellow Zone 2 stuff at a high cadence. This made me very happy.

(Just FYI, that white thing is my bike saddle, not a penis.)

Pervert kitten says, "Mom took off her shirt! Gasp!"

I also had a good swim yesterday -- coughed a little at first, but once I warmed up, breathing was fine.

Running, however, is another story. I managed 30 minutes of run-walk-cough-curse Saturday morning, covering a whopping distance of two miles.

But I'm hopeful. Each day seems better than the previous one, so maybe by this weekend, I'll be feeling like myself again.

Six days!