very sexy dream angel v-string pull buoy

Today got a little crazy with work and multiple health-related appointments (don't even ask about the tooth right now -- this is truly a never-ending saga of stupid) and other events, so I didn't get my swim in until later this evening.

And my swim had really, really long intervals (100s on 3:00 -- plenty of time to wonder about important things like if I fart while swimming, can other swimmers tell or do the bubbles just look like normal swimming bubbles) so it took me a really, really long time to finish the workout. As a result, by the time I was done, there was no one else in the pool area except me.

And The Random Lady in the Jacuzzi.

Who was very interested in my pull buoy.

Random Lady: "Where did you get that?"

Me: "This? I brought it from my house."

Random Lady: "It looks like it's from Victoria's Secret. It's their colors. Like if you buy $70 worth of panties, they give it to you for free. I would buy $70 worth of panties if they were giving that away."

(The cats in this photo give zero effs about swimming.)

I will never look at my pull buoy the same way again.

how to do it wrong

Fly to the Midwest for "vacation." Drink wine and Japanese whisky to celebrate finally being reunited with one of your favorite people in the whole entire world. Stuff your face with sushi in the shape of a dragon.

When you are so full you can barely function, waddle back to the apartment, where you will then decide there is no better time than now to adjust the road bike you rented. Allow your favorite person to then convince you it is a good idea to test the bike fit by attempting to ride down the hallway of his apartment.

Immediately crash into the wall on your left, bounce off of it, smash your face against the wall on the right and then end up in a heap on the floor, still clipped in to your pedals. Laugh hysterically while your favorite person tries to drag you back into his apartment before the neighbors come out and ask you why the hell you are riding bikes in the hallway in the first place.

Spend the rest of the evening trying to casually ice your face and appear totally nonchalant about your human pinball impression. Fail completely.

But still somehow manage to get up the next day for a five-hour ride.

Complete the ride, despite the fact that your right shifter is now crooked and your face is so sore it hurts to smile. Pray that your favorite person's family doesn't notice the bruise that is slowly but surely forming on your cheek.

(That may or may not be a Timberwolves shirt.)

Watch helplessly as the bruise gets progressively greener every day.

Return to Seattle. End up on the train back from the airport next to a strange man who is wearing nothing but a bedsheet. When he smiles at you, think: "Wow, Mr. Bedsheet is really nice and maybe isn't all that big of a weirdo!"

And then realize you have a bruise on your face, so Mr. Bedsheet may look sane in comparison.

work event, by the numbers

1: Major fundraising events benefiting a good cause but resulting in complete and total brain-frying

6: Guests hosted on a four-day media tour during the fundraising event

1: Guests who grew up in the Depression Era and didn't believe in wasting anything and downed every single glass of wine and got tanked and stood up in the middle of winery appointments and announced: "We are all so grateful to be here, but I have to leave right now"

1: Guests who received the nickname "Drunk Grandma" 

3: Cloth napkins used by Drunk Grandma during a dinner (which she left early) because she kept dropping them on the floor

1: Incidents involving Drunk Grandma sleeping in public

1: Incidents involving Drunk Grandma getting lost at Hempfest because she was grateful for her guided food tour of Seattle but had to leave "right now"

1: Incidents involving Drunk Grandma yelling at me for leaving her bag in a car only to discover she had the bag with her the entire time

1: Incidents involving Drunk Grandma forgetting her credit cards and ID in the hotel safe after she checked out

11: Frantic texts/calls between public relations people and/or the hotel to obtain the forgotten credit cards and ID and return them to Drunk Grandma

0: Wallets found in a hotel safe containing Drunk Grandma's credits cards and ID

2: Envelopes found in a hotel safe containing Drunk Grandma's credit cards and ID 

I can't even make this up.

3: Workouts missed because of the tour

8: Weeks left until Ironman Louisville

99: Percentage of guilt and stress due to missed workouts

3: Steaks consumed out of stress

1: Cocktail dress worn despite the steaks

3: Awkward cocktail dress photos taken with a toilet in the background

I also can't make this shit up.

1: Photo that says it all

1: Whiskey consumed at the Octopus Bar with Annie when it was all over

misadventures, per usual

So I was just now Googling "chocolate poo mold." Because I'm doing Swim for (Dear) Life again next week and our team is Team Fecal Coliform Bacteria (which is why you should never let me name anything) and no one has donated to my fundraising page (which is here, in case you would like to change that) and I'm hoping to entice people with homemade chocolate poo. (My logic is flawless, thank you very much.)

Anyway, since this post has pretty much already gone down the toilet, yesterday my bike peed herself. 

Mouse's first instinct: Play in it!

You'll recall I'm having hydration setup issues, so this time, I decided to give Minivan's built-in bladder system a shot. I followed the directions, and everything seemed fine until I poured liquid into the bladder and my bike started peeing.

The problem: The straw kept getting disconnected from the bladder, and then all the liquid would seep out.

I was under a bit of a time crunch yesterday (this is what happens when the man who cuts your hair is the type who doesn't talk at all while he does the deed so you think maybe he is silently judging you especially since you showed up at your appointment wearing a trucker hat because your hair was that bad and he actually kind of scoffed at the hat but then he does such an incredible job that you keep going back even though you wonder if maybe this is an unhealthy relationship), so I abandoned the bladder and relied on my bottles instead. (Thankfully, none of them fell out this time.)

Of course, because the universe has a twisted sense of humor and seems to want to toy with my stress levels, I got stuck in a footrace 30 minutes into my ride.

I re-routed and got back on track. Although not without a lot of grumbling and also my heart rate monitor wasn't working and I was still frustrated by the peeing incident and it was really tempting to just go home and get on the trainer. But eventually I got over it all and regained a more positive mindset.

Only to get stuck in a second footrace.

Not shown: The spectator who asked if I brought lunch to pass the time.

At this point, I was convinced the universe wanted me to have bad hair. But all those people eventually passed, and I got my ride done. It was long and slow and cumbersome -- still trying to build that relationship with Minivan. Shifting is coming more naturally, and my neck and shoulders are hurting less, but I still find the rear water cages awkward and am a bit too fidgety with positioning.

However, at least things with nutrition are going well. I really love this stuff. It may replace the hot dog for me. (Which is a good thing, since carrying a hot dog around for hours in your jersey pocket sort of seems like an invitation for food poisoning.)

I guess I did bring lunch. Mmm. Pizza.

I eventually finished my ride. And then I did a T run (because I'm only nine weeks away from Ironman now -- gah). And then I came home and found this on the living room floor:

That would be the attachment for the new hydration system.

I almost put her on Craigslist.

And that wasn't the only surprise.

Nothing like piles of cat puke to warm the heart.

However, I did make it to my hair appointment on time. And I was so tired from my workout that I barely noticed the judging and was actually pretty thankful for the silence and lack of small talk.

maiden voyage, at last

Let's talk about this:

So I spent my entire tax refund on this bike, which I put a deposit on and ordered in April. But then I didn't actually pick up the bike from the store until June because I needed to save up for the remaining cost. And then I didn't actually ride the bike outside until yesterday because I needed to pay for a bike fit and then buy a new hydration setup (because this bike has an internal bladder system, and I'm not sure I like it), which cost, oh, $250.

Recent conversation at the triathlon store:

Me: I'm about to drop hundreds of dollars on something that holds water bottles.

Triathlon store guy: Well, it's better than a coke habit.

Touché, triathlon store guy, touché.

Anyway, so Money Pit Minivan and I finally went on our first date yesterday. I took the above photo before I attempted to climb aboard. And yes, it was a climb. Because the rear hydration setup and my stubby little legs means I am pretty much doing Utthita Hasta Padangustasana (I only wrote that because I'm a jerk and I want to laugh as you to try to pronounce it -- really, it's just a fancy yoga term for holding your leg up like you're about to pee on a tree) to get on the bike.

And I immediately discovered the bento box totally doesn't work unless I want my gels practically in my crotch. So after getting rid of the bento box and stuffing the gels in my jersey pockets, Minivan and I were on our way.

Impressions:

• Minivan is a fast bitch. Really, ridiculously fast. And a smoother ride than Muppet. (Although that could also be because Muppet is in need of some maintenance right now. Which -- surprise, surprise -- I am still trying to save up for.)
• Minivan is also much more sensitive -- I could feel the crosswinds. 
• I need to get used to shifting gears in aero. However, I really like how much easier it is to tell what gear you're in because of where the shifter is pointing.
• I need to get used to being in aero, period. The position feels much more aggressive on Minivan than it does on Muppet. My neck and shoulders got really sore. (Maybe the fit needs a little tweaking?)
• I'm not sold on the rear hydration setup. I randomly lost a bottle riding around Lake Sammamish -- and it wasn't even the bottle I had been drinking out of.
• People stare at me on this bike. I don't know if it's because I look like an idiot or a badass. Sometimes I think there's a very fine line between the two. 

We did 74 miles yesterday. Kind of long for a first date, but I was never really one for moderation.