on orphaned socks

So I somehow lost one of my Drymax socks. However, in my last load of laundry, I did end up with a random sock I'd never seen before.

Am I a terrible person for keeping the random sock and actually using it tonight for my trainer workout when one of my neighbors may be looking for it this very second?

Not a hostage, just "adopted."

Don't answer that.

(And clearly I am having a very exciting Saturday night.)

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.

pull my zipper

So I got a new wetsuit.

And I spent a good portion of my evening attempting to try it on but failing miserably.

The downside of having three cats as roommates (besides cleaning up their poop and vomit all the time and chasing them with a spray bottle while yelling "No!"): There's no one to zip up your brand-new wetsuit for you. Which makes it really hard when you can't figure out if the wetsuit is too small or if you just didn't put it on right.

My lower back kind of hurts now from my unsatisfying solo zipper-pulling efforts.

(And yes, I wrote that sentence that way on purpose.)

Wait, it gets better.

This is the part where I cut off my feet and wait for the search party to find me, right?

And you wonder why I don't have my pro card.

everyone loves a good package

I came home from a work trip to New York (yes, the insane amount of travel continues) to find a package full of this:

My Team Coeur kit!

Of course, I immediately put these goodies to use. Because if I'm going to eat hot dogs wrapped in pancakes for post-run dinner (don't judge -- I've been traveling too much to go to the grocery store), I might as well do it with heart and courage. 

Also, the hat matches my bathrobe. And yes, that's the poop bathrobe.

And in case you are wondering, the kit is very good for carrying large ginger cats like they are infants. No chafing, and the top does not ride up. 

No angry kitty!

In all seriousness, though: I'm beyond stoked to be part of Team Coeur. And I can't wait to represent in New Orleans. The race becomes more and more real each day -- in fact, I had a brick workout today, and I have one again Saturday and another Sunday. And Coach Mark is pushing me in the pool -- lots of emphasis on sprinting and hard efforts. I still feel like a crazy person for having signed up for a 70.3 so early in the season, but a little insanity keeps life interesting.

choosing the right shoe

Tonight my world was turned upside down.

And no, it's not because the Vanilla Ice movie is on TV right now. (I can't believe such a thing actually exists. I can't believe I am watching it. The hair. The shaved eyebrows. The fluorescent, shoulder-padded clothing. Yikes.)

It's because I've discovered I'm no longer an overpronator.

After slipping and sliding through Annadel on a 7-miler in my LunarGlides, I went to Heart & Sole tonight to buy a pair of trail shoes. To help me choose, Alex, the guy at the store, took a look at the wear pattern on the soles of my current shoes.


As you can see, the outside edges of my shoes are extremely worn down -- almost bald. Alex explained this is a sign that my shoes have more stability than I actually need, so they end up making my feet roll outward, or supinate.

Then he put me in a pair of neutral shoes, and I ran on a treadmill while he video-taped my feet. When he played the footage back in slow motion, it was clear that my left foot actually supinates while my right foot only very slightly overpronates. He recommended a more neutral shoe.

This is the first time in my two years of serious running that anyone has told me I'm anything besides an overpronator and should be in something other than stability shoes. (Remember the Kayanos I was in just a year ago? Now that was some serious stability. And so many people told me that was what I needed.) I don't know if this means I've changed, or if everyone who has ever fitted me for shoes in the past has been completely wrong.

Alex went on to ask me if I've been having problems with pain in my upper leg (yes!) and said this is likely due to too much stability. Holy crap. Looks like new shoes may help solve my injury issues!

I left with a pair of Brooks Cascadias for trail running.


(Aren't they adorable? Chocolate brown and blue! Although they will probably be Annadel red in about a week.)