Coming clean.

Confession time.

I don't always do all my workouts that Jen gives me.

I can hear your horrified gasps.

I try to. But, sometimes the swims (and lifts) get pushed aside in my mom-world of sick kids, didn't-get-any-sleep-last-night-so-there's-no-way-in-heck-I-am-getting-up-at-5am-to-stinking-SWIM nights, the I'd-like-to-see-Mike-at-night-instead-of-doing-a-core-workout days.

And sometimes, I cut the workouts that I do short. Yes, you heard me. Short.

Now that is mostly just pure laziness.

Granted, this is not often and not a habit. But it does happen.

It has to. Triathlon is not my job.

Someone has to be Chief Laundry Officer of Parker Incorporated.

Oh, yeah and something else.

My diet.

Not so good. I thought it wasn't too bad. But, then I read Jen's post about Bird Food and realized that is all I ate. Pria bars were the base of my food pyramid. Then I wrote down everything I ate for a few days and emailed that to Jen. She seemed to think that I had um, let's say, a little work to do cleaning up my diet. (I eat way, way too many processed things, not enough protein, or vegetables.)

Feels much better now that is off my chest. :)

So why am I spilling the beans? Accountability for one.

I really want to race well at USAT Nats in less than a month and plan on working my butt off until then. By (1) doing all my workouts AS PRESCRIBED. No cheating. No cutting it short, etc. (2) cleaning up my diet. Eating more healthfully. And smarter. I am such a creature of habit that I just eat what I have always eaten for most meals without thinking about what is in it. Regardless of whether or not it was good for me. Or if it fueled my body for the hard workouts that I was doing. Then 10 minutes later I would be starving again.

Time for a change. Yahoo!

This is completely unrelated, but we just got back from visiting my brother at his lake house in Michigan for a party he hosts every year called, Lobsterfest. It is awesome, a ton of fun, people and yeah, lobsters. Duh.

Long, long drive. But the highlight was passing by Big Bone Lick State Park in Kentucky. And cracking up like 8 year olds. Twice.

One.

Happy, happy birthday, Allie.

One year old today. Wow. Did that ever fly by.

You are a special, funny, little...person now. No longer an infant, not really a toddler yet, just an awesome, little person. One that I can never ever resist picking up (who could when those chunky arms are raised in the air just begging for kisses?). Something just doesn't feel right if you are not chilling on my right hip.

You are changing every single day...especially these last few weeks. Eating everything we put in front of you now. Finally! Getting into everything. Everything. (I am so not used to this, we didn't really have to babyproof at all with Ella.) Dancing, pulling up, saying "Ella" and "yep". You are an amazing little lady. I love that I am your mom and have the privilege of watching you grow and change into who you are supposed to become. Happy Birthday, Alice!

You definitely have the head nod down.

A few things....

That last post was a bit of a lie. It was yesterday's view from the trainer, but I lost the remote posting email address until today.

Today's view was the black line of the bottom of the pool followed by me making an ass of myself skipping up the hill of our cul-de-sac then running back down. 8 times. I don't make the workouts, I just follow them, people. As if the neighbors don't think I am a weirdo already. Then a treadmill for the cool down. And some sweet soap opera watching. (I love the silent reactions the actors make before they cut away. It goes on way too long when they really should be saying something, but they don't. They just sneer or furrow their brow or something equally act-y. It is my favorite part. Some are really good at it. You gotta respect that. I normally would be watching "16 and Pregnant" or something else awesome like that, but we don't have all the cable channels in the exercise room. A pity for sure. Damn you digital conversion.)

Oh, Ella invented a new game. She calls it "baby jumping". As in, "Mommy, watch my new game! Baby jumping! Look!". Then, you guessed it. Jumped over a crawling Alice. First and last time she played that. Well, last time I witnessed her play it.

Alice turns one tomorrow. Oy. That was fast. We celebrated early yesterday with my mom and dad and some giant cupcakes. Alice's first ever. Like a duck to water...

Today's View from the Trainer

Yes, the trainer and I got some hot (literally. It's black and 2:30
in the afternoon here) track action...with a side of high school
marching band. Go Knights.

A typical progression

Ahh...what a beautiful day. It is so unusual for Georgia in July. We are not soaking through our clothes with sweat. Let's go outside and just relax on a blanket. Aww...the girls look so cute. Let me get a shot.


Okay. E....you're getting too close. Please don't hurt your sister. I know you love her, but be careful...


Here we go. Again.

Another view from the trainer.

1 Randy Moss wig-wearing 4 year old. 1 DVR'ed episode of the "lost" footage from the Real Housewives of NJ. Good stuff all around.

Racing the clock

That's was this weekend was all about. Racing.

Racing around to fit all the things we needed, then wanted, then just had to do in Chattanooga. (swimming, registering, sightseeing, eating, baseball game spectating, expo-ing, not sleeping, crying, whining, oh, and racing, too.)

Then, literally, racing the clock. When I got my wait listed race number Saturday (yahoo! Thanks, Team Magic!), I was placed in the 40-44 year old group. (Chatt is a time trial start by AG, then estimated swim time) So, I was nowhere near anyone in my AG (30-34).

Night before the race, we made mistake #1 (to be honest that was mistake #2, mistake #1 was even thinking traveling with the girls to a race was a smart idea)...bringing the girls to a 7:30 pm start time minor league baseball game. I love minor league baseball, but Mike really loves it. And it was walking distance from our hotel. This will be fun!

Fun turned into a 10:00 pm bedtime for Alice. We were back by 8:30, but had missed that "magic moment" where she will go to sleep and were now into a crying, screaming overtired "hell hour" before she finally gave in.

After that comedy hour, I had to organize my race stuff. Not so easy in a hotel room with 2 (barely) sleeping girls.

5am iphone alarm came way too early (Alice woke us up once or twice during the night, too). Shake the cobwebs off and am ready to go. This was the easy part. The race. Getting here? Not so much. Tiptoe around the room. Chow on my pre-race peanut butter bagel. Get dressed. Wake Alice to feed her. Try not to wake E. No luck. Wave goodbye to my sweet family.


E's race day attire.


Swim (1.5K --24:02)
I had done this race in 2006 and was not looking forward to the swim. I don't like point to point races. I don't like gross river water. So, the Chattanooga swim is not really my thing. I really loved it this year though. I felt great and strong and was passing people the whole time. Highly unusual. I think the spread out nature of the swim worked to my advantage. I don't swim too well in a lot of traffic. I don't like swimming on top of people. Or getting kicked in the face in the water. Call me crazy. I counted the bridges (3) to deal with my anxiety of not knowing how much farther I had to go. It worked. Saw Mike and the girls at the swim exit. Dad of the year right here....


(Thanks for the pictures, Lee! I totally stole it off flickr. Hope that's okay. :)


Bike (42K --1:18:06)
Hills. Lots of 'em. Just trying to hang on and maintain 20mph. For some reason, I had in my head that if I averaged 20 mph, I would be happy with that. Got to the 10 mile marker at exactly 30 minutes and then played a game of trying to make the 20 mile marker before an hour. Whatever works, right? As long as I did not go off course and pushed hard, I was happy. Head to transition. Avg. mph 20.0 YAY!

Run (10K -- 48:43)
I struggled on this run. Felt good the first 2 miles and then pow! I had nothing. No zip, no power. No legs. I kept thinking about Jen telling me to suffer. It was about going hard and suffering. I was suffering. Just not going very fast. I was prolonging the suffering by running slowly! Not very smart. I tried Angela's trick of telling myself I was "one tough chick" and to pick it up. No luck. My mile splits were still slowing. Then I started to look at the faces of people running towards me (it was an out and back run) and they were all suffering, too. Fast, slow...all in pain. All wanting (at least some small part) to stop. To slow down and they weren't. (Well, some were, but I was trying to be positive) I felt better knowing I was not alone in suffer-town. See the finish line. See Mike and the girls. Ahh....done. Sweet mercy.

Total time -- 2:34:02/4th AG

I am really happy with this! It feels good to finish well (for me) in such a competitive race. Nice to not make any huge race day mistakes...again. And my T2 was the 2nd fastest overall, even the pros. I am the T2 Champion of the world. Bow down. Kiss the hand.

We are home now and both completely exhausted. Thanks for the day off, Coach. I need it. I forgot how sore I would be after two and a half hours of anaerobic suffering. Wow. Those sprints I've been doing all year are a heck of a lot easier than this Oly bologna. :) It's the same amount of suffer, just more than twice as long. Glad I've delayed my next half IM until next year. Not ready for over 5 hours of it...yet.

Things never to do with kids.

Oh are there plenty.

(Be hungover is my #1. I have endured one and only one since having Ella over 4 years ago and the hellish nightmare that was the next day following "Mommy's night of fun" was so scarred into my brain that ever since after 1 or 2 at the most drinks, I am done. Just not worth the fun anymore, for me.)

Today, I had the perfect storm of things not to do with kids.

The bike store. Two kids. A leotard and a potty break.

I would not recommend any combination of the above. Ever.

Trust me.

So, I picked E up from gymnastics camp (hence the leotard). Headed to the bike store to have my bike computer moved so I can fit in my aerobottle for my race this weekend. (I am acting as if I am racing. As if there are no other alternatives. Power of positive thinking, right?)

Just getting all 3 of us and my bike in the store is enough to make me run screaming back to the safety of the car. Finally get in. They get to work on my bike. E tries to ride one of the kids bikes in the showroom. Falls. Cries. Alice is crawling. Everywhere. Past the yellow line that is off limits to customers as I deal with Ella's tears and convince her that yes, I am in charge and she is not to mount any more bikes, even if they are all for kids, mommy. E has to go to the bathroom. But, wants her "privacy". Fine. I head in just to help take off the leotard. I then get escorted out by the 4 year old in charge. Fine again. As I am checking on my bike, a naked 4 year old comes running out of the bathroom screaming "MOMMY, I WENT POO POO!! WANT TO SEE???"

I shook my head. Laughed. Went to see (of course). Then got ourselves the heck outta there.

And I wish I could say I learned my lesson and will never do that again. But, I know I will have to and I know it will be as much of a gong show as it was today.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Did you hear that?

Yes, that was me banging my head on the wall in frustration.

With myself.

My level of annoyance with me was already hovering near the mid-way point for messing up my race last weekend by riding the wrong way on the bike course. And adding 4 miles. Therefore, subtracting myself from any chance of an AG placing. (Sure, the volunteer pointed me in that direction, but, heck, I should have checked the course layout beforehand.)

I was over it pretty quickly though. Ready to move on to my race this weekend. Chattanooga Waterfront Tri. Did this race in 2006. Mike did it last year (I swear spectating with Ella sent me into labor with Alice. I had her 10 days later and spent a few of those days in the hospital trying to keep her cooking until 37 weeks!). It is a great race. Really competitive. Not too far from home. All good.

Our hotel is booked. And paid for. I am starting to taper (well, what Jen considers a taper. 100% different from my normal "don't do sh%# race week" taper. Taper? More like suffer.) I go on the race site to check to see what time to be there to register. Funny, I have not gotten any emails and I know I signed up for this race in December when I signed up for all my races this year.

Hmm...let's see who is racing in my AG.

Hmm....where's MY name?

Um, it is not there. Oh crap. Oh CRAP. OH CRAP!!!

I totally messed this one up. I have no idea what happened. Guess I just didn't actually pay the money for the race....or thought I had or who the heck knows?

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Level of frustration with myself just hit record levels.

I am currently wait listed. The Race Director (who was so nice) assured me that they have "never not let anyone in off the waitlist". But, I may not actually get a # until race morning. Argh. More stress.

Like racing. Away from home. With a 4 year old and an 11 month old wasn't doing it for me already.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

DO NOT follow this person on a bike course, nor trust them to register you for anything! Consider yourself warned.

Mile-stones

This may take me a long time to write. I am a loud typer (ist?) when I type fast and I don't want to ruffle any baby feathers.

I am sitting on the stairs outside Alice's room hoping she finally falls asleep.

It seems that my limited knowledge of the lyrics to the Carpenter's classic "Close to You" and my patented warble/sway combo is not doing the trick tonight. Every time I go in there, she's sitting up with the saddest look on her face peering through the crib slats at me. Looking like a baby in jail. And crying.

She's quiet now....CLACK. CLICKETY. CLACK. I AM TYPING LOUD AND FAST!

Alright, I am done celebrating the fact that we have two sleeping girls. But, man, that is always a nice place to be in the day.

Due to my inherent laziness and aversion to becoming (gasp!) a "scrapbooker", (I just can't go there. I can't. I've resisted your recruitment too long to give in now, Amanda:) Alice's baby book is essentially a book with important papers (i.e height, weight, stuff from the hospital, cards, etc.) shoved in the front and stuffed in a drawer. (Thank you...thank you...yes, I know. I am a wonderful mother.)

So no baby book. Yet. So, here is what I am going to include when I finally get it done...probably right around her wedding.

Alice at 11 months....

Crawled for the first time yesterday. Kind of late, but you never have trouble getting what you want. You frequent the army crawl, the roll and the scoot. Seeing you roll across the playroom floor to get a toy you want is hilarious.

You have 3 (almost 4) teeth now. 2 top and 2 bottom. The top ones are um, pretty large. Daddy has taken to calling you "man-tooth" now. Or Wes, for short.

I don't think I will ever wean you. I would if it were my choice. (Apparently, it is not.) I don't think you're going to allow such craziness to happen though. Not on your watch. You love it. Sheesh. I was going to try at a year....but I can see that is not going to happen. 13 months, kid. That's all you get.

"Dada" and "Mama" are your words. Good choices. I like your style.

You don't really like to sleep. At all. Ever. Okay, maybe that is overstating things. You do nap well. But, I think that we have 10, maybe 11 full nights of sleep since you've been born. Good thing you're cute.

You love to dance, giggle, rough house with your sister, pull on Annabelle's tail, throw (all of your) food to the floor, YELL, be held, be tickled, get baths, go swimming, have your feet eaten, pull Ella's hair (out!), and generally be the cutest baby in the world, 100% unbiased opinion here.

So those are Alice's 11 month milestones. To be included in a book. At a (much) later date.


My MILEstones? Ran, biked and swam a few over the weekend. I feel back on track after a sluggish week and ready to kick some a$$ (or at the very least ride the bike course correctly) at my first Oly race of the year in Chattanooga this weekend.

Weak Week

It is only Thursday, but I am ready to call it a week already.

My "race" on Sunday (and I use that term loosely) really took it out of me.

Must have been that extra 4 on the bike that really put me over the edge. :)

Well, either that or Alice's double ear infection (yes, again. We are working on ear infections 11 and 12, I believe) that made the poor girl sound the "wah wah" alarm 4-6 times a night.

Or it could my perma-sinus infection that came back this week. 3 weeks without one is my limit....apparently.

I am calling it. 10:28pm on Thursday. Week. Over. Done.

We ended it with a bang though...literally. Neighborhood fireworks tonight. Always fun. Mike came prepared to pass the time in our driveway waiting for the start.


Yes, that is a bottle opener on the bottom of his flip flop.


We got bored. Started having cartwheel contests. I won. Obviously.



My hero.


Mike's off tomorrow and we have a babysitter. Things are looking up already.