Tuesday, September 29, 2009


33 is right around the corner for me. And I am fine with that.

I like getting older. It doesn't bother me at all.
(Well, it doesn't bother me now. I make no promises about birthdays down the line, though. When my body starts to fall apart. Mike talks about that a lot. I hear a lot of "wait until you're 40's" from him as he's icing his back or his knee or any combination of body parts.)

Either way, getting older is way better than the alternative.

I (and anyone that knows me) would probably not consider me an old 33 year old.

I am fairly immature. And I am fine with that, too.

My sense of humor is pretty close to that of an 11 or 12 year old. On a good day.

(Mike's is, too...which works out well for us.) We laugh at such stupid stuff. Someone getting really angry, poop, terrible imitations of our kids, "The Diarrhea Song", etc. Whatever is getting a laugh in 6th grade is probably cracking us up, too. (I have been laughing at the "Diarrhea Song" since I first learned it a million years ago.)

Seriously, "you're sliding into home and your pants are full of FOAM"?? Come on. How do you not laugh? It's just so stupid.

Despite my juvenile sense of humor, I had an exchange with someone the other day that made me realize that I might be getting older....and probably a little more mature, too. And possibly, just possibly I caught a positive body image as well?

As I was leaving the gym, the lady who works in the KidsKlub (who knows how much I work out. Which, to her....and I guess most people, is a lot) and I were talking on our way to our cars. She asked me what I was doing for my workout tomorrow. After I told her, she stopped. Looked me up and down. Checked out my legs in my jeans. Cocked her head to the side and stated.

"You must eat a lot to maintain your weight with all you workout."

Um, excuse me?

I said, "did you just call me fat?"

She went on about how no, she definitely wasn't calling me fat, just that she liked that I wasn't stick skinny like some of the other moms that workout a ton.

Thanks??? Was that a compliment?

Yes, I am definitely not stick skinny. Especially in the leg area. I am not built that way.

It doesn't really matter what she said. Or what she meant.

What I loved is that I just didn't care. I didn't care if she really did think I was fat. I didn't care if she thought I ate all day and night long to keep me from being "stick skinny". What matters is what I think. And I think my legs are fast. I think they might not be if they were sticks. They're strong and I like them. Just as they are.

If I was 25, I would not be feeling this way. I know that for sure. I would be upset. A bold face upset, for sure.

I love being mature. :)

I'd better run now since I just slid into first and felt something burst.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

My drug of choice.

It's been 14 months since we had any. Any at all it seemed like.

The nights were the worst. I really, really wanted it then. But, then again, the late afternoon is when the cravings got strong again.

We missed it. We got cranky. We really wanted more...we NEEDED more.

Then I got a taste.

And then another. And then a few more.

And now I can't stop.

I am strung out on sleep.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

I missed you, old friend. Remember back in high school, when we could hang out together until 11 or 12 on the weekends? Yeah, that was fun. And college? Wow. We'd spend A LOT of time together then...2 pm some days.

It's my new drug.

Ahh...pure, wonderful, blissful, smiling-when-I-shut-off-the-light-at-night sleep. The smile is because Alice is FINALLY sleeping through the night. And not the "5 hours at a stretch is sleeping through the night" BS that you read in the baby books, she's going from 7:15pm to sometimes (gasp!) 7:30am.

(Insert hallelujah chorus sound efx)

It appears that the tubes in the ears/weaning combination was the magic pill we searched for these past 14 months.

The sad, strange thing is that with all the extra shut eye I am getting, I covet it even more. Like, there is no way I am setting my alarm for 5am to swim tomorrow, when I really should. I will get my swim done, but not at 5 when it is easy to knock it out. I will do it at 10, when it's kind of a pain in the ass.

I can't help it.

I missed you, so, Sleep. Welcome back. Please don't leave us again.

Monday, September 21, 2009

It's biblical.

This rain.

Seriously, they should be rounding up two of everything soon and loading them up onto an arc.

Cats and dogs since last week. Woof. And Meow.

I posted as a joke on facebook that I was giving up my gym membership since I could now swim laps in my backyard, before seeing that Joe actually did. And took pictures. He's now sick...not sure if there is a relationship between the two, but I'd venture to say that swimming in that stuff doesn't make you healthier. (Feel better soon, Joe.)

Atlanta does not get this kind of rain.

It is all people can talk about. (Me included. Apparently. And I am not normally a weather-talker kind of person). But, when the main highway in the city closes down, people's homes are getting swept away, schools are closed, a state of emergency is being declared, I guess it is okay to be a weather-talker kind of person then. If not, you're just kind of irresponsible, right?

I took this picture off our deck at 2 pm. Not AM. It is that dark out. And the raindrops are that big.

Must have footwear in the ATL this week.

Mike got drenched just walking in the house from work. Where he was promptly attacked by some water monsters.

The insanely brave roofer caulking a leak in our roof. I took the picture then had to walk inside. I couldn't handle watching him up there that high.

The parking lot of the girls' school. And that was this morning...and it rained ALL DAY.

E enjoying the "end of days". :)

Ugh. My long brick that I was actually looking forward to tomorrow (both girls in school...right on the route where I ride) now means trainer to treadmill long brick while Alice naps and E (hopefully) watches a movie. Both of which, almost never happen, simultaneously.

Now it's getting personal, rain.

We escaped the rain this weekend to make the trek to wonderfully dry Winston-Salem to watch the Deacs beat up on Elon. Always fun to see my college buddies. Even with Alice yelling in the car for roughly 90% of the 10 hour roundtrip drive. This has to be a phase. It HAS TO be.

This is something we never got to do in college. Tailgate. Soccer season and football season being the same darn season and all.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I Heart Fall.

And while it's not actually fall according to the calendar, and definitely not according to the sweat dripping off my face while playing outside in the afternoons with the girls....I know it's close.

I can smell it.

It smells like hay rides, fall festivals, mums, those cinnamon brooms they sell in the grocery stores (the smell so strong, they make your food taste funny if you make the mistake and put them in the kitchen. I know from experience), candy corn, piles of leaves big enough to jump in.

I can't wait for the smell of someone else's fireplace burning while I'm running, the smell of arm warmers, leg warmers, FLEECE!, jeans, any non-flip flop kind of shoe, all the wonderful fall clothes. Welcome back long sleeves.

I am sniffing the end of the triathlon season coming (final race on 10/4) and the beginning of the off season (Silver Comet Half Mary 10/31). (What's a good costume that's comfortable to run in? Taking suggestions.)

The smells of pumpkins, spiders, costumes and decorations are keeping me awake at night.

I can't wait for my favorite part of fall...Halloween.

I love Halloween with a strange and unbridled passion. I don't really know why....I just do. After discussing with Mike, multiple times, my uber-involved ideas for Halloween decorations, party invitations, costumes for me, him and the girls....he finally gave me this look. A "you're a little off, aren't you, about this holiday" look. Followed by a firm, "We're setting a budget this year."

Okay, boss man. 20 Grand should cover it...

Some of last year's best smells...

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Tugaloo Oly Race Report

aka "The Day I Quit Triathlon Forever".

I think Chris Cornell says it the best "I fell on black days".

Although, I am pretty sure he's not talking about triathlon.

Yeah...so not a great race for me. And by not great, I mean awful, horrible, no good kind of race. It was such a bad day for me, I don't really even want to remember it again to write this. But, I should....so I can (hopefully) learn from it.

It was basically as follows, a swim I was proud of, a bike that wasn't embarrassing, and a run that was.

And it is not necessarily my times that I am embarrassed by, it is how I dealt with them that I am not proud of. I just fell apart out there. Wanted to be home with my girls and husband not suffering out on this hillier than hell run course. The only thing that kept me from quitting was the fact that I didn't know how to get back to transition. Honestly. That is the ONLY reason for me not DNFing.

Oh my, was I in a dark place on that run course.

Throwing up a few times didn't seem to brighten my mood any either. ;)

I quit triathlon.

More than once.

I quit training for anything.

Multiple times.

I questioned what is wrong with me that I insist on doing painful things to my body, like this.

On every damn hill.

I walked on the run.

I never walk on the run.

I talked it over with Jen afterward...I needed some perspective. I was bummed. (Very helpful...thanks, Coach.)

I have worked hard this season. And it just didn't come together for me out there today. It took a little bit of time to realize that it was a "bad race" and I am not a "bad racer" or ill prepared.

I was ready to race...and excited. But, apparently my body was not. I've been sick the past two weeks with first a stomach flu, then a cold. I think my body was just not ready to go hard for over two and a half hours. My body gave up starting on the bike, then my mind, on the run.

That is what I am so disappointed about. That I was so ready to quit.

Oh well, something to work on. I am not quite ready to quit racing. Nope. Not just yet. That was just the pain talking. :) One more tri this season in a few weeks and I am already psyched to go, go, go.

That is what is so frustrating, difficult, annoying and ultimately rewarding about triathlon. That you always, always have something to improve upon and the days that it all comes together for you are so rare and the result of so much hard work.

Much to my dismay, you cannot PR every race.

My splits....I ended up 3rd in my age group, which funnily enough is my best AG finish at Tugaloo.

Kate Parker 33 Roswell GA 4 25:26 2.2 1:56 3 1:20:46 19.4 0:54 5 50:48 8:12 2:39:48

Monday, September 7, 2009

Deacon Blues

That's what I've got today. (Demon) Deacon blues, that is.

I am not talking about that Steely Dan song, which apparently has nothing to do with Wake Forest, or the Demon Deacons, or me not playing soccer as a Deacon any longer. Like most Steely Dan songs, I have no clue what it is about.

I am just not that smart. Or that high.

But the blues, yes, they're not really about missing soccer so much. (That's what triathlon is for, silly.) Mostly missing my teammates, joking around with them, traveling with them, having 20 sisters that you spend almost 24 hours a day with in-season. Team sports rock. Especially for girls. Man, I really hope my girls play sports. It is like a free pass to avoid the typical teenage girl hysteria re. boys, weight, cliques, etc. Well, not a free pass, but it certainly helps tone that crazy girl s*** down a bit. :)

I digress...what had me thinking about this today were a few things...(1) Our Wake Forest alumni soccer weekend coming up -- so excited for that and (2) this awesome gift that Mike masterminded for me.

That's my uniform. And it's framed. With pictures underneath. On my basement wall. Super-cool.

This ultra flattering picture embarrassed the crap out of me my sophomore year. And it was on the schedule cards. Doubly embarrassing for a 19 year old. (As an almost 33 year old, I think it's awesome. I am working hard and it shows. What's to be embarrassed about??)

What I really should have been embarrassed about was this picture.

I am about 2 feet away from touching my toes. Even with Amanda (who now lives 2 miles away from me!) pushing me down.

That's embarrassing.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

My new job

My blog is mad at me. I've neglected him....her?

T'is true. My apologies.....um, blog.

I've been busy, what can I say. I got a new job....

With one tough a$$ boss. I call her "the boss" (I am too busy for clever names, people). She yells and screams at me all day long. Not even taking the time to clarify my job responsibilities. Just one ear splitting scream after another and another, followed by a haphazard finger point to whatever passing whim she wants me to bring her, get for her, do for her, feed her, make for her.

My "superior" expects a lot. I am supposed to divine from grunts and crude hand signals very nuanced and complicated things like "yes, I want the grapes in front of me. And yes, I want to eat them. You, lady, are going to feed them to me. NOW. If you take that bowl of grapes away from me and give them to my sister, even if you keep a few grapes here for me to eat, I will scream in your ear until you return the bowl to its rightful place. The bowl is mine. Got it?"

Annie Sullivan, I am not.

I am finally on a break now. The boss is sleeping.

In addition to my new "job", we've been busy cramming a ton into the rest of the summer before school starts next week for E (and the Boss, too. She's signed up to go with E 2 days a week.)

End of summer fun includes....

Slippin' and slidin'

S'mores makin'


Cupcake makin' (That's Ming Ming from Wonderpets. E HOUNDED me for months to make these things. How-to was on Noggin about every ten minutes.)

Cupcake eatin'

Playroom loungin'

Beggin' (That's the boss in action. Screaming for some oatmeal off her big sis.)


And mastering the art of runnin' while talkin'