cape fear

 

 

I realized something last Saturday night after Husband casually mentioned that he wasn't going to our Triathlon training at the beach the next day: I was completely relying on him to be able to go myself. I didn't feel capable of doing my first ocean swim of the season if he wasn't there. Even though he hasn't been training with me or been to practices with me, in my mind the reason I was strong enough to do this swim was because of Husband.


I had a personal mini meltdown on my bathroom floor after this. I closed the bathroom door and just let myself cry. I came up with a million and one excuses why I didn't have to go the next day to do the ocean swim. None of which seemed like the truth. My conversation with myself went something like this:


Me: I'm not going tomorrow, I can't go, I just can't do it. 
Myself: You're afraid. 
Me: I just can't.
Myself: Well, if you don't go tomorrow then you'll just have to do the first ocean swim next weekend after that...
Me: But it will be just as awful! I can't do it next weekend either! This is horrible.
Myself: I suppose the real question is, if you can't go this weekend or next weekend, when will you go?
Me: I don't know! My life is too busy, too complicated, I can't do all this! I can't have a family and do this stupid triathlon!
Myself: If you can't go to the training, then why are you doing this triathlon?
Me: wait,... what?
Myself: you heard me. if you can't even go to a practice then why are you doing this at all?
Me: After all the practicing and training and I won't even be doing the Triathlon...
Myself: pretty much.
Me: Oh.
Myself: So, do you want to do the triathlon anymore?
Me: What do you mean? I love doing this! I feel like the real me when I do this.
Myself: Then I guess you're going tomorrow.
Me: I guess I am, but how?
Myself: One moment at a time. Do not think beyond that moment.
Me: literally? Like now I shower, now I dry off, now I get into the car...like that?
Myself: Exactly.
Me: How can I do this alone without Husband?
Myself: Are you kidding? Just do it, stop thinking.


...and so I did. I got up and I went through my day, one tiny step at a time. I almost turned the car around four different times, no joke. I even got to the beach, got out of my car saw my group and thought to myself: "I'm gonna go look at the water and then I'm going home". As I turned back from the ocean towards my car I saw my friend who I was supposed to swim with. I knew then I couldn't leave. Mostly cause I would look like a crazy weirdo. I told myself "just put your wetsuit on then you can go home." and after that it was "just walk down the beach with everyone and then you can go". Then finally it was " just get out past the waves..." 


I ended up doing the entire triathlon that day with a full swim, bike and run, and I felt good. The best feeling was driving home knowing that I did it, that I conquered the beast of fear. I knew that the longer I waited the uglier it was going to get. Fighting it was so hard, I wanted to give up so many times that I stopped counting, but I did it. Husband was really proud of me "of course you did it. I never doubted you could".

Until next weekend....

4th of July in pictures

Moma got a little excited that we had the day off work and drank a little too much wine the night before, started the day with a smidge of a hangover...

 meanwhile The Toot is in his room wearing his Elton John glasses and chatting with Elmo.

Husband made us a nice breakfast

playdough time, I made Tootie a sculpture of Dada

I think Dada liked it too

patriotic moments at Vons

Party time, my house fills with children

There were kids everywhere, in every room I would find a child. At one point I even found a kid in a closet.

...and toys strewn all over the house.

we had two pregnant ladies, one set of twins, lots of little ones running around and a plethora of animation folk - my favorite combination.

babies lounging pool side

The Parisian cafe was full to the max!

Best friend #1 reading to the kids. I forgot that kids flock to a person with a book. I love that.

Pregnant best friend #2 enjoying a nice Robot hug

A ride in the wagon to go see fireworks and The Toot realizing he likes older women...

Ahhhh fireworks!!

 The boys enjoying the show

 Moma also enjoying the show

 The Tooties badass ride home

 I think everyone else was jealous. I know I was.

 All tuckered out, its hard work playing and watching fireworks all day.

My weekend in pictures

Friday and ready for the weekend

The Toot at preschool friends b-day party enjoying a Toot sized cupcake and covered in bug bites. Those other parents must have thought he had the plague. They pretended not to notice which was nice of them.

The Toot in the ball pit at the party. He looks a little dazed here, but I think he had fun.

who can resist a tiny stove? Not me.

A tiny kitchen to go with the tiny stove. The Toot was also clearly taken with the tiny stove but alas those bossy girls wouldn't let him near it in his tiny car...

I like things with numbers

The Toot at toys R us. I like to give him a few minutes of fantasy time in the car section before we leave.

Me terrified sunday morning before leaving for my first ocean swim of the season.

My bike in the truck ready to go...

 My bike in my car once I realized the truck wasn't working

 Got home to Husband working on the yard.

 He built a new fence!

 Toot decided to water the roof with the new hose

 Hose now back in the pool where it belongs

 Momas new lounge chair cushions!

 Momas happy

My so called French life

You know when you have one of those weeks where you want to quit your life? Like I'm getting my resume together and I'm outta this stupid life! Last week was that kind of a week for me. I had to put my old Cat that I had since college down, by myself. Husband was working 12 hour days on top of being sick and very cranky, and Toddler had just started preschool full time and was biting other kids! By Friday I was done, I was ready to hand in my resignation letter and start a new life over from scratch.

Here's what I decieded my new life would be: I would move to France and live alone in a small yet tastefully decorated 'flat' near Paris, where I would work my own hours in an art gallery. I would be the kind of person who went on 'holiday' and never wore underwear. I could eat cheese daily and  never get fat. I would be the bohemian dressed woman at the cafe drinking wine in the afternoon while reading a book and smoking hand rolled cigarettes. I would have many young french boyfriends whom I wouldn't understand, cause I don't speak frnech, but it doesn't matter because talking wouldn't be important. I would be independtly wealthy and would never have to worry about my monthly daycare bill or my rent....

So I ask you, if you were to quit your life and get a new one what would it be?

 

  

Woman in training

First brick of the season. What the hell is a brick? It's when you do two out of the three excercises that make up a triathlon, back to back. So for example: on Sunday, we rode the bike 20 miles and then we ran for 20 minutes right after. This gets one used to the horrible feeling of trying to do a second terrible excercise, right after you just did the first terrible excercise.


Todays ride included this hill that everyone is always complaining about. Its this long upward sloping hill at the end of our ride, that you do once you've passed the beginner phase in the training. It gets you ready for all the rolling hills in the actual Triathlon. Here's how I feel about it: its not that bad. I'm being honest when I say that this particular hill is do-able. I could really see how far I have come in a year with my training. Now, lets talk about what it's really like while you are actually doing it. At first I feel like: "oh ok, I can do this- whatever". Then I feel like: "oh it's getting a little harder, gonna go into a lower gear". Then I feel like: "ok this is hard, but I can handle it." (my mom would be really proud to hear me say that, because she is always telling me that I can do and handle anything). Then comes the part where I start panting like a dog. I actually literally pant like a dog. I go so slow that I wonder how the natural rotation of the earth isn't making my bike fall over. I also feel incredibly angry. This happens to me every time I have to exert myself to this type of physical level- I have sudden onset rage that lashes out to the nearest victim. Today's particlar victim is a friendly team mate riding in front of me called Joel. In my mind I was screaming: "Fuck you Joel, I hate you. I hate those stupid blue bike shorts you're wearing". It's not something that I seem to be able to control. What I can control, is the ability to keep my lips pressed tightly together in a grip of rage, so that I don't spiral into a tourettes like shout down to my nearest biking companion. Followed by the rage, is elation. Once I have reached the top of the hill where we stop to gather with our group the ehileration high takes over. The elation is so intense that I find my self talking to strangers I have never spoken to before on the team, in teary eyed joy about what wonderful people they seem to be. The elation-high is as strange to me as the rage, because both although not foreign to my personality, are also not common for me either.


After the hill ride we then ran. Our instructions were to run 10 minutes out and then 10 minutes back in. If you've ever run after riding a bike you will undertsnad that this is not fun. Your legs feel like you're wearing 1980's moon boots that you can't kick off. You feel slower then a slug after zipping along on your bike. It's an ugly transition that often leaves you feeling like "what the hell is wrong with me?". I wasn't looking forward to doing this at all, but its better to do now then later, closer to the race. At least now I have time to get used to it.


So off we ran on the horse trail, I surprised myself by feeling good. Prancing along the trail with energy to spare, I looked around me for someone to share the good news with. When no one really looked like they wanted to chat I stopped at a porta potty to quickly pee after holding it for too long. If you have ever used one then you know that porta pottys are not awesome. They are however a nesscessity when on the road. This particular one was drenched in diareah. Not just the seat mind you, but everywhere- as if someone had put a sprinkler spiget into their butthole and sprayed the area down generously. I spent my entire time peeing marvelling at the mere accuracy of every surface being covered. I was so distracted by this that I forgot to lock the door and was shocked and mortified when a fellow team mate flung the door open. I don't know this particular women on the team, nor have I ever spoken to her before, yet I was compelled to explain to her why I was peeing over the mens urinal. That I was trying to save myself  from the diraaeha booth of death by squatting over the one area I could actually still see. After I relayed this long detailed explaination to this stranger, where I had rudely interruped her previous buisness with my long and laborious bathroom story, she then introduced herself to me. This is when the realization hit me that I am truly crazy. You know how after you have been talking to someone for a while, and then the person pauses and looks you dead in the eye and introduces themselves to you, that they are one of two things: A) utterly amazed and glamorized by your fantatisc wit or B) so horrified by you that they want to know your name so when they re-tell the story later to their friends they have a name for The crazy.


I'd like to say that the training is going well, because it is...but I would be lying if I said that me training for a triathlon isn't very similiar to an episode of Laverne and Shirley. Until next time my friends...shcmeal, schmazel hosinpepper incorporated....