Triathlon report

Not sure my fingers have the energy to type this post, but I am willing them to. Last night my friend and I drove about 2.5 hours away to spend the night before our triathlon this morning. (Designed mostly for beginners, it was a 250m swim, 10mi bike ride, and 2mi run.) Even though we got rather lost, heading to Texas instead of the central part of the state by accident, we had an enjoyable road trip. We have basically exactly the same taste in music, so we sang until our voices hurt. We calmed ourselves in the frenzy of getting lost by listening to Hairspray. It's just soothing. "He's Corny!" Anyway, we went out for pasta and French bread in the attempt to carb it up bigtime and turned in at about 10:30. BBQ shrimp pasta is very good. So is The Wednesday Wars, which I didn't want to stop reading, but we decided it was best to turn out the lights for our 6 a.m. wake-up call. At about 1 a.m., the peaceful sound of the waterfall on my noise machine turned inexplicably to morning birdsong, which of course woke up up instantly. "WHAT THE ___?" I moaned, cursing and slapping the buttons until the waterfall came back. Somehow my friend slept through this, luckily.

We were up and out the door by 6:15 to head to our destination. We picked up our packets and got our numbers drawn on our arms and legs with big black markers and set up our bikes. Since I only did the swimming leg last time, the whole set up was new to me. I didn't even know how to hook the bike onto the little rack. Great. But I lay out my towel and shoes and helmet and all that jazz and soon it was time to head to the pool area. The 250 meter swim meant up and back in five lanes. We predicted this would cause major traffic jams -- swimming counter-intuitively on the left and passing on the right, where someone would inevitably be coming at you because she was swimming on her left -- if it sounds confusing, it was, but luckily no one had to pass me, and I was able to pass a couple of people by ending up at the wall at the same time and having them graciously tell me to go ahead. So I really enjoyed the swim other than the fact that I could feel the velcro on my ankle bracelet chip loosening with every kick and I think it caused me to kick a little less ferociously than I would have otherwise.

I lost a little time getting out of the pool because I'd left my Tevas near the pool steps. Many people left their sandals or flip-flops there because the asphalt in the parking lot where the bikes were was really really rocky and hurt to walk on gingerly -- I was afraid it would tear my feet up if hauling ass across it. I never go barefoot, even in my own home, so my feet are not exactly toughened up. Anyway, that took me a second, as did changing into padded biking shorts once I got to the transition area, but I know my nether regions, and there was no way they could survive the bike ride without padding. I pulled my bike down and realized I'd forgotten to put my shirt on, but when I reached down the bike started falling over, so I just left my shirt on the ground -- remembering that the race leader guy had said we only needed to wear our numbers for the run, not the ride -- and rode in my swimsuit and biking shorts. I "ran" with my bike to the mounting area and wobbled my way on, apologizing to the volunteers, "It's my first time." They were very encouraging.

I proceeded to set out on the ten mile ride and fry somewhat like bacon, but that's okay. I was passed time and again by other bikers -- my friend finished the swim after me but passed me handily on the bike -- but I never passed anyone, no shock there. I pedaled as fast as I could, but I am still a beginner and there is only so fast my bike can go, especially compared to some of the road bikes whizzing past me every two seconds as if they had wings. Next time I will bring sunglasses because I squinted the entire time. I tried to sing to myself and enjoy the scenery. Truly, it was so pastoral I felt as if I were in a watercolor painting or something. There were horses behind fences. "Hi, horses!" I called, flashing back to when my dad was teaching me how to drive on River Road and he yelled at me for getting distracted by the cows on the levee. What can I say, I find large grazing farm animals a pleasure to behold. There were silos and red barns. Sprawling farmhouses with front porches and corn fields, which of course made me start thinking about The Omnivore's Dilemma. The course was luckily totally flat. I only ended up in the wrong lane once on a turn. It was strange to try to give myself pep talks. Usually, such as in the half-marathon, I would just say to myself over and over, "You can do this, it's what you've been training for!" This time, I just said, "You can do this, it's what you've ... not trained for at all. But that's okay, you can still do it!"

Some 45+ minutes (?) later, it was time to dismount and "run" the bike back to the transition area. My legs were total noodles by this point and I seriously thought I was going to fall over. I took my time pulling off the biking shorts and pulling on running shorts (way too much changing compared to other people but I just wanted to be comfortable and not feel like I was running in a diaper) and making sure to put my damn shirt on and grab a visor because it was really sunny and there was not a tree in sight. I took off and saw that many, many people had already finished the entire triathlon. I told myself it was only two miles. Unfortunately it was two miles on legs I could no longer feel with sizzling skin on black pavement roads. Holy crap. I didn't make it very far on the run before I had to start speed walking and calm down a little bit. I ran a little more, I walked a little more. I saw my friend up ahead of me and as a volunteer cheered me on, "Lookin' good!" (doubtful), I said to her, "I am going to catch my friend" (pant pant) "if it kills me!" "You go get her," she yelled. So I took off (and by that I mean I broke into a slow jog instead of walking) and eventually caught up to her. I didn't feel bad about having walked because a lot of people were walking. A lot. And a lot of them looked really fit. It was just ... really hot. People were really hot, it was obvious. Thank goodness for the volunteer cheerleaders -- they really did help so much. I ran through to the end and promptly dumped a bottle of cold water over my head because I was so hot I felt like I might burst into flames. My friend came through shortly thereafter and our final times ended up being within less than a minute of each other. (I was a faster swimmer, she was a faster biker, and we ran probably around the same. So it was all good.)

We got our medals and stretched and ate some jambalaya and headed home, but not before stopping on our way out of town at the DQ. I wanted a banana pudding blizzard probably more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I hadn't been to the DQ since the summer of '95 in Boulder, when I ate a blizzard every day and I'm not joking. If you see pictures of me from that summer, this will come as no surprise. I hadn't even been to a DQ since I first saw Waiting for Guffman. So it had an even deeper meaning. We enjoyed our blizzards. Every bite of vanilla wafers and bananas and ice cream tasted like Libby Mae Brown singing Teacher's Pet and like that beautiful Colorado summer.

So. That was that. My sister reminded me that she's always thought I should be a triathlete. She has said this over the years but I effectively ignored her because it seemed impossible to contemplate. Now as of today I actually am. I still can't really believe it.

One of my favorite parts of one of my favorite books, Taking Care of Terrific by Lois Lowry (who has an excellent blog), is when Cynthia looks back on organizing the bag lady root beer popsicle protest and reflects upon how good it feels to win a war, thinking it might be fun to start another one.

In that spirit, I feel like I must now look for another war. So I've registered for a slightly longer triathlon in August (350m swim, 12mi bike, and 2mi run) and am considering an even longer triathlon (500m swim, 15mi bike, 5k run) where I'd have to swim in a lake. Reports are that you come out of the lake totally brown and covered in goo. If that's not immersion therapy for a germophobe, I don't know what is. I feel good about this. I think that Cynthia, Hawk, Seth Sandroff, and Tom Terrific would be proud.

Catching Up

Before it gets away from me, I want to get a little down about a wonderful weekend. I've already posted about the concerts, which were both amazing, but I want to record what else went on. It was a rare weekend when the whole family was in town -- my sister and her husband (they live out of state) and my brother and his new girlfriend (they travel a lot). My sister had the inspired idea to rent out a private karaoke room at a Thai restaurant in an early celebration of my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. We thought about inviting other people, but in the end, it was just us, and we had what can only be called a blast. There was dancing, there was drinking, there was so much eating, and there was plenty of singing. One of my favorite parts was watching my mother watch my brothers sing together. Their harmonies were admittedly beautiful but she was just blown away. Many pictures were taken, some of which I will eventually get around to posting. We also went to one of my brother's gigs, had boiled crawfish, had beignets and cafe au lait, and just had a merry time. I loved having everyone here. Just sitting around eating my mom's crawfish etouffee or lying around on the bed with my sister and brother-in-law were delightful. It was a really wonderful weekend and one I will not soon forget.

Randomness: The Great Performances special In the Heights: Chasing Broadway Dreams is excellent, even if you are not familiar with the show. Definitely worth checking out.

Meanwhile. I am still watching season two of Chuck and loving it a lot and am thrilled it has been renewed. I am reading The Wednesday Wars, finally, and loving it.

I got from Netflix the DVD of the Rent: Live on Broadway special that my brother and I went to see last fall. The special features are indeed quite special. I highly recommend both the live stage show itself as well all of the featurettes, which are VERY WONDERFUL. Seeing Jonathan Larson's parents and sister, all kinds of backstage goodness, the longtime crew members, the closing cast, the original cast (except Adam Pascal -- where were you, Adam Pascal? What could have been more important than this?). Everyone crying and laughing and singing and embracing and remembering, forget about it, it was too much, the tears poured like rain. Rent, I thought I was all cried out over you. But I was wrong.

Once again I have found myself engaging in last minute triathlon registration ridiculousness. A few days ago, I signed up for one that is tomorrow. The distances aren't terribly long, so I think I'll be okay, though I am a bit apprehensive about the biking part since the farthest I've ever gone in my life was seven miles. I'm just going to take it slow, try not to fall off or crash, and try to enjoy myself. I'm viewing it as a chance to road trip with a friend and as good practice for the one in August. I know myself, and I know my anxiety over that one will be greatly lessened over the summer by having this one under my belt.

This morning I went to the farmer's market and came away with fresh eggs, cucumbers, strawberries, bell peppers, yellow squash, and carrots. I feel really good about this. The dogs also approve.

Brandi Carlile

As if seeing the Indigo Girls the night before weren't enough of a treat, I got to see Brandi Carlile the next damn night at the House of Blues.

Brandi Carlile has been my number one want to see in concert artist for a while now, and the wish finally came true. The concert was the perfect mix of old songs, new songs, and a few covers. It was all I hoped it would be and more, honestly. I knew the music would be amazing, but I did not know she would tell so many great stories and be so unbelievably interactive and charming. Brandi Carlile is the real deal.

(I found it surprising that most of the people I told I was going to this show had never heard of Brandi Carlile. So I'm going to link to some video of songs, mostly from recent shows, so you can check her out if you aren't familiar with her, because I think she is someone special and I love her music very much, obvs. I tried to find ones of good quality. I'm sure you know that you must click HQ if you can. Good stuff, beautiful, really. I must say that I loved every new song and can't wait for the new album this fall.)

Setlist:

Burn: This is a Ray LaMontagne song, which was a nice and surprising opener for the Ray fans in the audience. Video here.

Closer to You: What is not to like about this song? Nothing, that's what. Video here. (Bonus: the following song is also included in this clip.)

I've Just Seen a Face: I was aware that she has performed this in concert but it did not occur to me that she would do it at this show. I love this song, and I love her version of it, and I was bouncing on my toes with delight over this one.

Late Morning Lullabye: One of my faves. It just makes me happy. Video here.

Have You Ever: This was the first song by Brandi Carlile that I ever heard. B. put it on a mix CD for me. I have him to thank for introducing me to her. This remains one of my favorites to this day. Video here.

Dying Day: They stood on the edge of the stage and sang and played this one with no microphones and no amps. It still filled the entire house. Good stuff. Video here.

Dreams: New song. Video here.

Before It Breaks: Beautiful. Video here.

Oh Dear: This was a nice showcase for the twins. Video here.

Creep: Well, this is not a favorite song of mine. But I still enjoyed it. Video here.

What Can I Say: She invited the crowd to sing along on this one, and the crowd obeyed. Video here.

Over You: She wrote this song when she was 17, and it will be on her new album. Video here. It's not the greatest song ever, but it sure feels like being 17. She played it for her mom, who asked, "Why are you so angry?" Totally 17.

Turpentine: The three-part harmony audience choir aspect of this one was very fun. Video here.

The Story: This is the Brandi Carlile song that most people who have ever heard of Brandi Carlile know. Or at least know of. Or at least have heard in a truck commercial. This song did not disappoint, not one tiny bit. This song means a lot to me, just like it means a lot to a lot of other people, and there's a reason for that. And that reason is that it is awesome. I might have cried. Video here.

Jackson: Video here.

Folsom Prison Blues: Totally raucous and fun. Video here.

Let It Be: Beautiful beautiful beautiful. Can't find decent video. She played the piano. It was a perfect closing song. We smiled the whole way home.

At some point during the show when everyone was cheering and cheerful and things got really lovely, Brandi smiled a huge smile and said, "If they could all be New Orleans..." If all the concert venues, if all the cities, if all the places in world.

It was nice.

Indigo Girls

Recently I attended an Indigo Girls show at Tipitina's Uptown in New Orleans. I tried to think back to the times I've seen them. First time: Jazz Fest afternoon show. Skipped out of school early with friends senior year of high school. 1993. Liberating, sunny, beautiful afternoon in the grass. Sometime mid-college. New Orleans. 1995? Some arena setting. Wrote a paper about it for anthropology class. Summer of 1995, Denver. Another time somewhere around here, another arena setting, with sister and friends, the least favorite of the shows, where we joked that they played every song we never wanted to hear. The glorious Chastain Park, summer of 1999 (I think). And that was the last time. Beautiful, outside, transcendent, circled back to that first Jazz Fest show.

Can't believe it had been 10 years. Because I am a nerd and like my iPhone's notes function, I typed the songs in as they played on Saturday night. This is organized by album and not by order of when played in show and will likely only appeal to longtime fans. Basically all you need to know about the setting is that it was standing room only at Tipitina's, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with strangers and friends, totally smoky (only downside), and that the crowd was very enthusiastic and it was basically one big massive singalong. The Girls seemed psyched to be there and very moved to be playing at Tipitina's -- one thing about shows in New Orleans is that the artists really romanticize the city and love it, which makes for a cool vibe. Amy Ray definitely dominated; she also rarely wiped the huge grin from her face, which was endearing; Emily's voice was still really beautiful but was a little tired every now and then. Emily said to the sweaty crowd that it's like taking a bath all the time when you're in New Orleans. Only missed opportunity: Southland in the Springtime. Seemed like a no brainer to me. Major annoyance: couple next to me who slumped over each other's shoulders, closed their eyes, and swayed back and forth the entire night, bumping me with every sway, like they were on their own personal dance floor or competing on Slow Dancing with the Stars. Otherwise, no complaints. Okay, here goes. (I'm going to link to some video, high quality if possible, for some of these ... not necessarily from this show but good recordings. Some of them will include Brandi Carlile, just because that makes me happy.)

Indigo Girls

Land of Canaan: Super fun, of course.

Closer to fine: Last song before encore. Audience member bid $9,000 to walk onstage, drink in hand, to sing final verse onstage with the band and get CD recording of it. She really knocked it out and turns out my friend knows her. She is an OBGYN. Money went to charity (Sweet Home New Orleans).

Nomads, Indians, Saints

Watershed: This one came out of the blue for me and I was so glad they played it. What a beautiful song. One of my all-time favorites.

Rites of Passage

Galileo (2nd encore song, last song of show, with Bonerama -- lots of horns, random but good): Since Closer to Fine and Shame On You had already been played, I was having trouble thinking of a really upbeat encore song. I turned to my sister and said, "I guess all they can play last is Chickenman?" She looked at me like I was an idiot and said, "Um, GALILEO!?" Duh. Obviously. She is smart. It was a fantastic closer.

Swamp Ophelia

Power of Two
Least Complicated

These are not my 2 favorites from this album -- Mystery and The Wood Song and Language or the Kiss are -- but they were fun to sing along to and the crowd loved them.

Shaming of the Sun

Get Out the Map: My sister and I worked on a top 10 of all time list to kill time while driving to New Orleans, and I'm pretty sure this made it, though we didn't write it down so I can't remember. I never thought they would play it, and it was great to hear. Meant something to my brother since he's leaving for a 3-week Europe backpacking trip in a week. Beautiful song.

Shame on you: I've always really loved this one; also a surprise to hear. Really fun in concert, clearly. Almost explosive joy from the crowd.

Come On Now Social

Oziline: I have never really gotten into this album.
Go: Ditto.

Become You

Become You: Decent song, kind of random. Not my fave from this album, but I like it well enough. (Those would be Deconstruction, Collecting You, Hope Alone, Our Deliverance, and She's Saving Me, all of which I love.)

All That We Let In

Fill It Up Again: They played these back to back and I felt they were totally random.
Heartache for Everyone -- Cute songs, sure, but nothing epic.

My two favorite songs from this album are the title track and Come On Home. It would have been nice to hear them in the place of these, but I am not going to quibble.

Prom (Amy Ray Solo Album)

Let It Ring: She did this onstage by herself and blew the roof off the place; hard to put into words; beautiful; spiritual; a prayer. Awesome!

Posiedon and the Bitter Bug (New Album)

Love of our Lives
Sugar Tongue
Driver Education
What Are You Like
Ghost of the Gang
Digging for Your Dream
Fleet of Hope: My fave song on new album.

when I was a girl

all of my fancy took flight

and I had this dream

could outshine anything

even the darkest night

now I wait like a widow

for someone to come back from sea

I've always known

I was waiting for me

I'll Change: My 2nd fave song on new album.
Second Time Around: First encore song.

It was a wonderful road trip with my sister and her new husband and our little brother. We ate pizza on a Magazine Street sidewalk and drank beer beforehand. We sang until we were hoarse. The staff held tall stacks of plastic cups to hand concertgoers on the way out to pour their drinks into and carry out into the night. We didn't get home until morning. When I woke up, my hair and pores and pillowcase smelled like smoke. I'm a little too old for that. But I will always go back to see the Indigo Girls. I love them forever!

Awful run, weird dinner, great show

I've fallen off the fitness wagon this week in a big way. Really the past few weeks. No huge shock -- it happens. Tonight I embarked on my first run in nearly three weeks and boy did it suck. I can't remember a worse run in my life. I honestly can't. I blame three weeks of slacking off, the heinous humidity, the not so healthy eating I've been doing this week, and the weird pain in my diaphragm area that made me feel like I couldn't catch my breath. Awesome! 2 miles, man. It was just terrible. But I willed myself not to quit, and I feel good about that.

I just whipped up a very bizarre dinner with canned pinto beans, slivered almonds, frozen peas, garam masala, sesame oil, kamut/quinoa pasta, and feta cheese. Yeah, those things don't sound like they go together to me either. But they were basically all I had to choose from so I just threw caution to the wind and went for it. It was not great but wasn't altogether disgusting, either.

It's a big day, America. It's the season premiere of So You Think You Can Dance, which brought me tremendous joy last summer. I just love this show. This article really says it all. I think people have a lot of misconceptions about this show if they've never seen it. It's so, so good. Great host, great stories, great dancing. Don't let Mary's screaming scare you off. Don't let some of the outrageous audition nonsense give you the wrong idea. Once the top 20 is picked, it becomes a serious and glorious competition. Love! And ... it's starting right now. And the first audition is giving me chills. This show is just phenomenally good, I swear.

I guess that's all I have to say tonight.

Catching up & rambling

A few more words on Chuck: I finished season one and loved every second of it. I spent way too much money for a season pass for the second season on iTunes, but it's worth it to me. I'm two episodes in, and it continues to delight. One of the miracles this show has worked in my life is that it's actually made me like the actress who played the much hated Madison on Everwood. I never would have thought this to be possible, but Chuck is just magical that way.

Last weekend was a nice one. I spent Saturday morning at a little women's retreat led by my mom, and I was so proud. She did a wonderful job. She was funny, assured, inspiring, and wise.

Mother's Day was good. Morning mass followed by an afternoon gig of my brother's, where we ate boiled shrimp and had a merry time. After that, I went on a bike ride for the first time in at least 15 years. I borrowed my friend's bike and rode in her peaceful neighborhood with little to no traffic, which was a good plan. Only once did I end up messing up a turn and rolling inadvertently into someone's front yard. I'm still not entirely sure how to brake and turn, but I didn't fall down and rode for a solid 30 minutes, so I feel great about it!

(A few days later...) Ow. Ow, ow, ow. So cried my back for the next four days. I think leaning over the handlebars and clutching them in a death grip due to being someone nervous on the bike pulled some muscles in my back. It's finally feeling somewhat normal again after not exercising in several days. O Lord.

One night this week, I celebrated my dad's birthday with my parents. Fresh green beans with real butter, corn on the cob, whole wheat spaghetti, fresh pineapple, broccoli salad, and some kind of pounded meat cutlet-y thing. And limoncello! It was good to visit with them and celebrate the wonder that is my dad.

I've read the first section (CORN) of The Omnivore's Dilemma and a little bit of the next section (GRASS). It's a book club assignment, and I had to think long and hard about actually starting it because I feared it would make me more neurotic about food than I already am. I have to turn a blind eye to most of the things I put in my mouth because the freaked out germophobe in me can't tolerate to think about where any of it came from. I'm like, hello, little grape. Did a cow ever take a poop on you? (I know that makes no sense.) I'm not sure that's so healthy, especially when I've been trying to for the most part eat whole and natural foods this spring. That's really a movement towards eating more consciously for me, and I don't want to avoid a book that will shed light on where some of that food comes from. I have to say that the corn section has basically made me never want to think about ever touching any part of any animal fed with corn ever again. Even though last night I ate and enjoyed a giant ear of corn on the cob. Wha? It made me actually mad at corn. Like, how dare you, corn, for being so insidious and being in everything human beings eat and drink? I don't want to be mad at corn. I like corn. Especially when it's boiled with a bunch of crawfish. Which are born in ditches as far as I know. So that is obviously an acceptable grossosity to me. It's hard to decide what is acceptable and what is not.

It's a lot to process. I eat beef once in a blue moon. Hardly ever. Maybe three times a year. Including last night at my parents' house. And it was tasty, but it's just not my thing, unless it's my mom's famous roast. But I do eat dairy products and lots of them. And I eat a lot of chicken, and I eat a lot of eggs. I would really like to go cold-hard vegan, but I don't really know what that would solve for me. I don't want to start eating Boca burgers and fake-ass food like that. I know I could live without beef and chicken and possibly even shrimp though that would be hardest for me as I truly love shrimp. But I do not think I would do well without eggs and cheese.

I don't know. It's a lot to think about. I don't want to obsess about food, but I also want to. I want to know what I'm eating and really think about it and really savor what tastes good and is good for me. But I don't want drive myself crazy. I'd like there to be balance. I'm not sure how. As I was reading the corn section and contemplating the wrongness and badness of "processed" food and food pesticided and horomoned and chemicaled and antibioticed out the wazoo, I comforted myself by thinking, well, there's always Whole Foods. But then I got to the GRASS section. Which so far basically boils down to the fact that Whole Foods and everything sold under its roof is a big fat lie. And it galls me that I've never given much thought to trying to only eat produce that's in season and local hasn't been shipped from a million miles away. I want to be better about this, to do better.

I want to eat healthy things that don't harm my body or the earth. But what are those things? Seriously, what are we supposed to eat? I would really like to know.

(Still more days later ...) I can't seem to wrap this up! I bought a bike! My classmate was selling her gently used bike, a bike that looks like this. I have no idea if this is a good bike or a bad bike, but my sister and BFF tell me it is, and my classmate is nice and trustworthy, and it looks fine to me! My dad gave me his gently used helmet. I am ready to start really learning how to ride it even though I am kind of spastic and scared. This is not exactly a bike-friendly town, though some people are trying hard to make it more so.

Another weekend has gone by. So busy! Spent yesterday in French Quarter with my cousin, attending mass at the cathedral (banging gong drum in choir loft ... so crazy ... I loved it!), running through the rain to brunch at Muriel's, where we ate crawfish hash and crawfish crepes with goat cheese and drank mimosas and yum, and a couple of bars where we nursed family wounds and more mimosas and laughed and remembered. It was a drizzly but nice day. Early Saturday morning, I went biking, and it was very painful and I need some good padded biking shorts right away. Between the cars, bikers, and joggers (even at 7 a.m.) and the crippling nether region pain, I basically rode in constant fear of collision and death and permanent groin paralysis and only made it 3.6 miles. Biking is scary. But I have to learn, and I will!

I am very, very, very excited about Glee.

Meanwhile, some very sad things have happened to some of my friends, and I am thinking of them & love them very much.

Race report

The alarm blasted me awake at 5 a.m. sharp and I groaned and flung myself out of bed, surly and cursing the day I agreed to do this. I ate a whole wheat English muffin toasted with some all-natural peanut butter. I put on my swimsuit and grabbed my goggles and swim cap and stumbled out the door.

I arrived at 5:45 and a large bald man drew my team number on my arms and legs with a big black permanent marker. I picked up my chip and attached it via velcro to my ankle. I squinted in the darkness, trying to spot my friends, but there was no sight of them. I stepped into the brightness of the indoor pool where I had been swimming a grand total of three times in the past two weeks to "train" for this event. There was nary a soul in there yet but a young guy in a black and white referee outfit. "Good morning!" he chirped cheerfully. I went to the bathroom and took a few deep breaths. A few swimmers were getting in the pool to start warming up when I came out.

I headed back outside, and it was still dark but getting a little lighter, and I spotted my friends arriving. They went to set up their bikes. The rest of the pre-race period is kind of a blur. The sun came up. The crowd got bigger. The lines got longer. I noticed that most of the women had on biking shorts and I was seized by a panicky moment of self consciousness that I would be one of the few women to be swimming without them. I am more self conscious about my bottom half in a swimsuit than I am about any other part of my body, and I rarely, if ever, expose it to the public. I tried to ignore that panic.

I put my swim cap on and we lined up, self-seeding ourselves based on how long we thought it would take us to swim 350 meters. Since I am not the world's most confident athlete and hadn't been timing my practice swims, I put myself with the 10-minute swimmers, farther back than I should have, it turns out. We huddled shoulder to shoulder and back to back and bottom to bottom alongside the pool, waiting and waiting and waiting to go in. The minutes crawled by. I kept picking my knees up to keep the blood flowing as we stood there on the damp tile, willing myself to stop thinking "foot fungus, foot fungus" over and over again. My pink swim cap was so tight I could feel my brain throbbing through my forehead and I couldn't really hear anything around me and I had to rip it off for a few minutes. Finally it was our turn and I learned quickly that I should have put myself farther up in the line because I kept having to swim around people. Not that I'm super fast by any stretch of the imagination, I was just faster than the people who happened to be in front of me. The most maddening turn of events of the entire day was realizing that a lot of people were actually swimming on the left, not just passing on the left, so if I needed to pass the swimmer in front of me, I was blocked by the left-sided swimmer and essentially stuck because the space between them was too narrow to swim through. I tried to be zen about this and remind myself I wasn't there to set any records and for more of the race than not, I could just swim. The traffic jams were a drag because they took me out of the moment and out of the zone, if you will, but I had to let it go.

By the time I got to the end, my goggles were totally clouded over and luckily two strong guys grabbed me by the arms and pulled me out. I said, "Thanks, I can't see!" They were friendly and then I pulled off my goggles and took off running out of the building in bare feet wearing nothing but my swimsuit and my swimcap. I ran through a crowd of people cheering me on as I hauled ass to the transition area through the grass. I felt like a complete moron, naked and exposed and bouncing and crazy, but just wanted to get there as fast as I could for my teammate, who was waiting by her bike. I still cannot believe I did this but it was part of the deal, and luckily the distance between the pool and the bikes was fairly short.

I wasn't sure what to do with myself after that since my part of the race was over, so I threw on shorts and my race shirt over my soaking wet suit and exited on foot out the bike exit with a couple of other swimmers and hoofed the two miles of the running route in my Tevas. I never thought to bring running shoes. Luckily these Tevas are comfortable and well broken in. I felt silly walking in sandals while the runners who finished the biking portion caught up with us and zoomed past us, but I wanted to walk so I could wait for my teammate near the finish line. She showed up eventually and we ran the last 100 yards or so together and got our medals at the same time. We slapped her little boys' hands on the way in. It was all very celebratory and fun. The bananas, the oranges, the clapping, the cheering. I was proud of myself and of my friends.

I came home and showered and collapsed on the couch for a few hours. Soon it was time to be fetched for an afternoon festival with M. and her girls. We had a good time, enjoying Italian ices and face painting before it started raining buckets. With no other choice but to set off in the rain for the car where we'd left the umbrella, M. carried her 2-year-old toddler in a baby backpack, and I carried the 5-year-old on my back so she could bury her face in my shoulder and use her hair to protect her newly painted dalmatian face from the downpour. Somehow this worked, and her face art remained relatively intact. I have to say that running through the rain with a couple of very game young girls -- the 2-year-old was laughing and saying, "It's RAINING!" -- was more enjoyable than I anticipated. We went out for turkey burgers and fries and had a merry time. Perhaps my favorite moment of this whole excursion was walking ahead of the 5-year-old after we ate as she carried a giant black umbrella to protect her face paint and hearing her sing out in a very Julie Andrews way, "I have confidence in sunshine, I have confidence in raaaaain!" To be around a couple of little girls who have just discovered The Sound of Music in the past few weeks, knowing the magic that will now be with them the rest of their lives, is a pretty remarkable experience. They already know pretty much every word of every song by heart, and the four of us had a rousing singalong, sans the CD, in the car. ("A captain with 7 children, what's so fearsome about that?" piped a tiny but sure accapella voice from the backseat. Exactly! What's so fearsome about that? I might need to adopt that as my new life motto.) It made me really happy.

The whole day, really, was a joyous celebration of women. Elite athletes and cancer survivors and mothers of newborns, young and old and fit and not-so-fit. I can swim, but I couldn't have climbed on a bike and ridden 12 miles. My friend couldn't have swum 350 meters, but she could bike and run and has lost a lot of weight after bearing three sons and is totally embracing fitness and succeeding, and we were a team. More than three hundred women signed up and did this race in some form or fashion, fast or slow or in teams or solo, and I think that is amazing. Then I hung out with three more of my favorite females all afternoon, and we had confidence in sunshine and in rain, and isn't that something.

Running, swimming, and CHUCK!

I ran in a 5K race recently with some friends. I was intimately familiar with the route, which was nice on many levels. I ran about 11:30-miles, which is REALLY GOOD for me. I felt really accomplished when I was done. As I puttered red-faced and panting toward the finish line, a very fit runner who was clearly lapping back and had finished long before me shouted, "Good job, runner!" It took me a second to realize that she was addressing me. Encouraging me. She called me "runner," like that was my name. I found it very moving. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline and the level of poopedness I felt at that moment, but her yelling that to me at that moment seemed a real act of kindness. Sometimes I think the best thing about doing races is the community aspect of it. Sure, I pass people on runs all the time because about a million people run where I run, and sometimes there's a nod or a even a little wave or a "Good morning" or a "Cute dog!" but strangers don't make a practice of cheering each other on -- unless you're in a race situation. She was done, she had probably been one of the first to finish based on her Dara Torres-esque physique, and she was just running in the opposite direction for fun, or to cool down, or whatever, but she smiled and said, "Good job, runner." Thanks, whoever you were.

I am trying to mentally prepare myself to arrive at a pool for 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning and then jump in it and start swimming. Holy crap. It's a good thing I have a disc of Chuck to keep me company. It's my first Netflix in a while not to be In Treatment, which has nine discs. I finished season one of In Treatment, and as I've mentioned, it was wonderful. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, staggeringly wonderful. I will never forget many moments of this season -- particularly, I will never forget the character of Sophie and how much her arc and her phenomenal portrayer, Mia Wasikowska, moved me to the point where I had actual physical reactions to every one of her episodes, having to assume multiple couch positions just so I would not feel like I was coming out of my skin until the closing credits and I could relax again. This show made me cry constantly and laugh sometimes and most of all think. I felt drained and invigorated and terrified and relieved and heartbroken and basically every other state of emotion on the human emotional scale while following the stories, especially Sophie's, and then Alex's. Not so much Jake and Amy's. Laura's made me want to throw up on every level. But all in all. What a great show.

Speaking of Chuck, WHY HAS NO ONE TOLD ME HOW GOOD IT IS? Under what rock have I been living? I noticed that my fave TV critic, Alan Sepinwall, wrote an open letter to NBC recently saying that it's the best show they have on air and that canceling it would be a huge mistake. Considering that this is the network of 30 Rock, The Office, and Friday Night Lights, I knew this was very high praise. So I've been peripherally aware of the threat of cancellation, but I've never laid eyes on this show or known anything about its plot or characters until last night. And I was in love with it seriously by the end of the first five minutes of the pilot. My little brother is a huge fan, and the fact that he loves a show so much that I've never even seen is very weird and unusual. He said it makes him feel so happy every time he watches it. I don't know how I didn't know this until recently. Anyway, I love it, and I've now seen the first four episodes, and I love Zachary Levi so much that I can't even fathom that 24 hours ago my television landscape and life as a whole did not include him, and I love seeing the hero of Canton, the man they call Jayne again. I love it! That it even faces the possibility of being cancelled is a crime. What is wrong with you, NBC? You should be ashamed of yourself!