So I haven't really touched my, 30-Day Shred DVD. Working-out insideis painful. However, someone does seem to get a lot of use out of the video. Grant asks EVERY DAY, "Mom, I need to do my work-out video. Tan you pwease put it in now?" I guess my money wasn't spent in vain:
Getting ready
Windmill
JUMPING JACKS!!
Rotating those hips...
Knees...
This is a push up.
Reagan and Lincoln join.
Pumpin' Iron.
The end.
*The bump on the couch is Jason. He was sick that day.
*Girly, crazy body-image, life after babies, post. Beware.
I got to see a number on the
scale today that I haven’t seen for seven years. Sadly, the experience was mostly a letdown.
“WAHOO! ROCK ON!!! I did it. IeeeIee did It!!! Oooooh. Wait. Huh? Well, that’s strange. I still look…and it’s...still—saggy." *sigh*
I’ve imagined how I’d feel to see
my, “pre-baby” weight, since I had Jack. The funny thing is, I thought that
when I got to see that NUMBER—I’d also get to see that BODY. But as I excitedly
ran to the mirror to fully realize what that number looked like in person…it was nothing as I had hoped! Even though I
feel pretty lucky to have carried four children and earned minimal stretch
marks; there were other battle wounds.
The belly button that was lost in
folds of soft white pasty dough, falling in on itself, and glaring grumpily back at me. "Yeah? So what?" It snarled. The five small scars from
the gallbladder/endometriosis surgery. They said, "Hey, at least you're off the Vicodin." The self-inflicted navel piercing that
was so short lived—it wasn’t worth the $50 dollar thrill. It said, "Youth is wasted on the young!" There was the ridiculous amount of
s-t-r-e-t-c-h, and the gentle pooch that was slightly bigger on the right than the
left. After all, that’s where Grant hung out—during my whole pregnancy. Forget moving around. That kid stayed put! And…then there was the top. Those roes weren't feeding among the lilies anymore! Oh, Song of Solomon. You mock my pain! Sustaining children for 6 years (72 months total) would wear any hardworking machine out. I
won’t hurt your brain with the graphic details of those poor suckers. Let’s only say
that all the silly analogies are really true. And, I’m earning all A’s in
that department—no more B’s. Sometimes getting smaller ain’t more fun at all.
So happiness is definitely not
found in a number. Only, it seems in fading memories. Oh, OKAY! In being
content with what the good Lord has given you! And, in the knowing that I’d
do it all over again to bring those four little punks into the world. Who needs itty-bitty waists and rock-solid abs anyway?
It’s not like I ever had them! Was only hoping for a mid-season rebound,
ya’ know? Oh, and the gray hairs the fifth one is no doubt cranking out at this
moment. I’ll happily give her those, too. Because, there are things, and lives,
more important than my sad, saggy self…
But
don’t think for half a second that I’m not saving up for my million dollar mommy makeover! A
girl’s gotta’ dream, right?
Saturday morning, Heather and I drove down to Seattle for the Danskin Tri. I read in the Seattle Times that there were 3,710 finishers in the race. I had no idea that so many women were there...
We stayed in a hotel inBellevue,WA, just across the way from Seattle. It was so nice! We were within blocks of all kinds of shopping.
So, Saturday evening, after picking up our race packets in Bellevue, and being kind of disappointed in our, "goodie bags," we headed to Seattle to drop off our bikes. When we got to Genesee Park, (I can only speak for myself) I think we both just about wet our pants! The water was so dark, and REALLY choppy. It really looked scary and gross. We saw a little turtle floating on top of some seaweed...he was cute and all--but the thought of little creatures didn't help me. We checked out our transition station, and realized that we were in the *furthest* corner possible from the water. Meaning, we would have to hustle during transition.
I went to bed Saturday night trying not to think about the water.
Sunday morning, we got to Gennesee Park, put on our wetsuits, and waited our turn to swim. I felt like I was going to throw up the whole time. Heather saw some blue caps going in and their numbers were all in her number range, so she went in with them. I saw the second wave of yellow caps going in and got in line with them, even though my numbers didn't line up, because the assignment sheet said there was only two waves of yellow...and that was the second one I had seen. Also, I knew that I was supposed to go about ten minutes after Heather. Anyway, I'm pretty sure now that it was the wrong group.
I stepped in the water, felt my wetsuit fill with water...floated a bit...and after about a minute--I knew I could do it! It was great. I wasn't fast, but I wasn't panicking at all. The whole way was lined with kayaks and "swim angels" cheering you on. It was awesome. Wetsuits are where the money is at for sure. I wasn't cold, I didn't feel the seaweed, or worry about little cute turtles touching me...and I could FLOAT! I usually sink like a rock unless I'm really working at not sinking ;-)
The bike portion was a lot more difficult that I was prepared for. It wasn't ridiculously hard; it was a little more technical. There was a hill, and the course was only about 8 to 10 feet wide (I'm guessing) on that section. Riders wouldn't shift down, and when they hit the hill--would just stop. I didn't clip out, so the whole time, I was sure I was going to wreck...the women got pretty cranky at that point. They were definitely more aggressive on the bike in Seattle, than at the Luna. The entire time I rode I heard, "On your left"..."coming on your left," or just "LEFT!" I thought it was fun...but it was frustrating when someone would go 10 miles an hour in front of you, and just hang out in the left lane, so you couldn't pass...
Oh. And, coming in from the bike, it was really cute to see daddy, after daddy, sitting on the grass with a baby or two, waiting for the wives to come it. There were a lot of male spectators ;-)
The run was pretty, and it really wasn't too difficult. There was one steep hill, and there were 6 people camped out, playing djembesand congas as you ran up. That was cool. Something I was bummed at myself for was just how lazy I was on the run. I lose all competitiveness...I kept thinking, "I just want to be done." I'm a real bum on the run. :- (
Next year, my goal would definitely be to be more competitive in the final stretch.
My time was 25 for the swim, 37:52 on the bike, and 32:22 on the run. My first transition was REALLY slow, because I couldn't find my bike. A girl two rows over had a bag just like mine...and I kept wandering to hers, thinking it was mine. It didn't take me that long to get my wetsuit off...but it took *forever* to get my shirt on. I think that transition was a little over 7 minutes. My second one was a little over 2.
One other thing that happened was, both Heather and my swim time did not get recorded properly. I'm not sure if it was because I got in the wrong wave (one of the officials said it wouldn't matter) or if the chip was defective. It took us forever to find our times at the race, because we weren't with any age group. We were just listed on the last page, with about 10 other people, whose times also seemed to be messed up. The only reason I know my swim time, was because I happened to set my stopwatch on the swim. It was the only event that I did that for...I'm really thankful now that I did.
So! That's how my first sprint distance triathlon went!
