Adventures in Hunger

Dear Diary,

I've discovered what true hunger is.  True hunger is being in the food isle at Walgreen's and having trouble deciding what to buy because everything looks good.

 EVERYTHING.

Every crappy food on the shelf, even non-refrigerated steamable meals that are, in my normal opinion, slightly greater in quality and value than an MRE. They may be less.

Normally, I know that I must be hungry because I start "noticing" food, food ads, food signs, etc. Like, "Oh, KFC. I wonder if there's anything vegetarian there? Man, I miss fried chicken." or, "Oh, Wendy's. Their fries are awesome. Hey, frozen pizzas are on sale at Smith's"

But on the day that I had completed my 64th mile for the week (the most I've ever done in a training week, so far)  my stomach was wrapping itself around my spine, there in the isle at Walgreen's. A noise emitted from my contracting food bag that, I swear, made the guy standing further down the isle edge a little further away. I just tried to affect a neutral face like, noise?  what noise? 
No, that did NOT come from me, because I am a delicate flower.

Still, I couldn't decide what to eat. So many awful possibilities...I finally chose a reasonably low-fat Simply Asia noodle bowl, a can of tiny shrimp, and a can of crab meat, to get protein I need. It was a crazy 12 or some points in Weight Watchers, which means I will, literally, eat into my activity points for the week now.

I climbed the stairs back up to my office, and started opening things and preparing them for the microwave, and went downSTAIRS to microwave them, and came back upSTAIRS to find that MREs would have been better, because THEY come with UTENSILS.

After briefly considering using my Purel to disinfect two pens to use as chopsticks, I reluctantly came to the conclusion that I'm going to have to go get a spork. From the cafeteria. Which is downstairs. Down. STAIRS. 

I put my head down on the desk for a moment and tried not to cry.  Yeah.  Big baby.  My legs were tired.  I was so.  Hungry. 

I considered, for a moment, taking the elevator down one floor, but that would be ridiculous, even for me. But I considered it.

I went downstairs and got a spork, climbed the stairs again to my office, and ate my space meal, which amounted to a bowl full of barely flavored low-fat high protein nutrients with some flavoring. And then, inexplicably, I wanted some cheese popcorn.  But that will have to wait.

I've heard that you should carefully examine your cravings and they will tell you what nutrients your body is missing.  I've decided that is a bullshit excuse for people to give into their cravings. 

There is no reason for my body to crave most of the things that it craves.  There are no "missing" nutrients for me in coconut m&ms, cheese popcorn, a cherry coke, or fried ANYTHING.  None.  is my body short on oil?  How about carbon dioxide?  salt?  Nope, none of those things. 

I will accept that I have cravings for Advil and protein, but that's about it.  And maybe breading.

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YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE, RIGHT NOW!

We went to a climbing gym yesterday.  No pictures, sorry.  I asked for some, but the truth is that the camera phones are a bit to navigate and our camera has been missing for several months.  Anyway.

So last week a coworker had invited Baboo to go to the climbing gym and he accepted, as something new he'd never tried, and WAS I JEALOUS?  I was.

I had been intruigued by this ever since I saw the guys trooping past the the new house on the trails with big pads strapped to their backs.  For months I watched them, finally settling on the hypothesis that they were headed for some high spot in the mountains to meditate, and maybe do yoga. Never quite satisfied with that answer, since it was about 99% guy trooping by with their big giant pads, so finally I hopped the back wall and shouted to them my curiousity, and they told me they were going bouldering.

You ever do something and say to yourself, "I could do that?"  Not because you're one of those "can-do" kind of people, but because you have this distant memory of yourself climbing trees until your mother, peering upwards through the branches, demands you to come down...NOW...before you kill yourself?

Oh, I was fearless I was.  I was constantly climbing up to very high places and my favorite thing in the world was to be higher than all the neighborhood houses and then sit and wait until my mother came looking for me, and then wait until she was right underneath, and then give a shout.  The look of panic on her face was what I was after--me, the tomboy who ONLY wore boy clothes and thought girls in Alabama in the 1970s were stupid.  I mean, they did stupid things and played stupid games.  Boys had all the fun.  Girls played with dolls, and talked about boys they wanted to marry.  Gaa.  Me and my friends, all boys, would place the Barbie that one of my relatives was foolish enough to gift me in great peril, and then take turns rescuing her.  She remains buried in my back yard somewhere.  I forget where.  I buried her and we were supposed to dig her up, but then I forgot.  Probably busy climbing another tree, or something.  I was reminded sharply of my tomboy roots while watching christmas movies this past week.  My parents gave me a steel-tipped bow-and-arrow set for Christmas one year; can you imagine?  What were they thinking?

Anyway.  So, of course, all that was 35 years ago, I was nine, and I weighed all of about 50 pounds.  Yesterday was a completely different experience, and as I clung to the wall oddly worried about falling--despite the harness--I thought to myself, "Less ass is needed here, and more forearm and finger strength."

Baboo and Sweetface shouted encouragement and suggestions from below.  We all took turns managing each other's rope-and-pully system.  Before climbing, a staff member had given us all the tour and a brief tutorial on how to manage the belay system.  I eyed the pully suspiciously--way, way up there--and imagined a cartoon-like scenerio where Baboo came flying straight down while I was lifted off my feet toward the ceiling.

But reality was way cooler, all the technology worked, and besides, the floor has about a half foot of padding on it, anyway.  We wandered about, testing this wall and that, some leaning forward, some leaning backwards and some going overhead (where gravity and mass inevitably prevailed, at least for me).

Of course, I. Am. Lazy.  But remember, I am also Stubborn.  I will be back.  I felt like I was nine again, and half expected to hear my mom yelling at me to GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT NOW, MISTY JANE--I AM NOT KIDDING!  It was a blast, and I plan to file down my nails and go again.

If you go: forget about fingernails.  Do buy some chalk.  wear comfy clothes; girls tended to be more in yoga pants and t-shirts.  Boys wore all sorts of stuff.  Be prepared to be a bit humbled.  But if you're like me, with the echo of childhood ringing in your ears, be prepared to wonder when you get to come back again.

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Training blahs.

So, I'm following this training plan, or trying to, anyway. Problem is, it isn't a training plan for someone who does high-altitude, hot races on the day before I'm supposed to do my long runs. EEP. There's something about a real hot workout that just wears me out. I wind up napping most of the rest of the day, and I never get to that long run the next day...I do all the short ones, so my volume is up. Well, sorta. The truth is, I'm sick of the heat. It's got me pretty uninspired.

Just in time: it's finally cooling off. Still...

remember: I. am. lazy. I'm also deep into feeling sorry for myself for losing my job. And, I've been fooling myself in believing that moving boxes of stuff out of the garage equates to training for triathlon.

So far, for August:

Bike, 41 miles (oooh. pathetic.)

Run, 51 miles.

Swim, 1600 meters.

Anyway, my longest run to date since the "Run the Caldera" marathon in June has been 13 miles, and I'm doing the New Mexico marathon in 2 weeks. Gonna be a Long. Day.

I just set my almost finished bowl of cereal next to me to start writing, and realized that my cat was not snuggling and purring, she was finishing the bowl for me. And purring. Dammit. Does it every occur to anyone except me how odd it is, on occasion, that there are animals living in my house?

Animals. In my House. eating and peeing, and not always what and where they are supposed to do these things, which since the day we moved out of caves and into houses, are OUTSIDE.

I'm cranky.

I'm optimistically hoping that the triathlons that have been preempting my long runs are doing something to help me in the area of endurance, even though they've all been sprints.

and Baboo isn't here. He's somewhere else, on business, which means I'll eat badly, stay up too late, and generally take crappy care of myself. I'm pretty certain at this point that if he wasn't in my life, I'd be huge, miserable, tired, and depressed. We take good care of each other.

Gonna go eat some eggs now. I should go out, even for a quick run. Oh, wait...the hummingbird feeder needs filling...

...

Iron taper cranky ranting.

First, the positive stuff:

The lake house that SW Trigal found for us is awesome. It's on Rose lake, well away from all the madness, and includes 4 large bedrooms, and everything you need to live in the house except for food. There's a small dock on the lake, and a hot tub. I'd tell you more but I don't want to drive you crazy with jealousy. It's quite, peaceful, and fantastic and just what is needed for the taper. No internet, though. Probably just as well.

I had the best grilled cheese sandwitch EVAR at a place called Java on Sherman, after we did an hour-long ride on part of the bike course. The first part. The easy part.I know,I know, it's hard to screw up a grilled cheese, right? But this grilled cheese was on toasted thick slices of whole wheat, using real cheese - not the processed slices--and included much coveted tomatoes that are so hard to find these days. Great place! I recommend it.

Now, the stuff that is not to positive:

Yesterday we drove the IM-CDA bike course, and I would have thrown up except that my stomach was empty. I had flashbacks of IM-Kentucky: Steep, long, climbs; steep downhill corkscrew turns. Screaming downhills that ended abruptly in a sudden 90 degree turn that then immediately went uphill. And I'm going to average at least 14 mph on this?

After I pried my fingernails out of the dashboard, we found The Original Mongolian grill. We paid for "all you can eat." They were completely out of tofu, and when we asked for some, the waitress wandered off and forgot to tell anyone. After about ten minutes, I asked a 19-year-old who appeared to be in charge, he said they weren't going to refill it. I protested, and he said, well, we have some raw tofu. That's fine, I said, that's awesome. We'll take it. He stomped off to get some.

He brought us a small bowl. When I tried to explain that we would need more, he got all pissy and said that he'd already brought us a whole block of tofu and that it (the whole block) cost *Eight dollars, more than your whole meal," he said, with a broad sweep over the table.

"We're not eating any of the meat over there," I responded, "This is going to be our main source of protein. you're going to need to bring us another bowl." He flounced off and brought another bowl, setting down with a loud CLACK.

So what do we learn from this.

1.If your bottom line is threatened by a couple of vegetarian triathletes on a diet, you may want to rethink your business plan.

2. If you're paying $8 for a block of tofu, then your supplier is seriously screwing you. At most, retail, the stuff is $2.99. Trust me; I know this. I've been buying tofu a Loooooong time.

3. If I pay for all-you-can eat and I'm not a SUMO wrestler, you don't get to bitch about how much tofu I eat.

4. If you'd kept the tofu pan full in the first place, none of this would have been necessary, including my very public declaration of what a jerk you are, mr. Manager or manager wanna-be man.
I won't be going back there, ever. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Some other, random crankiness I've noticed on our travels:

• Breakfast is usually some permutation of eggs and/or flour, two of the cheapest ingredients you can find. So why is it so danged expensive?
• My computer abruptly decided that I no longer have a wireless card. Even though it's in there. It declares that it isn't. Bad Athena. No internet.
• Food suppliers don't seem to GET IT that when you process vegetables where you process meat, YOU WILL GIVE SALAD-EATERS FOOD POISONING. I'm pretty sick of not being able to have tomatoes one week, or brocolli another week, because they're recalled. Last week, we couldn't get a black bean burger. Recalled.
  

Okay, that's it I guess. Her Iron-Crankiness: OUT

....

Iron dieting.

This week marks the second taper week heading into IM-CDA, and I'm working on adjusting my eating for recovery and the decrease in activity. Mmy workouts include yoga, a 2 mile swim (or thereabouts) , a short run, some spinning, and a mini-brick, including all three events, on Friday.

I've been eating like a PIG. In weight-watchers, you earn extra eating priveleges by working out. One time I ran 10 miles and earned enough to eat a half pizza. I've been careful to just fuel my workouts, most of the time, and I've lost 10 pounds.

Now that I'm tapering, though, I have to eat lighter. Right now I'm eating mostly lean protein and lots of antantioxidant foods: fruits and vegetables, soy foods, and lots of water. Next week, the calories will be shifted over to lean carbs and lots of antioxidant foods. It looks like my race weight is going to be about 156 lbs (11 stone, ~71 kg)

I'm taking in lots of electrolytes, since drinking lots of fluids without electrolytes can flush them right out of your body. With an IM coming in about 12 days, I need to hang onto all the electrolytes I can hold onto. So, I've been drinking lots of sugar-free sports drink.

PS: If you've decided to make it your mission to warn others about the dangers of artificial sweeteners, no offense, but I'm not interested. Thanks.

Not much more to say. I guess I'm a bit cranky. I'm missing my post-workout binges.

...

Haiku for Holiday Spirit at the Office

Stop forwarding crap!

Your feel-good, shmaltzy emails

won't change my life!

Cheater!

While on our way to LooUHville in August, Sweet Baboo studied hard the rules for his USAT officiating test. And some of the behaviors of other racers I thought were just annoying? They're deal-breakers, y'all!

After the Prairieman, I excitedly asked the Baboo if he got to hand out any penalties on the course and he calmly informed me that it's not about handing out pentalties, it's about making sure that everyone has a good and fair time.

Yeah. Whatever. So did you write any penalites?
Officiating cult mantra aside, I have started to notice the things that he talked about when I was asking him about rule, rules, rules.

Even more awkward, I've seen friends of mine break the rules. I recently saw friends of mine applying body glide to a family member when she came through an aid station, something that they did not offer to other racers on the course, and I've read race reports about people having family members hand them things on the course and seen people whose parents or friends walked parts of the course with them.

I figured they probably didn't know that they were doing something that, if an official saw them, would get them not penalized, but disqualified. The big D-Q. Why they might have done that? Well, the options are
1) They didn't read the rules (stupid), or

2) They read the rules, and decided they don't apply to them, (Jerks) or

3) They read the rules, and didn't understand them (understandable) or forgot them.

I like to go for option 3. You can't teach teenagers who's favorite classroom questions is, "Huh? How what again? What are we doing? I don't get it" without learning to be infinitely patient and assume the best, so here I am, and it's a teachable moment.

Here are some things that can get you penalized or disqualified, if someone sees you doing it. And, they don't have to give you a second chance. This isn't high school, folks. You were supposed to know the rules. All they have to do is see it, and write it down:

.
.
.

• Riding alongside your very bestest friend or sweetie, chatting away. (Dangerous and annoying). Drafting
  D
• Getting up on the pedals as that chick was passing you or right after she passed you, Mr. or Mrs. Thang, instead of dropping back out of the draft zone and waiting. Overtaken
  .
• Spitting out the top of your goo pack, or dropping anything (even a water bottle or jacket) anywhere other than outside an aid station and not picking it up. Littering
  .
• Having someone, like a friend or relative hand you things on the course. Outside help.
  .
• Having someone, like a friend or relative, do something for you at an aid station or or hold your special supplies for you, when they don't do it for anyone else. And, yes, that includes salt pills, body glide, or tampons. Outside help.
  .
• Swearing at another racer, a rude spectator, or an official. Unsportsmanlike behavior
  .
• Having anyone who is not a registered racer walk or run with you anywhere on the course or run with you through the finish chute. Outside help/Pacing.
  .
  Often the finish chute thing is overlooked, but you know what? It really screws it up for the woman/man finishing right behind you.
  
  Don't believe me? Watch IronmanLive sometime! Awwww, wasn't that sweet the way that guy, his fiancee, or their kids to run with him or her through the chute? But wait, see that guy running behind them? S/he had to actually stop running and wait to cross the finish line because of you, you inconsiderate idiot. At the very least, you ruined his/her finish line shot!
  .
  Sorry, but there it is.
  .
  Tell your families to stay out of the finish chute!
  
  .
• Wearing your ipod on the run. Wearing earphones.
  .
• Calling your husband or sister from the bike course to bitch about how hard it is (Are you kidding me? No. People I know have actually done this. I don't know the name of the rule it breaks, but I think it's actually a rule against using cell phones on the course. Maybe there's just an overall stupidity or whining rule)
  .
• Cranking the ac down to 50 degrees F the night before a race so that your spouse wakes up stiff and freezing (Okay, well, it's not a rule, but it oughtta be...)

So there it is. Commonly broken rules. If you're breaking them after this, then you'd decided to risk a penalty, and you've given up your right to be in a fair race, as far as I'm concerned, and you aren't a better athlete if you took unfair advantage or made it harder for others.

BTW, This picture (below) has absolutely nothing to do with triathlons, rules, or racing. It popped up in an image search of "regret", and I realized it was just too good not to share.

I include it without further comment. Enjoy.

Uh, Ex-effing-SCUSE ME?

Will that include our plane ticket prices? Huh?

msivonrpq

You may have noticed that I've started adding a note to my comments. on some of your blogs. Things like: Today's word: msivonrpq

I figured if I have to type it in, I'm going to share it. With everyone.
Annoying, isn't it?
Yep, it's annoying when I had to type if the first time. Hint, hint.

It's 5:25 am, and I'm headed out for a 6-mile runrun. Ironman training ramps up this week.

...