Wither thou goest...

Well, we're just outside San Antonio right now, in Atascosa Texas. This is where Sweet Baboo and I were married lo, those many years ago. Sweet Baboo is out riding the tractor, threshing the slightly overgrown 15 acres his Mom's house sits on. Ma Baboo and her husband are selling the house so that they can enjoy retirement in the tiny town of Castroville, about 10 miles away. We're considering buying it and then renting it out for now. Which brings me to today's dillema: do I stay or do I go? Of course, we're not talking right now, right this second. No, we're talking some years down the line, after Mini-baboo is grad-ee-ated and gone, and we're ready to wind down towards, if not be fully engulfed in, retirement.



Both Sweet Baboo and I spent our formative years in Texas; I was born here and moved away for a while until I was in middle school. He was raised here pretty much most of his life and then moved to New Mexico when he was 18. He loves the hill country. I'm pretty much happy in most places, although I have some caveats about south Texas.


Pros.

• I do love this house. It's a well-built single level Texas ranch house with limestone facing, sitting towards the front of 15 acres of land. The land has mesquite, prickly pear, and mule dear on it.


• Sweet Baboo looks awfully at home on the tractor.


• If I were to show up and say, "hey, anybody need a seasoned math teacher?" that they'd fall all over me and worship me AND I'd get a signing bonus, usually money paid in the first and fifth months of the first year of teaching, anywhere from 1 to 2 thou each payment.


• It's mostly flat here so I could commute by bike just about anywhere


• Other than the 3 months in which I would dedicate my life to indoor air conditioners, I could train year round, because the winters are so mild.


• DirecTV and cable Internet are available here. That's a plus. I don't mind country life as long as I have those things and am on a well-established UPS route.


• Have you ever seen Texas Bluebonnets in bloom? IN fact, most mornings, this whole area looks like a Thomas Kincaid painting.


• There is no shortage of available running and triathlon events in this part of Texas.

Cons.

• It's awfully humid here. I hate humidity. I went for an easy 3-4 mile run this morning and came back just dripping. I just love the crisp, arid mornings in New Mexico.


• 17 - count them - 17 dogs chased me. Not sure the country life is for me.


• Lots of rain.


• Not sure how a severely-left-leaning vegan liberal hippie type like me would be looked upon here. Most Texans are rather live-and-let live, except for the rare types that keep large amounts of dogs, and, uh, let them run with impunity...


• Did I mention how much I hate humidity? It makes your skin look great, all dewy and stuff, but your hair looks like your some sort of heroin addict. Lots of women here cut their hair SHORT. I could see doing that. MAYBE I could get used to the humidity. I must say that after my run and a good shower, I felt GREAT. Given my ashtma and such it might even be better for me than dry air.


• I am allergic to most things green, and it's very green here . I haven't had any problems yet, though, and it's spring here.


• Actually, there's an asequia in the front that usually runs pretty fast in the growing season. It could sort of function as a slightly muddy "endless pool".
  
• Unfortunately, I do not like Thomas Kincaid. I think his stuff is kind of schmaltzy. I'm not of the "country decor" type. I'm of the insane, eclectic with mexican, retro overtones.

So that's it, that's my current dillemma. I suppose I don't have to make decisions now; I just hve to decide on it some time in the future.

...

Schlepping the Sully Super Sprint

Alpine, Texas (Sunday, March 25th)

This morning I did the Sully Super Sprint at Sul Ross University. Alpine, Texas is about 3 hours' drive from El Paso, as you head east. It's just above Big Bend.

The first day after we arrived, Sweet Baboo went for a 90-mile bike ride down 118 into Big Bend territory. Helen, Stuart, and I drove after him after a while and met up with him just inside the park. After this, we ate sandwitches and went into some hot springs that few people know about. Very cool. Later that night, we went for packet pickup and then ate at Trattoria, where I had some excellent penne and rosemary bread. They do nice lattes and cuppacinos, and have very nice food; too bad they aren't open on Sundays.

Well, so now to the race. It was the worst of times; it was the best of times. The worst of times was the run - I will be uploading a profile of this run so that you can see. It was like I imagine running around in San Francisco would be like. Up the hill. Down the hill. Up another hill. Down a sharp incline. Up another mother f*&^%ng hill.
I was sucking wind, and wound up third from last on the run; I don't know my time but I do know who was in front of me and who was behind me, so I'm going to contact them and average it. At the time, though, I was too tired to even care. I usually count on having some kind of advantage being from about 5000 feet above sea level, but Alpine is 4800 feet above sea level, so I got no advantage at all, and some humidity to boot. And of course, the hills.

Those damned hills. My heart rate soared up to the low 170's and wouldn't come down. Before long I was third from last, as I came huffing and puffing into T1. I didn't look down to see what my run time was. I didn't want to know what my run time was. That run kicked my ass. A lot of people were sucking wind.

Then, it was onto the bike - the best of times for me. The bike course starts out with you rolling down the parking lot, about a grade 9 or so, and then making a sharp right turn onto the main road through town. Even before I got on the bike I was worried; as you may recall my last experience on the bike was less than satisfying, owing to the fact that my brakes were on most of the time. So, the little voice inside my head was saying, "what if it WASN'T the brakes? What if you really DO suck that much? Then what will you do?" But in any case I got on and headed out.

This was where, I found out that the spin classes actually worked. They worked! I faced each incline with a general feeling of dread but then they were just no big deal. The bike was fairly straight out and back with rollers, and a fantastic lack of wind form the most part. I think I did the fifteen miles in a little under and hour, dropping about 8 or 9 people on the bike course.

The swim was 365 yards, and I did it in about 9 minutes, I think. It wasn't my best swim, but then I've been in the pool 3 times since last December, so it wasn't too bad. I dropped a few people in the pool, and it wa at the this time that I started thinking, you know, if my run didn't suck so much I might be a halfway decent athlete.

The coolest part was that there was nobody else was in my age division...so...I got some hardware. I'm never complaining about that! Since they don't have Athena or Clydesdale divisions, sweet baboo raced in his age group and got 2nd place. Of the over 40 clydesdalaes that were there, I think he was first.

It was a pretty well run race with a nice course - the run will challange you, but if you ever want to visit a tiny town near Big Bend Park in Texas, come on out and try the Sully Super Sprint!

Tomorrow we'll head out to San Antonio to see Sweet Baboo's mom. My next scheduled race is the MVTC in Las Cruces, New Mexico this coming Saturday.

Added later: I'm not sure when this will get posted. We see lots of places that have wireless but their internet connections all seem to be down, and Sweet Baboo's mom has a dial-up, so it may be a while. Cheers!

...

spring break

Okay; let's try this again, since Blogger is having some kind of major brain fart.

Oh, forget it. I don't want to write all that again. let's see, I said that my spring break starts at 11 am today; Sweet Baboo and I are headed to Alpine Texas to Sul Ross U, to do the Sully Sprint. It's a reverse (I think) mini-sprint.

(The original post had links to it but then Blogger said "there was an error" and wouldn't post it and the whole thing I wrote disappeared into cyber space and I'm too lazy to put in new ones. Just google it.)

So let's see: I'm largely untrained, due to the 2.5 weeks I've spent coughing, gagging, and clearing my throat and the week I've spent having parent-teacher conferences every single day after school.

yeah. This should be just fine.

After that we're going for a quick visit to San Antonio to Sweet Baboo's mom's house, where I'll read, nap, and drink gallons of Sweet Tea. Mini-baboo is staying here because, for all his delightfulness he IS a teenage boy and I need a break. Taking his place in annoying me will be Mr. Mucus, seen above, right. We're taking our weird vegan foodstuffs and a large amount of Mucinex. I'll have my race report up after the Sully!

...

Ever the teacher.

As a teacher I often use "non-examples"

We'll be studying something, like how to write a research paper, and I'll make one that has some problems or use one from a previous student, and we go over in class and grade it using some guidelines that I draw up. My hope, from that experience, is that they'll know what to do.

So, here is my non example for you. Perhaps you can spot where I went wrong.

So, Sunday, I got up to do my long slow run.

Normally I eat pasta or something bready the night before and then having a high-carb breakfast about three hours before I run. Then, right before I run, I either take a gel or two and some water OR about half an energy drink before I run.

This time, however, I skipped dinner the night before since I wasn't hungry. And so it was that my last meal was some fries around 2 pm the day before.

ANYhoo, I woke up kind of late and so, after nibbling down a cliff Z-bar (about 220 calories) I got dressed and headed out. I didn't eat any more because I didn't want that big "sloshing" feeling in my stomach and I didn't want to delay running any more since it was likely to get warm out.

Sweet Baboo asked me if two 10-ounce bottles of Nuun (read: 20 ounces of water, electrolytes, no carbs) would be enough.

"of course," I said, "besides, it's not very warm out."

About 2 miles into my run I was thinking to myself, gee, I sure wish I'd brought a gel, but then, I wouldn't have had room for my spare key or chapstick I was carrying in my hydrations belt.

By mile 3, I felt, shall we say, a bit weak. My first though, "I'm dehydrated." So I drank about half of my Nuun. By mile 5, I felt a little weaker still. "Gee," I thought, "I wonder if I should have gotten some more nutrition in before starting this run."

By mile 6 I was nauseated, and by mile 8 I was weak and more than a little dizzy. I was running a quarter mile and then walking a quarter mile. It was the longest 10 miles I've ever run.

So tell me, boys and girls, what grade would you give me for 1) insight, 2) planning, and 3) life-threatening and stupid behavior?

I don't fail. I succeed at finding out what doesn't work.

...

Addendum.

In all fairness I don't think I've ever done a good enough job of revealing why Sweet Baboo gets that nickname instead of some other less sweet and fanciful name.

As well, inferences were made by another, who will not be identified, that Sweet Baboo is spoiled. I would be remiss to allow this to continue to remain in anyone's mind for very long.

Nor would it be fair for me to completely blame forgetfulness on Ironman training, particularly since I would like to announce publicly that the Baboo apparently did NOT forget me but instead was waiting for the weekend, at which point he purchased for me many birthday items of spring clothing that I was sorely wishing to have, having donated all my very old XL spring clothing to Goodwill last fall. (By the way, I'm happy to report that, in most aspects, my ass is now considered, at least by the clothing industry, to be medium-sized) But I digress.




The following is the list of Sweet Baboo's responsibilities, which is to say, these are the things that I miss when he is in his heavy training day fog:

• Launderer and clothes washer
• vacumer
• buyer of all things sparkly
• buyer of most things perfumey
• finder of My Lost Stuff
• Replacer of my Lost Stuff that Cannot Be Found
• bill-payer
• junk-mail shredder
• pizza orderer
• Idea man for fun ideas of what to do now
• check-book balancer
• movie picker (most of the time)
• driver
• travel route planner and hotel reservations maker
• chief bread-winner
• scraper of all windshields icy
• fish feeder
• self-esteem booster
• investigator of future athletic gear purchases
• reminder of Things I Have Forgotten
• difficult jar and bottle opener
• getter of all things High and Out of My Reach
• main disciplinarian
  and of course: eye candy.

In any case, it is precisely because the Baboo handles so much of life's niceties and removes the unpleasantries from my awareness that I do notice when he gets distracted. 99% of the time, I wonder through life in a nice little bubble knowing that there is insurance, triple-A, and a cell phone to protect me. I know the car will start, the lights will come on, the water will run, and the heat or a/c will work.

In my pre-Baboo life these things were taken care of by me and, I must say, not very well, either. I am, shall we say, a bit scattered at times. On more than one occasion the insurance lapsed and I couldn't afford my asthma medicine and the lights didn't come on because I forgot to pay the electric bill or I ran out of heating fuel and had to burn wood. When the electricity was cut off I would tell the kids we having a magic comping adventure...in the house. Anyway, all that is behind me now, thanks to Sweet Baboo. As a result, I have two periods in my life: PSB (pre-sweet baboo) and SSB (since sweet baboo).

And so for him I will cook large pots of food and try to have them ready as soon as is reasonably possible so that he doesn't have to start chewing on his clothes or eat one of the cats, and hug and kiss him no matter how sweaty he is. This summer I start my training, I'll be off work so I'll cook a lot in advance so that there's lots of food around for both of us so that we can both wonder about in a fog. Most of all, though, I'll make sure I can do what I can so that he can continue to hurl himself pell-mell through the world of ultra-endurance whatever, since it makes him happy. A happy sweet Baboo is the best sweet Baboo of all.

...<3

For you, the ironman window(er).

When I was in college, I once saw a tiny old book in the libary called, "advice to a young scientist" and it had a chapter in it of advice for spouses. it's with this in mind that I write this post.

There's probably been plenty said about the single-minded determinedness that leaves spouses in the dust when one spouse endeavors to become an ironman triathlete...but I'm never one to be at a loss for words, so I'll put my 2 cents in. I'm writing this not because I'm complaining. I'm just letting you, the spouse, know what you're in for.

First, Sweet Baboo is gone a lot. He does 100-miler bike rides on Saturdays and long runs on Sundays and the rest of week he's out of the house at 5:00 am to swim and/or run and/or bike to work. Then he's gone until 6 or so at night.

When he does get home he's so painfully hungry that he starts rummaging through the kitchen like a heroin addict looking for a fix. This is good, because he doesn't complain about the food. This is bad because, well, if food isn't ready when he gets here it can get U-huh-gly. So, on days when I have to work I get home just before he does, and then I have to deal with the guilt of my Sweet Baboo as a poster child for starvation. He practically sits on his hands so that he doesn't start chewing his nails, waiting for food.

On wednesday he had a coworker pick him up in the morning so he run home. It was about a 14-mile run, but the first 1/4 of it was downhill, and he vastly underestimated the toll it would take on his quads. Meanwhile, it's suddenly decided to be spring here and the afternoon temps are in the 70's, and the New Mexico sun is at its finest: direct and hot. Ah, you think, but it's a dry heat? That's meaningless when running 15 miles. But in any case he arrived home and just sat in the driveway for about 10 minutes in a pained, sweaty daze. The Baboo was out of commission, physically speaking, and hobbled around the house for a few days muttering repeatedly under his breath, "I really did not expect that run to have this kind of effect on me."

The Baboo has also been wondering around in a fog for the last few weeks. He's somewhat distracted, repeats himself, and has gotten very forgetful. Bills get paid...not late, but certainly not with the chipper swiftness that they got paid in pre-ironman training days. I have to remind him of things. (Some of the things he's forgotten I haven't the heart to tell him about.) I just shrug and remind myself that he is still the finest person I've ever met, and that this is all inadvertant, even if he is reapidly becoming the absent-minded professor.

In any case this may interest you, the future ironman...or you, the future spouse of an ironman. It sure as hell interests me. After all, I'll begin my training in ernest after spring break and,
I'm wondering if I'm going to be as scattered and tired as Baboo has been lately...

if the two of us are like this, heaven help Mini Baboo, aka the Jonster. He may have to subsist on ramen and peanut butter until after it's all over.

...

TAGGED!

Off topic: I was tagged recently to answer this question: What five things can I thank feminism for?

I didn't know what feminism was for a long time. All I knew was that in 1970 my mom cut off her blond beehive and dyed her hair back to its natural brown color. I just came home from school and it was that way, and after that day, I never again saw my mother in a dress or heels again. She wore comfortable clothes and shoes.

What Five Things can I thank feminism for?

1. Choices. I tend to like wearing girly things, although I will admit I'm partial to the more sensible shoes, and I chose a traditional woman's career while my kids were young, although I didn't have to. I'm thankful for the range of possibilities that have always lain before me.
2. Comfort. When I'm doing my LSR or a triathlon, I'm thankful that I don't live in a country where I would be stoned to death for flimsy wearing shorts and crop tops, or for removing the latter and stripping down to the jogging bra.
3. "Title IX" At work nearly every day adolescent girls will tell me, with breathless excitement, about the game they played the day before, the race they ran, or the opponent they wrestled. I've taught a female football player. Nobody can tell them ever again that girls can't play sports, or that they're unfeminine.
4. Salary. I'm thankful that it's illegal for the school district where I work to pay male teachers more because they're heads of their households.
5. Medicine. I'm thankful for the advances in women's health care. It used to be that drugs and procedures were only tested on men.

I'm tagging: Nytro. Pirate. Nancy. Siren. Stronger.