The rambler.

I've been lazy lately, thus the lack of writing down of actual thoughts. But most of my thoughts lately have been, "Is it 5pm? Can I have a glass of wine or two?" and lots of sleeping.

But I've still got things to tell you about, so to review:

Friday night at the bar my friends and I were laughing it up and having a good time in the very crowded, noisy bar (loud music and such) when this henious woman at the next table leaned over and asked us to be quiet. FOR REAL. We all sat there in stunned silence, I wish I had a time traveling machine because I'd go back and tell her to go fuck herself. It's a bar. It's loud. If you don't like it you can go down to the damn library. Bitch.

I got fired from my wine shop job. They said it was "downsizing" but really it was because I basically told them to shove it- twice, when they tried to institute ridiculous policies- if something breaks on your shift they will take the cost of the item out of your paycheck and apparently we are supposed to know through telepathy that the owner wanted us to clean the toilet during our shift. I'll miss helping people out because I found I really liked it, I will not miss their horrible management of the place or the lack of hours that I was getting. I was working so little I only made about $30 every two weeks.

The farmer's market this week was full of sweet, apple cheeked babies with ridiculously fat thighs. I considered stealing one.

It's been a full three months since the last time I got kissed, that is entirely too long. Yet not a single cute single person in the area lately. I fear the college students will come back I'll accidentally lose control of myself and grab a poor freshmen and kiss the hell out of him on the street. But that would probably be some sort of assault, right? Crap. Must remember not to do that.

I bought a whole watermelon this weekend, I'm going to attempt to eat it all by myself.

It wasn't until Monday of this week that I realized that it was Labor Day weekend this weekend. How the hell did that happen? Summer is over? WTF? I certainly haven't driven my car enough...I'm thinking about taking a little solo road trip this weekend but I have no idea where I want to fo.

Although a tiny part of me is secretly looking forward to cooler fall temps and boots and jackets and pretty leaves. First I should probably go buy some boots and jackets, right?

That is all I've got.

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Greater Cleveland Triathlon

Race Report #2: Awesome. (Ok, I promise I'll try not to use that word so damn much)

Saturday afternoon my mom and I went out to the race site to pick up my packet, I'd already checked the bike course and knew what to expect there (a couple good sized hills) and the run course was nice a flat- the water, now there was the variable. Seriously, I nearly fell over dead when I saw the water and course markers. Nothing like waves and swimming against a current that seemed to be moving horizontally to the shore. A couple of the other racers were in the water giving a try and seemed to be doing ok -then again these were like the super swimmers. The top notch of the notches. Me, I'm in the upper 1/2 of the notches but not top, honestly.

That night I eagerly watched the weather and nothing calms a triathlete's racing heart and head like the words "Small craft advisory". Crap. Dreams involving drowning and sucking in great lung fulls of water followed by a tragic picture in the paper featuring myself in a wetsuit which makes me resemble a lame seal.

But the morning of the race they called off the swim portion, because the water looked like this:

Holy hell, the water was rough and choppy and the sky looked crazy.

It was unseasonably cool as well, mid-50's in the morning and maybe warming up to be in the upper 50's low 60's by the time the race was over. Because the swim was out, they added in a 1.2 mile run to start the race- so the tri because a dual-athon. Which is minorly disappointing since triathlete and triathlon sounds so much more impressive, no?

Anyways, the bike was good, sections of it were pretty windy though but I felt relaxed and just enjoyed myself. I was pretty stoked when one of the international distance guys came up behind me and said "Kudos to you for hauling on that bike!" This made me so freaking giddy I peddled just a bit harder after that. (I ride a big clunky hybrid while everyone else in the race, except two other riders, were on sleek road bikes).

The run was decent, I did have a few rough spots where the water I consumed on the bike sloshed about so much that I felt a little sick. So I walked when I felt that it, and ran the rest.

I LOVED the people on course, both the volunteers, the crowds and the racers. HUGELY different than the group last week, lots of encouragement which really means a lot to me. Besides the 'kudos' comment, a lot of people exchanged "good job!" with each other, from the announcer as I came back in from the ride portion "Look at her riding that huge bike!", I also got a "Keep it up Athens!" and a "I LOVE your jersey!"

Plus, kick ass goody bags with SWEET shirts, hair ties, carb gels, lotion, Triathlete magazine, several Gatorade products, Cliff Shot Bloks (salty goodness), and a bunch of other stuff I'm forgetting. As you came across the finish you got a medal, which is my first medal ever. I LOVE it. I didn't place but I want to wear that medal around my neck for a long while. I may be wearing it right now. Shhh.

And even though it's not a one to one ratio race wise I did it in 1 hour 53 minutes which about 11 minutes faster than my race time last year for a sort of equal distance (although this course was harder).

Starting the 5k:


I think this will be my last race of the season. I'm really fighting with myself since I'd like to do another one but I'd also like to enjoy the rest of the summer and not have to keep training so hard. Plus I can put the race fees towards a road bike so that I can knock some time off my cycling portion. But part of me is sad that this is it for the year, but it's good to end on a high note- right?

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I will never call it Progessive Field, it will always and forever be "The Jake"

I'll get to the triathlon race report in the next post (it's a good one, no little children punks making me feel like crap!)

Last night I conned my parents into taking me to the Tribe game (vs. Baltimore Orioles) and thank god I did, it was great. We ended up having good seats (upper deck but the lower section right between third and home) and it was an exciting game. I'm not a sports writer so I won't even bother to try to blather on because you would all flee in horror from the over-use of "awesome" and "dude, it was great!" while really gleaning very little understanding of what happened at the game. I can't help it, I suck at that sort of thing.

I am, however, awesome at taking pictures. Ok, as awesome as one could be with a tiny little point and shoot camera with a fixed lens and shooting around other spectators heads. I probably over-state my awesome-ness but suck it up. My blog, my prerogative to pontificate on my awesomeness.

If you'd like to do some reading about the actual game (the tribe won) I suggest that you head over to Orioles Insider , unlike myself Michael has actual talent when it comes to sports writing. Although, of course, his recap of last night will have a decidedly Orioles bend to it but if anyone happens to know of a good Indians blog I'd really appreciate it since all the ones I've tried I've failed to like or don't post enough.

Cleveland at bat:

Baltimore at bat:


Cleveland Triathlon Race Report

So the truth of the matter is that I am probably entirely too hard on myself. In my head I fixate on the way I think I should be performing during triathlons and then when I realize I just can't do what I imagined I get down. Way down. Crying-in-the-corner, clutching-a-bottle-of-gin-muttering "dumb, slow-wanker" over-and-over-again down.

It doesn't help matters that I got fucking schooled by an 8 year old. Yeah, that's right- an 8 year old finished before I did. WTF? EIGHT. MOTHER-FUCKING-EIGHT.

It's a tiny bit hard not to beat oneself up when someone who is 20 years your junior totally kicks your ass and that person hasn't even hit puberty yet. Although in the end I win, because I'm an adult and can eat ice cream for breakfast and a candy bar for lunch while jumping up and down on my bed legally swilling gin and he can't. So suck on that Mr. 8 year old.*

Today someone told me that some races are for learning and not for rocking. I guess that is the way I can sum up Sunday's race, it was all about learning. Swimming in the Lake Erie harbor was actually pretty cool- the fear of water where I can't see the bottom is getting better. The course was surrounded by the cool Science Center and the Rock Hall and the William G. Mather, so there was plenty of interesting things to look at. And they closed down the innerbelt of the shoreway for the race- which if you are familiar at all with Cleveland is one of the main arties out of the city. I wish I had enjoyed the view more but I was battling hellish wind off the lake and some wicked hills. And depending on which distance you were doing you got to hit them a repeatedly. So maybe they weren't such a big deal to the pros but for me those long, slow climbs were a tiny challenge. But I did it and I didn't stop- I just kept peddling.

The swim though, the part I usually feel like I rock, was hard for me this go. I got kicked hard in the stomach twice, which caused me to inhale the lovely water of Lake Erie. In turn causing me choke and then have a hard time catching my breath. After I exited the water I was still coughing up some of the water and spent about 45 seconds bent over at the waist trying to catch my breath. For someone who prides herself on being a strong swimmer I was hella disappointed in my performance. 7:04 for a 300 meter swim.

Sometimes I get pissy with myself because I feel like I'm using the fact that I got kicked twice as a crutch for being so winded and craptastic in the swim portion. And then part of me is really glad I came out of that water and wanted to quit so badly but I sucked it up and got on that damn bike and went, dare I say I'm proud of myself? Conflicting emotions, it's awesome.

Swim: 7:08 (300m)
T1: 4:45
Bike: 44:40 (8 miles)
T2: :57
Run: 21:41 (1.5 miles)
Total: 1hr 19 min.

So this weekend, at race #2 (a longer and harder race) I'm just going to have some fun. I don't care how long it takes me, or how many times I get passed, I'm just going to do it. Fuck yeah.

My number:

In Lake Erie (Science Center in the background):

*Ok, I'm not really trying to knock the 8 year old triathlete around. I think it is quite awesome that he did but that doesn't mean I'm above a little shit talking in order to sooth my wounded ego. I never said I wasn't a minorly petty person under particular circumstances.

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