How was your weekend?

Mine was just lovely, thank you. For whatever bizarro reason, spring in Houston this year has been absolutely beyond gorgeous - the hot, humid weather has held off for a surprisingly long time, giving us (fairly) cool, dry mornings and nice evenings to spend out on the porch watching the kiddos romp around in the kiddie pool and the sand box making a mess.

Race report: race went well, for the most part. The swim was pretty good, the bike was excellant, and the run was only ok (mostly because I was pushing the bike pretty hard). I had a good time, and managed to keep upright on the bike, which has been my downfall in the past. Interesting things of note: many more silly looking aero helmets, and many fewer disc wheels then I've seen at past races. It's funny what people choose to spend their money on - almost as funny as the folks who are however many pounds overweight arguing at great length over the relative contribution of 200 grams from Ultegra versus Dura Ace. But that's a rant for another post (or not).

My wrist is feeling much better (Must.Keep.Tape.On.Nine.More.Days.Aaaaaaaaaaargh!), but I'm in the midst of the multi-WIP-wasteland - several things on the needles, all of which have seen progress in the last little while, but none of which are particularly photographically interesting. Devil's little sock yarn skirt (Rav link) is cruising along, but there's only so much progress you can show day-to-day when it takes 10 rows to get an inch. The Summertime tunic is in the same straits - it gets less attention since it's not bus knitting, but 200+ stitches/row in stockinette takes a while to get anywhere. I've got one skein left after the one I'm currently working on, and I'm hoping when I start it, I'll be far enough down the body so I can start some lace for the bottom section. Of course, that requires that I pick out some lace pattern to use, which requires actually attention/thought about what I want, and that motivation seems few and far between these days.

After the massive sock explosion of the last month, I'm loath to cast on any new ones, but I have a pair that have been languishing in the last stages of finishing for going on two years now. Is it cheating if I finish those off and use them for this month's contribution?

Finally, the North Roe shawl continues to be lovely and engaging to knit, I'm really enjoying the striping, and the way the lace looks blocked out. But (and there's always a but). I'm going to run out of yarn. Which means that I'll have to spin some more. Which is not really a problem except that it means pulling out the rest of the top, laying it out, finding the right color repeat, excising that section of top, splitting/predrafting/whatever it was I did last time around, and then spinning some more laceweight. Again with the lacking of motivation.

Who knows when all these things will get done? Although the lack of in progress reporting should theoretically lead to an explosion of FO posts, right?

*****************************************************
Speaking of progress reports:

Finished
Firestarter socks
Spiral Boot socks
Verdant laceweight

In progress:
Summertime tunic
Devil's sock yarn skirt
Basalt tank revisited
North Roe shawl

I promise I'll have pictures next time.

Knitter down

Knitting-type of progress has been slowed of late by a wee problem with my dominant knitting hand:

I seem to have managed to irritate the tendons/ligaments in my right wrist, what with general life events (aka cycling, grant writing, kid hauling, knitting, spinning, etc) and they are none too happy. So my chiropractor realigned the umpteen-gazillion bones in my wrist that were out of whack, taped me up like an NFL star* and sent me back out into the world. I get to wear this stuff for 14 days so the ligaments regain their normal non-stretched out and irritated state, and then all should be well (my fingers are crossed).

In the meantime, I can get this stuff wet, dirty, gross, etc because he set me up with a whole roll. This is timely given that I've got my second race of the season on Saturday. I'm looking forward to it, as long as the weather continues to cooperate and give us 50 degree mornings and 80 degree days (plus it would help if there was no Biblical Downpour as there was the last time I tried to compete in this particular event). If it's hot and steamy, aka normal Houston weather, it's going to be a long slog. I've been spoiled by the long stretch of really really nice weather we've been having.

My training has been going ok. Despite the fact that it's in the header up there, I don't seem to talk much about training or triathlons in this little spot of the blogosphere. This may be in part due to the fact that my energies are largely focused elsewhere these days. B.K. (before kiddos) Ironman and I trained alot, and trained together despite our relative velocities (I'm built for comfort, he's built for speed). A.K., that doesn't happen any more. Or hardly ever - we occasionally sneak in a swim together while the kids are still at daycare, but no more long Saturday morning rides, or trips up to Huntsville to run. I miss training together, but more then that I miss consistent training. Things are so much more harried now that my training schedule takes a serious hit - because of kids or work or just not having the motivation or energy to go out for a workout once I get home in the evenings. Which is why I do crazy shit like get up at 4:45am to go running or ride on the trainer - it's either that or it doesn't happen at all. It's coming back slowly, but for now I'm sticking to short local races that I can muddle through with half-assed training. Hopefully there will be more space for it farther down the line.

* In retrospect, I should have opted for the fluorescent pink or lime green tape colors, because this "flesh" tone is pretty boring. Something bright could be a good conversation piece!

I got nothing

OK, that's not entirely accurate, but I don't have anything of note to show you. I have two almost finished socks, which, unfortunately, are not of the same pair. I have a Summertime Tunic that looks mostly the same as last time, only most of a hank of Premiere longer. I have a baby blanket that is trapped in intarsia hell, and probably needs a time out, but if I do that it won't be done by Devil's birthday. Oh hell, who am I kidding - it's not going to be done anyway...

It's springtime here in Houston, which makes for longer days and really nice weather for working out. I've entered a couple of races, so I've been trying to get in some consistent training in preparation. Running is going OK, swimming is fine - if I get in the pool twice a week I'm happy - but cycling has really been taking a hit. The problem is that cycling is time intensive; ideally I'd be riding at least three times a week, but that means at least an hour and a half out of the day, if not longer. Finding that time is tough with the kiddos around. Until the last few weeks, I've been bonding with my trainer, but since the time change, it's possible to ride after work. Tonight Ironman took the kids home and I went for a ride.

The only downside is that the number of clueless folk on wheels dramatically increases this time of year, not only because of the weather, but because of an impending physical challenge that a lot of people (upwards of 15,000) participate in every year. It makes for fun times out on the bike path - tonight I had the honor of being in the front row for a lovely bike-on-bike collision at a T intersection on the bike path. Thankfully everyone was going pretty slowly and no one was hurt, but harsh words were thrown and things got a bit testy (kind of like the Rav MCY thread). But I rode on home, thankful to have been paying attention, and glad that the bluebonnets are blooming and it's really spring.

Of course, the downside to that, is that summer is just around the corner...

Falling off the wagon

I've been athletic for a very long time, although you might not think that to look at me. In third grade I started taking ballet lessons and by the time I was in junior high I was taking classes 6 days a week. In high school it became very apparent that I was too tall and too big (and too fond of eating!) to be a ballerina so I started rowing. I rowed, in one fashion or another, through three years of high school, four years of college and five years of graduate school. To say that daily exercise and competition were important parts of my life is something of an understatement.

Then I moved to the desert and rowing was pretty much out of the question. Ironman was big into cycling, so I took that up. And then decided that instead of just doing one new sport badly, why not do three? And so I became a triathlete. And I discovered that it's a lot harder to motivate to get out and train when you are all by yourself. But I had people to ride with and people to swim with. I was never really interested in running with anyone because I am really slow. Really, really slow. And I hate feeling like I'm holding everyone else up. So I ran by myself and slowly and surely improved.

Fast forward a few years to Houston: initially, lots of training, new group of folks to train with, new routes, etc. But then came Devil. And I found out that it's a lot harder to train consistently when you're Mama and when the alarm goes off in the morning and you've been up every two hours feeding a baby all night, a run is just not going to happen very often. Ditto a bike ride or a swim. I did get some training in and I did do a few races, but the commitment wasn't there.

Then came Boo. And if I thought training with one kid was harder, try to do it with two was even worse. While I was on maternity leave it was OK, since I could throw Boo in the stroller and go for a run during the day. But once I went back to work, things kind of went belly up again. I did one sprint tri earlier this summer, but then did not get back on my bike until two weeks ago. That's two and a half months (!) without riding. And I'm pretty sure that I would have continued on that trend were it not for the fact that several rowing buddies from grad school are coming to town to do a race with me in October. The honest truth is if I workout every day I just feel so much better.

Now here's where the tough part comes in: in order to guarantee that I get some exercise, it has to happen first thing in the morning. Like 5 am first thing in the morning. And I'm the kind of person who really really likes their sleep (although 2.5 years of not sleeping past 7:30 EVER has cured me of the ability to sleep in), and if I had my way, I'd sleep at least 8 hours a night. So I have a quandary - do I go to bed early and miss out on the down time we have once the kids are finally in bed or do I hang out with my husband, watch some TV, knit (spin), and only get 6 hours of sleep? This week I've been choosing the latter option - we'll see how long that lasts though. I've got a schedule of workouts written down and hung on the fridge. And I went and dropped $70 yesterday on this instead of more fiber, so I've got a challenge to train for. I've got a running buddy making sure I get out of bed three days a week to go run. The rest I'll have to work in myself. But it's a start. So far this week, I've gotten a workout in everyday, the last fewat 5 am. It's a start.

Back to the races

Yesterday was my triumphant return to the world of triathlon post-Boo. I am glad to be back, even in a slower, larger version then a few years ago. And it went much better then my first race back after Devil was born (where I landed on the pavement 6 miles into the bike and was laid up with road rash and a pulled back muscle for about a month).

The day did not start auspiciously – our drive down to Pearland was very dark, punctuated with brilliant flashes of lightening and the proverbial Ark-floating downpour. It’s always a bit of a concern when the place you’re headed for is completely hidden by the Black Cloud of Doom. The transition area was very wet, the thunder was booming, and I was pretty sure this race wasn’t going to happen at all. But eventually we all got lined up for a hop into the pool. The first racers started just as the thunder started up again. But they kept going (and got through the swim without mishap thankfully). Most sprint races in this part of Texas have pool swims, there being few appropriate (and clean) bodies of water for swimming in and loads of pools. Somehow there was a mix up on my swim time (swim is self-seeded, so you send in a predicted swim time when you enter and you start with people who swim about the same as you) and I ended up passing six or seven people in 300 meters. Hauled out of the water (only two seconds slower then the time I’d sent in) and ran off to transition.

My transitions were just a wee bit rusty after more then a year off, but I finally got out onto the bike course. It was very wet and slick, although the rain had tapered off quite a bit. The road was about as good as they get down here – fairly smooth, no major expansion joints or potholes. I felt pretty good on the bike, although I had no idea how fast I was going since my computer crapped out on me (maybe it doesn’t like the rain?), but I finished about when I thought I would. And then it was off on the run.

The usual M.O. for my triathlon experience is this: kick butt on the swim, fly on the bike, and then watch all those people I just passed speed by on the run. I am not a small person. I do not run quickly. In fact, I run quite slowly. Mr. Iron Man runs about twice as fast as I do at his race pace and my easy pace. So I knew what was to come. I decided as I headed out (legs aching and thinking to myself “Whose bright idea was this anyway?) that my goal for the run was no walking. Given the problems I’ve been having with my feet (@(#&$)^% plantar fasciitis), this seemed like a reasonable goal. No walking and passing the two very large guys I could see ahead of me. The run course started off through the park and then turned onto a gravel path for about half a mile. As soon as I hit the path, the sky opened up and the deluge commenced again in earnest. My first thought was “I’m glad I’m not still riding!” and the second was “My feet are getting really wet, but hey – it’s not four bazillion degrees out!” As suspected the run was slow. Very slow. But I didn’t stop and I did pass the Clydesdales I’d marked at the start, as well as some other folks. Came to the finish line and there was the family cheering away. Well, Iron Man was cheering, while Boo drooled and Devil watched, thumb firmly in mouth.

The best part of the day (other then finishing the bike upright and road rash-free)? Walking in the rain over to the transition area holding hands with Devil, and having her look up at me and say “Yay Mama!” I was tired, my feet were killing me, but my daughter was excited to be out there, even with the crappy weather. There’s not much more I could ask for.