I love my kids. I really do. As ya’ll know, they sure can pull off a heck of a Mother’s Day surprise. 🙂 As awesome as they may be, I still turn into a troll when one of those kids misses the bus and forces me to climb in the car before I’ve shed my jammies and downed my second cup of coffee. It isn’t pretty. In the event you don’t believe me, here—check it out, my alter-ego was recently caught on film:
Yesterday missed-the-bus Emma was spared the Wrath of The Troll by the appearance of a sign near Marlborough High School; its incessantly flashing four-part message brought a huge grin to my face, which in turn abruptly reversed my ongoing transmutation into a heinous-looking mythological Norse creature:
The big grin’s because every triathlete has her favorite race and this one happens to be mine. Hands down. For myriad reasons. To name a few: It was my first tri ever (2010). It’s how I met my coach, who would go on to get my sorry ass through a dozen more tris of varying distances and two marathons (and we’re not done yet). Its finish line empties out onto the sidewalk where a teenage version of me would stretch, circa 1984-88, before cross-country practice. Sure, it’s got some gnarly hills on the bike…and on the run…but I’ve been biking and running them since childhood so they are my gnarly hills, thankyouveddy much.
What’s a girl do whilst tapering her way through the final 48 pre-favorite-race hours? This one is…
– Obsessing about whether purple caps are the harbinger of bad weather. I’ve only had a purple swim cap once before and that was in Nantucket in 2011. And that was a nightmare. If you don’t remember, read all about it here. So the fact that we 40+ chicks will wear purple is clearly a sign. Is it a sign? It must be a sign. Please don’t let it be a sign!
– Plotting to break the speed limit. Look at any of those four-panel pics and you’ll see a “Speed Limit: 30” sign. I gotta say, that sounds like an invitation to me, as the sign is located at the foot of a sweet little descent on the bike course. Marlborough Police, make my day 🙂
– Trying to remember to buy double-sided tape. It’s official: I’ve decided to never again wear my race belt. This is a good call, since I tossed it, right into the woods, right in the middle of the New England Season Opener a few weeks ago. It kept riding up the slippery spandex of my tri suit. I kept pushing it down. It migrated back up, up to my ribs (between ribs 9 and 10, to be precise). I hoisted it back down to my hips (past the iliac crest, in case you were wondering). Up. Down. Up. Down. Drove me nuts…more nuts than my standard factory settings. So I dramatically tossed it, bib number still affixed, right around Mile 2. I now miss the number—it would’ve looked good on my wall—but not the belt. Tape’s the way to go, that’s what I say.
– Thinking of the other two “Cs”. The band’ll be back together, well, kinda. Marlborough will see three of the 4Cs that made up the 4C Hyannis Marathon Relay team. Festa, we’ll miss ya. Whoo hoo C2 and C4!
– Reminding myself that it’s probably not a great idea to spank cars that fail to heed the sign and SEEK ALT ROUTES on race day. Motorists, I don’t understand you. “They” put the signs out for a reason. You really can take other roads between the hours of six and noon. Heck, even 9 – 10:30 would be a dramatic improvement. I try to be nice, but when you box me in behind a slow cyclist on the Stevens Street hills, well, I can’t help myself. Your bumper is right there and my blood is boiling and you really *do* deserve to be spanked. At least on your bumper. I will try to not do this (again); not only is it probably a violation of some USAT rule, I know it’s just not nice. But most importantly I know it needlessly wastes energy best reserved for the run 🙂
And of course I’m polishing Viper for his Marlborough Tri debut. Yes, this will be his “first Marlborough”, and he is licking his fangs, oh yes he is. If you think I’m excited, you should see him. What’s that, you say? You would like to see him? Oh, okay, twist my arm…if you insist, here he is, after a visit to ATA to pick up some schnazzy race wheels for The Big Day:
Well, that’s all for now. As usual, thanks for stopping by. If you’re racing, here’s hoping your smile’s as big as mine. If you’re not, here’s hoping you SEEK ALT ROUTES, people! Or you just may meet the troll…See the rest of you in transition!