When penises fly...

Thanks to Wonkette for this post...it made me smile 5 min before having to give a very stressful briefing.

http://wonkette.com/391872/flying-penis-invades-russian-political-scene

Let the madness begin

Yesterday was my first triathlon, and before I get into the details, let me just say that I sit here typing with total rigimortis of the legs.

Initially I was very apprehensive of how well I'd do in this "sprint" tri (1k swim, 22k bike, 5k run). It is well known on the swim team that I usually sit out for at least a 50 in any distance over 200 yards, and even more if its a repeated middle- or long-distance set. Typically its because my shoulders fatigue quickly (I'm built for sprinting). Add a wetsuit on top of those shoulders, and it only gets worse. Then there's the bike...I just bought a road bike and only rode it twice before the tri, which isnt much less than I've ridden my other bike since last fall. Lastly, I HATE running, and only ran a total of 6 miles within a month before the race.

Alas, the competitor in me kicked into high gear, and I was in good spirits come the start of the race:

Pumped up before the race.

So we (The Maestro and I) setup and suit-up...get ready for our wave of the swim to start. My strategy was take it long and slow, stay to the outside, and just hope to do the whole thing freestyle. Apparently 1min before the gun, The Maestro noticed a marked difference in my demeanour--going from jovial to ultra-competitive. What can I say, I'm thrive in competition. So as the swim started, I thought The Maestro was going strong, so I took off in a nice relaxed swim. Being on the outside, I went off course several times. The first turn I looked back and saw that most of the green caps (our age) were behind me. (Kickass!) It was then that I started eating the feet of the previous wave. I am not exaggerating with the term "eat"...the lake was as murky as a body of water gets; it was nearly impossible to see your stroking hand in the water. The ego boost of being out in front definitely improved my swim--the other reason I sit out a lot in distance practice is just the knowledge that I suck at a 200+, whereas I'll do sets of 200 IM's with no problem.

End of swim: 5th place age group; 17th overall (11min)

Transition: Let's just say that I was in the bottom 10% of T1 transition times. (3min : 51sec) I had lots of problems putting on my shirt--never again.

Bike: The course was very technical, with rolling hills, turns, and few straight-aways. At least it didn't get boring. But the hills were punishing, and its where I took over many people (it seems like people are afraid to stand and peddle...I dont know why). But after my 17th place in the swim (besides the absolute shitty T1), then only place I could go is down...which I did. Rank 144 (54min).

Stock pic of my bike...just add pedals and aerobars.

Transition: Not nearly as bad, though I dropped my Oaklies running from the "end bike" to the transition area, had to turn around and go back for em. Embarrassing, to say the least.

Run: This portion was the antithesis of the swim. Swimming I past just about everyone, running, everyone passed me. In all, I overtook two people. I had no legs to begin with...and the start was a sadistic uphill portion that made everyone just want to cry. But I ran/jogged the whole thing, which bettered my goal of "no walking."

The Maestro was not happy about getting smoked.

All in all, it was a very fun event, and if nothing, I learned a little about my own mental toughness. Needless to say, all I did when I got home was be lazy and sleep.

Not looking so fresh after the race.

Crazy black girls

I had two experiences today that I needed to share, thus recommitting myself to this blog...and boy have I left out a lot, which I will catch up on in due time.

First...
I'm getting lunch when one of the secretaries is talking to the fried rice at the buffet saying, "This is good stuff, I just dont like the brussel spouts in it."













....ummm, those are peas!


Second...
The Engineer was kind enough to send me this link, a reminder of what its like to live in ATL. God, I'm glad Metro is not anything like MARTA (aka, Moving Africans Rapidly Through Atlanta)

http://www.break.com/index/crazy-subway-girl.html