Rolling through the wind

Back out on the prairies reminds me just how flat it really is around here. I guess training in the mountains has skewed my sense of perspective. After literally climbing for a couple of weeks, it was truly relaxing to get back out into the great wide open.

Look behind me in this photo. What do you see? That's right... mile and miles of nothing! You get to see as far as the curvature of the earth allows. You have to understand that I am bragging and as I have mentioned in earlier posts, I love the fact that you can really get gone here and not be surrounded by miles and miles of cars and utopian sprawl. Could you imagine training for something like this in Vancouver or Toronto. No way! You'd have to load up your bikes and head out of the city for miles before you ever get away.

I was literally grinning from eyebrow to eyebrow as I did my easy 50k today. I really love it here and I could not think of a better place to be, just me and the Giant as I roll through the wind.

P.S. - contemplating amputation of left ring toe-nail as it is now past the purple crimson phase and into a more of a grapeish licorice colour.

house husband meterosexuality

You guessed it.... today was the day where I made up for all my "time in the saddle," for all my time running on the ever so beautiful Hearte Trail and for all the time I spend in the pool. Lori's back hurt, so she needed some shopping therapy and I, and the kiddlets, cleaned the house.... and we are not just talking a "tidy" we are talking a deep - "scrub the toilets" - kind of clean.

So here's windex in your eye!

Now I want to begin by explaining that for those of you who don't know me, I am a neat freak! I cannot possibly be at ease in a messy room. Just one of those "AAAAA" type, obsessive compulsive kinda things about me. You put me in a room with a turned over trash can.... at some point I will have to get up and pick up the trash.... you could be Marylin Munroe wearing nothing but a luffa, and I would get up and walk away to pick up trash.

I also want to get another thing perfectly clear.... I love cleaning and vacuuming. I love the word vacuuming... where else can you get two u's in a row.....huh? Well for Carly... you have to think about Jaan Kirsipuu the Estonian Cyclist. But I digress........ again......

I do enjoy cleaning and house work. I have decided in my own introspection that it has something to do with the ease at which you start and end a project. let me explain. My "day" job, if you wish, requires hours and hours of preparation just to determine a possible start point and event then, after all those hours, you may not be starting in the right spot. As well, you are never every truly finished... it is hard to explain, but things just kind of end due to time constraints. But trust me, you never truly feel finished.

What I am trying to say, is that when you wash the dishes there is a definite start point and next to no prep. It is a mindlessly easy task and you are always aware of your end point. You can walk away after a few minutes and claim that you are done.

Today was all about getting my "Jones" on by sending Lori out for some shopping therapy without the kids and making the house as clean as possible so I can, ultimately relax.

I guess we should also address the underlying semantic issue here. Tidying is not cleaning. These are two completely different things and are often at the center of minor disagreement in our house. A typical conversation might go something like this:

G - "Man is the house dirty."

L - "What are you talking about? I just spent 2 hours cleaning-up."

G - "That may be true, but you didn't clean, you just put stuff away where it belongs.... that's tidying up, not cleaning."

L - "Give it a rest there Tri-Guy or you will get put away where you belong... in the garage with your bike."

G - "Okay I'll drop it..... I'll be outside 'tidying-up' the Giant."

So from my P.O.V. - tidying is just simply the act of putting crap away throughout the house. Sort of your normal every day putting the salt back in the cupboard when you are done with it. Cleaning..... well that's a whole different world of hurt. It involves: pledging the furniture, washing the walls, reorganizing the drawers.... including that one that all guys have that holds all our pack-ratted precious items dating back to Gr.12, (like today I found a entry ticket to Disneyland from '83...yep remind me to get that framed.)

The list goes on..... Vacuuming, dusting, watering plants, helping the kiddies determine that there is a floor in their room and that "polly-pockets and lego" can be put away even if it is only long enough for daddy to suck-up a few shoes and light-sabers with the trusty vacuum. It involves, washing things that don't normally get washed, like the kitchen sink - which needs to get shined, the toilet which needs to be scrubbed and I am not just talking the bowl... what about underneath. As well, the bathroom and the en-suite sinks need to be.... wait for it...... wait for it....... de-haired. Num num!

Nothing like pulling out a 10 inch... well let's just say that when I was done today.....

I pulled this guy out of the en-suite bathroom sink and he says, "Hi!"

I truly am not complaining and I do like the work as I have already explained.

I am very at ease with my house husband meterosexuality. That said, there is an inherent danger here. As my other "manly" friends might point out, there is an image for us to protect. Otherwise, you could be staring at a glimpse into the future of an Amazonian Utopia....

Now the big question..... did my 6 hours straight of cleaning constitute a workout?

Your comments welcome!

Just shallow and weedy

I have learned in my time as a daily... no hourly.... weather checker of the environment Canada website that I should never fully trust what is posted there. We had carefully planned to make our way out to Birds Hill park today as the weather was supposed to be marvelous!

So we get the kiddies all together and make our way to the beach after a brief return to the house as we forgot to pack a blanket to sit on. With all the construction going on around the new overpass system to the airport on Saskatchewan, it took us just over 45 minutes to make our way to the East beach.

While Lori and the kiddies played, I went into the water for a bit of a swim. I looped around the two aeration systems that are ringed off with buoys. I did 4 loops and called it a day. From my time, I can see that I am going to be doing 8 in the near future...... but let's not dwell on that. Let's celebrate the beautiful weedy swim that was today..... let's watch as the day unfolds.

Getting on the old neoprene... loads of fun and believe it or not, it goes a bit quicker when you put your feet and hands though in plastic baggies..... check out my technique.

You can look at him, but please don't feed the animals.

Come on in the water's fine... just shallow and weedy. I love it when they get stuck between my toes.... don't you.

Ready to go, just contemplating how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie-pop.

Now I have received some interesting comments from all you foot fetishists out there, so by popular demand, here are the remnants of my shattered toes. Keep in mind that they are looking better due to some lengthy soaks in epsom salts.

hmmmmmm...... I love purple.

The Cruel Shoes

Physio and a little acupuncture... can you think of a better way to start your day than with someone prying into your sore hammy and then sticking needles in your butt, thigh, calf and ankle?

.... nah... me... either.

Lori and I got a chance to hang out as Charles, my physiotherapist, went after my tender hamstring. I have been told that it takes 8 weeks to heal from a minute tear. I'm just about there and all of the hard work I have been doing on recovery is paying off.

We chatted some about my inserts giving my problems on the run portion of the race and in the end I fried my toes. As I was going around the course, the inserts soaked up water as, afterall, they are really just sponges. By the time I was done the race, they weighed as much as my shoes and squished as I ran. I could tell something was wrong, but what was i to do? Stop by the side of the road? I think if I would have stopped, I would have realized how bad m y feet were and it would have made it worse. Instead I just soldiered on in compete ignorance and hoped it was not too bad.

In the end, I had blisters all over my feet and both of my ring toes look like they are going to lose the nail. Thought of posting a pic, but you have already been grossed out by my funky leg. Needless to say, I am concerned and we decided that they have run their course and I can train without them for the time being and look at getting something more permanent in the Fall.

These crazy inserts remind me of a Steve Martin bit from his album - Comedy is not Pretty - from the early 80's..... click play and follow along with the text below.

Anna knew She had to have a new pair of shoes today, and Carlo had helped her try on every pair in the store. Carlo spoke wearily, "Well, that's it. That’s every pair of shoes in the place."

"Oh, you must have one more pair. . . .”
"No, not one more . . . . Well, we have the cruel shoes, but no one would want to try . . .
“Yes, let me see the cruel shoes!"
"No, you don't understand, you see, the cruel shoes are . . .'
"Get them!"
Carlo disappeared into the back room for a moment, and then reappeared carrying an ordinary shoebox. He took off the lid and removed a hideous pair of black and white pumps. But this was not an ordinary pair of black and white pumps; both were left feet, one had a right angle turn with separate compartments that pointed the toes in impossible directions. The other shoe was six inches long and was curved inward like a rocking chair with a vise and razor blades to hold the foot in place.

Carlo spoke hesitantly, ". . . Now you see . . . they' re not fit for humans . . ." "Put them on me."
"But... "Put them on me!"
Carlo knew all arguments were useless. He knelt down before her and forced the feet into the shoes.
The screams were incredible.
Anna crawled over to the mirror and held her bloody feet up where she could see.
"I like them."
She paid Carlo and crawled out of the store into the street.
Later that day, Carlo was overheard saying to a new customer, "Well, that's it. That’s every pair of shoes in the place. Unless, of course, you'd like to try the cruel shoes."

Once all of that was done, Lori and I headed out on a really nice recovery run down the Harte trail, that I have talked about before. It was a bit windy, but we managed to be out for just over 50 minutes.

Don't we just look fabulous? .......should of seen the shot after the run.

It is nice to run with Lori. I have to admit it is a real treat, as usually when we want to run, one of us has to stay at home with the kids....... however, today, the kiddies were off with daycare at St. Vital Park. Blake says it was, "fun." Yep, you guessed it....... he's the king of the adjective!

It was all 1939

There's just something about sleeping in your own bed.... ahhhhhhh... sigh.

Well..... apparently, my bike box does not fit in a Prius.... go figure.. this over enthusiastic cabbie grabbed our luggage as we left the terminal last night and was convinced he could make the Giant fit in his cab....... crazy indian man.

So.... after a nice limo ride home in the thunder and lightening, it was time to put together the Giant and take it out for a ride, as I have not abused it since race day last Sunday. Nothing spectacular here, just a load of chain lube and some seriously black hands.

Once all the bits and pieces were out of the box, I threw on my team jersey and set out into the wind.

How quickly I forgot what wind gusting to 50 feels like.

Holy headwind Batman.

Well to be honest all I could do was about 21 kmph on the way out to Headingley and about 45 kmph on the way back. I hit the overpass and summited at 45 kmph..... nice tailwind.

On the way out though, it was all Oz, 1939

X-Ray specs ain't all they're cracked up to be

Everything is all packed and the Giant is in his box ready for the chilly ride below the plane. We head off to Winnipeg in a few short hours, so instead of a lengthy tome today, I thought I would share some of my evening with you.

We were all sitting around my lap top screen looking through the pics from the race, and as we were chatting about this and that something odd stood out in one of the photos.

Before you scroll down a warning..... THIS IS NOT FOR THE WEAK HEARTED OR THOSE OF YOU WITH WEAK STOMACHS! [Don't forget you can double click and enlarge the images..... IF YOU DARE!!!!!!!!!]

See if you notice anything interesting about my finish.....

So here I am just milliseconds after crossing the finish line!

Maybe you can spot it in this one?

Nothing popping out at you?

What about now?

Alright people..... what the hell is with my quad? Weird shadow? I don't think so.... Dehydration to the point that my ligaments and tendons are rising to the surface of my emaciated frame? I have no clue... but it is cool....... no?

Medical people feel free to weigh in on this one.

Laughter is the best medicine

Blink.......

blink.... blink ....

Check watch.... 5:30 ........ coffee.....

Into the hot tub and a soak - try to relax my legs. The only nagging ache is my a.c.l. I had it done in the 90's and I always wonder if it is 100%...

That said I am still grinning like the Cheshire Cat...

Cheshire Cat: If I were looking for a white rabbit, I'd ask the Mad Hatter.
Alice: The Mad Hatter? Oh, no no no...
Cheshire Cat: Or, you could ask the March Hare, in that direction.
Alice: Oh, thank you. I think I'll see him...
Cheshire Cat: Of course, he's mad, too.
Alice: But I don't want to go among mad people.
Cheshire Cat: Oh, you can't help that. Most everyone's mad here.
[laughs maniacally; starts to disappear]
Cheshire Cat: You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.

Yep... I guess everyone suiting up in neoprene yesterday was just a little bit mad.... maybe even crazy from the heat (thanks diamond dave) And now, today, as I elevate my legs and rest up for the next big "three week" block that Pat has laid out for me.... I think I, too, can relate to the idea that after a three hour nap this afternoon, I am not all there myself.

I thought I would end today's brief post by rewarding my faithful readers. No there is not a contest or a giveaway... (besides who would want really my spatula, anyway) I thought maybe if you were finding this inspirational (like so many of you have already mentioned) I would give you a gift by sharing my relaxation and meditation protocol in preparation for the swim. I am really lucky to have friends like you to help me prepare. I realize that this might be a little too airy fairy, full of jiggery-pokery for some of you, but for those of you willing to watch... I am thinking you will be rewarded with some keen insight into the mind of the Tri-Guy. Pump up the volume and find a few minutes to yourself.... and follow the link...... YouTube - Triathlon Start