Shift UP!
Have a great one!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
What say you?
Setting
Catalina pool sits in a middle class neighborhood behind a High School that sports the same name. I have been swimming there off and on for probably 25 or more years, know the manager (he's been in charge of the city pools for longer than 25 years), his kids, swam there when pregnant with my daughter, and am still friends with one of the former lifeguards who now heads the Aquathlon series through our parks and recreation department.
It's outside, not covered, and has limited lap hours. It's a yard pool and has eight to ten lanes. (I guess I have really never counted.) It's usually pretty clean.
Lately it has been used by more people as a large number of the city pools have closed due to budget cuts. Currently there are five pools open in Tucson that are run by the city. It costs only $1.50 to swim, or it's even cheaper if you buy a yearly pass.
For the past few years I have opted to swim at the Davis Monthan Air Force base pool, which is indoors, not crowded, and a meter pool. It is currently closed due to having to change out the drains so that no one will be sucked into them and drown or be seriously injured. Apparently this has happened a couple times so I am cool with the drains being replaced.
Characters
The pool opens up for lap swim at 11:30 and stays open until 2:30. The high school also uses this pool for swim team. It reopens again at 5:00 until 7:00 p.m. I arrived at the pool before 11:30 and waited in line with others outside the door until it was unlocked by a lifeguard. I talked to Billy (pool manager) briefly and changed into my suit.
The last three or four lanes had already been "taken" by some regulars, mainly older guys in the neighborhood who probably swim there daily. There were a half dozen women my age or older also, and we grabbed the lanes closer to the locker rooms.
The pace is casual, and I wasn't "up" for a speed workout, even tho my training plan called for 8x100 with paddles after my 800 yard warm up and 300 yd. kick. The water was warmer than I liked and I knew I would have trouble pushing the pace.
I played a game of trying to stay with the skinny guy next to me, who isn't efficient, but just guts it out, kinda like how I swim. The only way I would "catch" him is on my flip turns, as he was all over the place had the thought more than once that I was rally happy I wasn't sharing a lane with him.
Fifteen minutes and 800 yards into my swim I noticed a half dozen very fit "youngsters" on deck, all decked in Splish swimwear and were clearly Triathletes. Very fit triathletes. I stopped to change out into my fins and noticed they were moving people around in the pool so they could swim together. I moved to one side of my lane, and thought maybe one would jump in but the girl stopped me and asked me to move to the next lane.
So...the question is: What do you think I did?
1.) Moved into the lane with skinny guy and avoided his awful flip turns.
2.) Agreed to circle swim and be "coached" by the guy that brought them in and had a great workout, kept up with them and
made some new triahlete friends.
3.) Agreed to share the lane, but said hell no to moving and informed her that my workout was just as important as theirs,
and in my 27 years of training for triathlons I had never thought of asking another swimmer move just so I could swim
with my "friends", or "team mates".
What d'ya think?
Catalina pool sits in a middle class neighborhood behind a High School that sports the same name. I have been swimming there off and on for probably 25 or more years, know the manager (he's been in charge of the city pools for longer than 25 years), his kids, swam there when pregnant with my daughter, and am still friends with one of the former lifeguards who now heads the Aquathlon series through our parks and recreation department.
It's outside, not covered, and has limited lap hours. It's a yard pool and has eight to ten lanes. (I guess I have really never counted.) It's usually pretty clean.
Lately it has been used by more people as a large number of the city pools have closed due to budget cuts. Currently there are five pools open in Tucson that are run by the city. It costs only $1.50 to swim, or it's even cheaper if you buy a yearly pass.
For the past few years I have opted to swim at the Davis Monthan Air Force base pool, which is indoors, not crowded, and a meter pool. It is currently closed due to having to change out the drains so that no one will be sucked into them and drown or be seriously injured. Apparently this has happened a couple times so I am cool with the drains being replaced.
Characters
The pool opens up for lap swim at 11:30 and stays open until 2:30. The high school also uses this pool for swim team. It reopens again at 5:00 until 7:00 p.m. I arrived at the pool before 11:30 and waited in line with others outside the door until it was unlocked by a lifeguard. I talked to Billy (pool manager) briefly and changed into my suit.
The last three or four lanes had already been "taken" by some regulars, mainly older guys in the neighborhood who probably swim there daily. There were a half dozen women my age or older also, and we grabbed the lanes closer to the locker rooms.
The pace is casual, and I wasn't "up" for a speed workout, even tho my training plan called for 8x100 with paddles after my 800 yard warm up and 300 yd. kick. The water was warmer than I liked and I knew I would have trouble pushing the pace.
I played a game of trying to stay with the skinny guy next to me, who isn't efficient, but just guts it out, kinda like how I swim. The only way I would "catch" him is on my flip turns, as he was all over the place had the thought more than once that I was rally happy I wasn't sharing a lane with him.
Fifteen minutes and 800 yards into my swim I noticed a half dozen very fit "youngsters" on deck, all decked in Splish swimwear and were clearly Triathletes. Very fit triathletes. I stopped to change out into my fins and noticed they were moving people around in the pool so they could swim together. I moved to one side of my lane, and thought maybe one would jump in but the girl stopped me and asked me to move to the next lane.
So...the question is: What do you think I did?
1.) Moved into the lane with skinny guy and avoided his awful flip turns.
2.) Agreed to circle swim and be "coached" by the guy that brought them in and had a great workout, kept up with them and
made some new triahlete friends.
3.) Agreed to share the lane, but said hell no to moving and informed her that my workout was just as important as theirs,
and in my 27 years of training for triathlons I had never thought of asking another swimmer move just so I could swim
with my "friends", or "team mates".
What d'ya think?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I was a horse
At least I wanted to be way back in second or third grade. Sue was too. We wore our waist-length hair in ponytails and galloped around the playground, whinnying, going fast. We raced each other and whomever else wanted to be a horse that day.
But you had to have the ponytail. Run to the slide, climb up, slide down, whinny and run over to the swings. Swing as high as you can, jump off to feel yourself suspended for just that split second in mid air and come crashing down in the dust below, get up and whinny and run or trot over to the monkey bars. Climb up to the top, whinny loudly, hang upside-down, only if you remembered to wear shorts that day under the mandatory dress or skirt. Climb down and run clear across the field to the chain-link fence and back. It was fun to be the fastest and first and throw back your head and shake your ponytail and whinny.
In fifth grade running took on a whole other meaning. The cute boys, David and Donny, were also the fast boys. So if you wanted to be able to get their attention, or catch them as you played tag, one had to be fast. The goal was to tie them to a tree with imaginary rope (if you caught them) and then pretend that you kissed. I don't actually ever remember kissing these guys, but it was fun again just to run, catch them, and pretend.
In middle school and most of high school running took a back seat to boys and other interests. Mainly boys and music and boys who were in bands, and even boys who weren't in bands. Running only came to the fore-front again as a senior in high school where a few of us "demanded" to be part of a track team. Title 9 was not in effect yet, but we talked our gym teacher into taking a few of us to a couple of meets (where the 400 was the longest race at that time!) and I was hooked.
I just returned from running a few miles. The mornings are warming up, the sun was already shining on the mountains to the west and the orange blossom fragrance was abundant. Getting out after being slightly ill the last few days was heaven. I almost wanted to break into a gallop, throw back my head and try to whinny. Ponytail and all.
But you had to have the ponytail. Run to the slide, climb up, slide down, whinny and run over to the swings. Swing as high as you can, jump off to feel yourself suspended for just that split second in mid air and come crashing down in the dust below, get up and whinny and run or trot over to the monkey bars. Climb up to the top, whinny loudly, hang upside-down, only if you remembered to wear shorts that day under the mandatory dress or skirt. Climb down and run clear across the field to the chain-link fence and back. It was fun to be the fastest and first and throw back your head and shake your ponytail and whinny.
In fifth grade running took on a whole other meaning. The cute boys, David and Donny, were also the fast boys. So if you wanted to be able to get their attention, or catch them as you played tag, one had to be fast. The goal was to tie them to a tree with imaginary rope (if you caught them) and then pretend that you kissed. I don't actually ever remember kissing these guys, but it was fun again just to run, catch them, and pretend.
In middle school and most of high school running took a back seat to boys and other interests. Mainly boys and music and boys who were in bands, and even boys who weren't in bands. Running only came to the fore-front again as a senior in high school where a few of us "demanded" to be part of a track team. Title 9 was not in effect yet, but we talked our gym teacher into taking a few of us to a couple of meets (where the 400 was the longest race at that time!) and I was hooked.
I just returned from running a few miles. The mornings are warming up, the sun was already shining on the mountains to the west and the orange blossom fragrance was abundant. Getting out after being slightly ill the last few days was heaven. I almost wanted to break into a gallop, throw back my head and try to whinny. Ponytail and all.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The three little javelinas...
And a couple of their cousins.
I love this book. If you have kids or grand kids it's a great re-tell of "The Three Little Pigs", and the illustrations are hilarious!
I got to hang out with a few of these creatures yesterday as I rode out at the Saguaro National Monument. I was on my second loop, the first loop being a "wake-up" loop and decided to stop at the picnic area and have a bite of my Power Harvest bar before I rode back to my vehicle.
As I slowed a small javelina trotted across the road right in front of me and I of course started talking to it, asking him (her) if she(he?) was alone or if he had friends in tow. (They usually travel in groups of more than two.) As I reached into my back pocket and rattled the paper to open and take a bite of the bar, his ears pricked up and his nose started sniffing and he started coming over to where I had stopped. Closer and closer. I could have reached out and pet him had I dared.
Then a friend of his came out of the bushes, and as I threw the first one a part of the Power bar, there were suddenly three more javelinas behind me. I threw another piece of bar to one of them, and they started following me, wanting more. I was surrounded by five javelina now, and was starting to get somewhat uncomfortable. They are usually harmless, but their eyesight is very poor and I didn't want them mistaking my calf muscle for a turkey leg so I kept scooting my bike away from them, but was totally fascinated by their antics at the same time. I could smell their muskiness they were so close to me.
I pulled away, a little scared, but was smiling at the same time. It's a treat to see them in the wild, but they sure have been conditioned to perk at the sound of paper and associate it with food.
And who knew that javelina liked Harvest Power bars. I sure didn't. Did you?
I didn't have my camera, so borrowed this image on line. They are so ugly they are cute. N'est pas?
I love this book. If you have kids or grand kids it's a great re-tell of "The Three Little Pigs", and the illustrations are hilarious!
I got to hang out with a few of these creatures yesterday as I rode out at the Saguaro National Monument. I was on my second loop, the first loop being a "wake-up" loop and decided to stop at the picnic area and have a bite of my Power Harvest bar before I rode back to my vehicle.
As I slowed a small javelina trotted across the road right in front of me and I of course started talking to it, asking him (her) if she(he?) was alone or if he had friends in tow. (They usually travel in groups of more than two.) As I reached into my back pocket and rattled the paper to open and take a bite of the bar, his ears pricked up and his nose started sniffing and he started coming over to where I had stopped. Closer and closer. I could have reached out and pet him had I dared.
Then a friend of his came out of the bushes, and as I threw the first one a part of the Power bar, there were suddenly three more javelinas behind me. I threw another piece of bar to one of them, and they started following me, wanting more. I was surrounded by five javelina now, and was starting to get somewhat uncomfortable. They are usually harmless, but their eyesight is very poor and I didn't want them mistaking my calf muscle for a turkey leg so I kept scooting my bike away from them, but was totally fascinated by their antics at the same time. I could smell their muskiness they were so close to me.
I pulled away, a little scared, but was smiling at the same time. It's a treat to see them in the wild, but they sure have been conditioned to perk at the sound of paper and associate it with food.
And who knew that javelina liked Harvest Power bars. I sure didn't. Did you?
I didn't have my camera, so borrowed this image on line. They are so ugly they are cute. N'est pas?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Rites of Spring
Contrary to popular belief we do have seasons in southern Arizona. Spring here means orange blossom fragrance that floats on the breezes for miles from it's source. Spring here means afternoon winds that make one curse on your bike rides. And spring here means allergies just like anywhere else.
I talk to my parents every weekend, back in Ohio, and mom is readying the garden plot. She talked of the soggy ground, removing decayed leaves and twigs from the area and having to postpone the cleaning up because of too much moisture. Her boots were being sucked off her feet as she walked in the mud and debris.
Spring back in Ohio has a much different fragrance and feel than here. It's wet and earthy and promising. It's looking up at the weak sunlight begging it to warm your bones so that you can maybe shed the jacket, sweater, and shoes even. It's finding the first robin perched on a branch of red buds. It's hoping that the green shoots of daffodil and crocus don't get covered by yet another layer of snow.
It's a feeling of excitement as a child because Easter is just around the corner with giant chocolate bunnies and permission to eat hard-boiled eggs in your lunch for weeks on end.
One particular spring I woke to sunshine and snow melt and dug the shorts out from the bottom of the drawer, refused to put on shoes and ran out the back door. I remember how cold but so inviting the wet, green ground felt under my feet as I started to the swing set. Mom yelled at me from the back door-"Cheryl Ann, you get right back in this house and put some shoes on!"
"Go to hell!" I answered back.
I think I was in third grade at the time and I was called back into the house to get my first taste of soap on a toothbrush.
And now, I can add the fragrance of Ivory soap to remind me of springtime.
These are the kind of hats we used to get at races in the 80s. Painter hats! Attractive hmm?
Thank god for Headsweats!
I talk to my parents every weekend, back in Ohio, and mom is readying the garden plot. She talked of the soggy ground, removing decayed leaves and twigs from the area and having to postpone the cleaning up because of too much moisture. Her boots were being sucked off her feet as she walked in the mud and debris.
Spring back in Ohio has a much different fragrance and feel than here. It's wet and earthy and promising. It's looking up at the weak sunlight begging it to warm your bones so that you can maybe shed the jacket, sweater, and shoes even. It's finding the first robin perched on a branch of red buds. It's hoping that the green shoots of daffodil and crocus don't get covered by yet another layer of snow.
It's a feeling of excitement as a child because Easter is just around the corner with giant chocolate bunnies and permission to eat hard-boiled eggs in your lunch for weeks on end.
One particular spring I woke to sunshine and snow melt and dug the shorts out from the bottom of the drawer, refused to put on shoes and ran out the back door. I remember how cold but so inviting the wet, green ground felt under my feet as I started to the swing set. Mom yelled at me from the back door-"Cheryl Ann, you get right back in this house and put some shoes on!"
"Go to hell!" I answered back.
I think I was in third grade at the time and I was called back into the house to get my first taste of soap on a toothbrush.
And now, I can add the fragrance of Ivory soap to remind me of springtime.
These are the kind of hats we used to get at races in the 80s. Painter hats! Attractive hmm?
Thank god for Headsweats!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Must be March
All the women who started lifting in January have mysteriously disappeared from the weight room.
I was the only "girl" there today.
I love the weight room.
I was the only "girl" there today.
I love the weight room.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Animal eye contact
On our ride after work we were graced by a bobcat crossing the bike path, directly in front of us. As I quietly called my husband's attention to it, it lumbered down the hill into the large wash (Rillito River-dry this time of year) and stopped.
We stopped.
We looked.
He looked.
Eye to eye. Checking each other out.
He was small and amazingly beautiful.
He then slid under a bush and sat down, but was still visible if you knew right where to look.
Two other cyclists pulled up along side and wondered what we were looking at.
"A bobcat", I said. " It's really pretty."
Rider number one : "Yeah, in my 25 years of riding, I have seen quite a few bobcats in Tucson".
My husband and I pulled away shaking our heads, wondering how sighting a bobcat in the middle of the afternoon, smack dab in the middle of town, could turn into a one-sided conversation about HIM and how many years he had been riding a bike.
The bobcat was pretty cool though.
The bike rider was pretty lame.
We stopped.
We looked.
He looked.
Eye to eye. Checking each other out.
He was small and amazingly beautiful.
He then slid under a bush and sat down, but was still visible if you knew right where to look.
Two other cyclists pulled up along side and wondered what we were looking at.
"A bobcat", I said. " It's really pretty."
Rider number one : "Yeah, in my 25 years of riding, I have seen quite a few bobcats in Tucson".
My husband and I pulled away shaking our heads, wondering how sighting a bobcat in the middle of the afternoon, smack dab in the middle of town, could turn into a one-sided conversation about HIM and how many years he had been riding a bike.
The bobcat was pretty cool though.
The bike rider was pretty lame.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Circa 1982
Before the days when participating in a triathlon became a fashion show.
Yeah, that's a t-shirt I am wearing.
No bike jersey with pockets. In fact I am wearing a "Liqui-pac". I am not even sure how to spell it. It's an antique now I am sure so I saved it.
No clip-in pedals. Check out the pedal cages on the bike.
No vented helmet. (Looks as if I am going to play tackle football!)
No SUNGLASSES???
Oh, and I have a bandana tied to my pack.
Yea, I bet I used THAT a lot during the ride! WTF?
Thank goodness I had on bike shorts for this half IM.
But I still had a good time and finished in under 7 and a half hours.
Keep it fun out there.
And never take yourself too seriously!
Yeah, that's a t-shirt I am wearing.
No bike jersey with pockets. In fact I am wearing a "Liqui-pac". I am not even sure how to spell it. It's an antique now I am sure so I saved it.
No clip-in pedals. Check out the pedal cages on the bike.
No vented helmet. (Looks as if I am going to play tackle football!)
No SUNGLASSES???
Oh, and I have a bandana tied to my pack.
Yea, I bet I used THAT a lot during the ride! WTF?
Thank goodness I had on bike shorts for this half IM.
But I still had a good time and finished in under 7 and a half hours.
Keep it fun out there.
And never take yourself too seriously!
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