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Day 68-Xtrain/Swimming-#8kickstory

I am fierce.

Once again, my crazy personal schedule is holding our training schedule hostage and this week is going to be all jacked up:

  • Monday-Swimming.
  • Tuesday-Speed workout at track.
  • Wednesday-Rest.
  • Thursday-20 miles (What with Christy having to work on Thursday, I suspect we’ll start this run in the 4-5 a.m. range)
  • Friday-Rest day for me! 
    On Thursday, after my 20 mile run, I’m heading west to the home of the University of Arizona Wildcats to see yet another fabulous cousin, Zachary Clark, complete his matriculation (I have to be honest, I do not believe I am using this word correctly.  I think this is a made up version of a verb tense of the word matriculate that doesn’t exist and probably, should not exist.   If my father actually ever read any of these blogs of mine, he would jump at the chance to inform me of this grammatical crime against humanity).  Where was I? Oh yeah, so after a 20-mile run and a total of 10 hours of travel via bus, plane, and car-I suspect I will need Friday to teach myself how to walk again.
  • Saturday-Hitting the cardio machine and weights at the Courtyard Tucson Airport.
  • Sunday-Hittng the pool at the Courtyard Tucson Airport.

    You just run.

 Monday, Funday, Poolday
I got in the water at 5:35 a.m.  Here are some things I thought about while I was completing my Phase I workout (Christy P was joining me for Phase II around 6:00 a.m.):

  • I have seriously got to try to get some new goggles.  I don’t think I’m supposed to be taking these off in between every 2-4 laps to rinse them, spit in them and, and then wipe out with my finger-all in an attempt to defog them.
  • Why is the water so murky?  And this is much better than last week.  (Last week I felt like I was swimming in the Huron River, which, has had at times, a bit of an e.coli problem. Let me just add, I have not been swimming in the Huron River since the spring of 1985.  A young girl will go anywhere for some privacy with the love of her life.  I guess it was a good risk-I married him!)
  • There he goes again.  That guy is brave.  There is a man who swims at the YMCA in the mornings.  He is probably in his 50s.  He is in very good shape.  He wears a gold/metallic speedo-type suit and he does push ups and something like Tai Chi on the side of the pool as a warm up before he gets in.
  • Oh shit! The speedy guy is standing down at the end of the lane.  He’s going to get into my lane and there’s someone already in here with me and we’re going to have to do a circle swim and he’s one of the fastest swimmers here in the morning and he’s going to want to lap me and I’m going to hold him up and he’s going to get pissed.  Oh.  The other woman just switched lanes.  I guess it’s just the two of us.  Crap!  I hope I don’t swim too close to him.  Crap!  I hope I don’t have the other problem where I am trying so hard to not swim close to him that I hug the plastic lane dividers and skin my hands/elbows/arms/legs/feet-like I have before.
  • How do people turn around like that and head the other direction without stopping?  How do they know when they need to start to “dive down” to turn around?  How do they get close enough to the wall to push off with their feet while they are turning around and NOT hit their head?

    Running slow=faster than couch mongers.

Christy arrives and the very nice gentleman who has vacated his lane for us before, vacates it once again so the two of us can swim together!!  Yeah!!  I mean, Lord forbid that we have to swim in separate lanes.  And while it’s not as if we are communicating with each other via high-tech underwater devices while we swim, we do catch up with each other during the three sets where we are just kicking and holding on to the paddle board.

As always, we exchange our greetings and salutations (my favorite Charlotte’s Web reference) and I say, “Have I got a story for you.”  And her grin tells me she’s looking forward to it.

I shared with her the events of my Saturday afternoon and evening, which took place in Mount Pleasant and Midland, Michigan, over the course of my cousin’s graduation from CMU. 

Let me be brief and share some things I learned:

  • If your uncle is typing “111 North Spring Street, Midland, MICHIGAN” into his iPhone “Maps” and it keeps taking him to “111 North Spring Street, Midland, TEXAS” ……..
  • If you go online and can NOT find a restaurant listing for Luigi’s in Midland, MICHIGAN but you do find a listing for Luigi’s in Midland, TEXAS at 111 North Spring Street……
  • If your aunt calls the restaurant to confirm the reservation when it seems odd that 1) The restaurant doesn’t have a listing in Midland, Michigan and 2) The area code is a NON Michigan area code…….
  • In light of items 1 and 2 directly above, when your uncle asks for directions from Mount Pleasant and 1) The woman doesn’t hesitate for a moment to give them to him and 2) The highway route numbers are the same highway route numbers as what you know to exist in Midland, Michigan……
  • Well, you might just want to call the restaurant yourself and ask the woman on the other end of the phone straight out, “Are you located in Midland, MICHIGAN or Midland, TEXAS?”

Well, if you know Christy like I know Christy, you can imagine she found humor in this story, especially when she knew that I had been up at 4:00 a.m. on Saturday, didn’t get home until 1:00 a.m. on Sunday, and in between I squeezed in a cozy little 15-mile run. 

Well, if you know me like I know me, you can imagine that I was not able to tell this story in all its glory during our normal 4 lengths of the pool that we swim with our paddle boards and talk.  And so…we continued to kick and I continued to talk.

I think I’ve come up with a new kind of rating system.  Instead of something being JUST rated TVMA or G or R, etc., I think we should start using a rating system that measures how much time out of life it takes to tell the story.  In my case, it took at least 8 lengths of the pool, or as I like to say, “It’s an 8 kick story.”

Carry on, friends.  Carry on.

The ass which I generally kick is mine own.

P.S. If you don’t love this video, and if you don’t get chills, and if you don’t tear up just a little, and if you don’t want to head out directly afterwards for a run……well maybe you just aren’t addicted to running.  And that’s o.k., because someone has to do the laundry, feed the pets, make the food, do the grocery shopping, and clean the house!

4 Comments Post a comment
  1. Christy P #

    Great video! Greater story this morning at the pool. I have to tell you I laughed all day as I told bits and pieces of that story all over town. You forgot to mention the star of the evening…..the Magnificent Emma! How the heck a 7 year old kept it together through all of that I will never understand. Bravo, Emma, bravo!

    May 7, 2012
  2. Lynne Marie #

    She is only six with next to no food, but the entertainment kept her alive although it almost killed her grand mother (slight exaggeration) Great story and video. Have a wonderful, peaceful trip to AZ. Some things happen for the best.

    May 7, 2012
  3. Yes, that little Emma Ruth did great job! I think it was her aunt letting her borrow her camera and Emma walking around taking pictures. I suspect we’ll see a byline from one day in the New York Times! Bravo, indeed!

    May 8, 2012

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. Day 69 of 112-Speed/Track Workout-#feelin’groovy, #something’scoming | Rise. Run. Repeat.

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