rock n' roll dedication

All day I was dreading my training. Run 6 then swim 30. Run 6 then swim 30. Run 6 then swim 30. It was haunting me. Shouldn't be so bad, but I was hitting a mid-training slump. Then as I was getting ready to meet Becca for the running portion of the workout, I realized I was missing something.

I would say 4 out of the 7 days of the week something is missing. Yesterday I couldn't find my knee strap. The day before that I forgot one of my flip flops for the gym shower. Then the day before that I forgot my Penn Card that lets me into the gym. It's always something. My mind's on other things and the only thing I care about it is that my running shoes and bathing suit are packed. All else is expendable for some reason (which is not true which I discovered when I tried to run in a regular bra).

But as I rummaged through my bag I realized that my swimming cap and goggles were missing. Then I realized that i had left them in the gym shower the night before. Instantaneously I was sad. Then I was relieved. Oh well, can't swim today... right???? right??? I needed someone else to validate that thought.

In the Team and Training video one of the coaches poignantly remarked, "What we're doing is so much easier than what the patients we're swimming for goes through." So I stopped in Philly Runner and got my second (but probably not final) pair of goggles and swim cap.

I visited the gym's Lost and Found on my way to the pool. A super cute tall, probably barely 21, muscular handsome --what other adjectives can I use?-- guy helped me rummage through the surprising number of snorkeling gear (who uses snorkeling gear at the gym? and why am I not in that club??). As he picked apart several gross looking pairs of spandex he asked, "what did it look like? your cap?" ... and I paused, then laughed out loud and said "it was black and white and it said 'Rock N' Roll.'" He laughed and stood up. Clearly such a cap was not in this pile. "I know, it's a little cheesy," I admitted. "But I didn't really think it would be here." He laughed again and said "Well, if I see a cheesy cap, I'll put it aside for you. Rock n' Roll!"

Run 6, swim 30. Sure. Why not? Could be worse. Rock n' roll, baby.

there was a bandaid at the bottom of the pool when Talia and I were swimming the other day. I got so grossed out because it was in my lane and I would stare at it as I swam above it. I kept thinking about what it was originally covering (bacteria infested scab? papercut? nipple?). And it was hard for me to swim because I kept thinking about how I was swallowing the pool water + whatever bacteria was on the bandaid. Luckily after 30 mins the bandaid migrated to the next lane over.

thank God the river we're swimming in is so so dirty--i mean, murky that you're left only to your imagination what's on the bottom of the pool (versus it staring directly at you as you swim over it).

i used to laugh...

I used to laugh when people would ask me if I did the three sports in the same day. Like, I would think "obviously!"

Today was probably the hardest I've pushed myself in swim practice-- a straight hour of swimming with a maximum of one minute break in between drills. Then I tied my soggy hair in a bun and threw on a sports bra for a quick hilly run with the rest of the team. Thank God I had that powerbar in my back pocket. The legs felt heavy, the sun was microwaving me, and I couldn't stop obsessing about stopping to walk but making myself keep pace.

After the run I asked a teammate, "Do I have do these three sports in the same day?"
Minus the laugh.

Mom and Dad, the doctor says I'm fine...

Dearest Mom and Dad,

When I came home for my birthday last weekend instead of presenting me with delicious ice cream cake with chocolate crunchies, I got a newspaper article that was titled "Triathlons lead to death"... thank you New Jersey Star Ledger paper for your TIMELY article. Apparently, when people swim in open water with a crowd of crazy athletes, they suddenly collapse. I can sympathize.

You called me and you insisted and you pleaded... And so I saw Dr. Pittman yesterday. She tapped me in all the right places. She pressed her cold stethoscope and prodded appropriately. She quizzed me on my activity. And she wanted to know how many people in my family have died from activity. I told her I might be the first. She didn't think that was funny.

But alas, she gave me the go-ahead and patted me on my poofy hair in a supportive kind of way. I can tell from her eyes-- it was the easiest 20 bucks she ever made (or however much Keystone will give the poor hardworking woman).

So Mom and Dad, the doc says I'm healthy to participate. I might get diseases from swimming in the Schuylkill River-- but that's another medical appointment... One at a time. Besides, I hear they have a cream for that.

Love,

Your Craz(ier) Daughter Di