Careful What You Wish For....

'They' always say that you should blog as if the person you'd most hate to read your your stuff is devouring every word. Well, that's true for those who give a damn about what people think, - which as my Mum reads this, is pretty much me. Hi Mum!

There should also be a caveat which states, be careful, and terribly, terribly aware that if you bleat about not being able to do a race because the entry fee seems a little steep that someone might just call you on it, and use their connections to make that fee go away.

Thanks Chilly, it appears that in *ouch* only three weeks time I'll be doing the Santa Barbara Triathlon.

Thankyou, you're a real friend......

.....(sarcasm may be real or implied).

Anna Counting

Un
TWO!
Fee Four Fife
SIX
Seben
NINE
Ten
A lemon
Telf
FOURTEEN!!!!!
Eight Nine Ten

Not Quite 100%

LK knows how to cut to the chase. My Mum has an abdominal scar 'from my tummy button all the way down'. Everyone's been asking how she's doing these days, but LK, he asks the real questions:

LK - 'So, could you take a punch to the gut yet?'
Mum - 'Er, well no, not quite'.

Do Or Not Do There Is No Tri

I'm trying to decide whether to do the Santa Barbara triathlon, which is hmm, let me see, only a month away....and so far I've only managed to decide that I definitely need to decide something....soon.

I've already done the race four times, and trained for it five times (the fifth ended in point twelve of this list).

I signed LK up for it over the weekend, and I'm being persuaded by two erstwhile good friends to do it again.

We have an entire group of friends who train together and have Mai Tai's afterwards, we are the Mai Tris:






























My nickname is 'Wonder' - sadly not because I'm any good, but because I'm whiter than Wonder Bread.

I am proud to say that I've introduced the English concept of half-hearted sporting achievement coupled with heavy drinking to the health-conscious Calif-yawn-ians.

We are the Mai Tris and we kick arse!

Although, truth be told, it is proving a little difficult to get this band of merry men (emphasis on the merry) to actually sign up this year. One is claiming a GIANT gallstone, another bi-coastal training issues, and others, well, what exactly is my excuse?

To be honest, I've never really enjoyed the race. I've always enjoyed the training and post-training bar sessions, but the race itself, lukewarm at best. For a start, it begins at about 7am, which means you have to get your kit down there at 5:30am, which is total bollocks. Then you have to deal with the massive queue for the toilets while the entire racing contingent suffers pre-race diarrhea. Lovely. Plus, it's knackering, don't be deceived by the race stats. If you tell anyone about the sprint course, they will always ask about the individual disciplines, and when you say a 1/3 mile ocean swim, 6 mile bike, and a 2 mile run, people will always go 'huh, well, that's not too bad', except it is, honestly, unfathomably bad. Anyone can do this race, but unless you're in damn good shape, it's not easy to do it without it hurting. A lot.

Here are some photos of previous races. Do I look like I'm having fun?























Also, point number 2, it costs $100. That's a bloody expensive T-shirt

Mainly though, the reason I'm prevaricating is that I can't trust my body not to throw in the towel. I'm good at tests and exams, but anything physical and there is no amount of training that will guarantee I will not spack out and under-perform on the day. I am just not a natural athlete. I went to yoga last night with a good friend, and on more than one occasion I was waving the wrong limb at the instructor. OK, obviously that's just stupidity, but in all honesty I find it very hard to get my body to do what my mind thinks should be a breeze. Also, it was rather hard to keep a straight face when our yoga teacher (and imagine your quintessential nasal Californian here) saying 'now let's go in to dolphin prelude, dolphin pray-lood'. That and 'restorative pigeon' had me biting down on my bolster.

Come race day I always get a massive stitch on the final run, and on one truly tragic occasion a remarkably sprightly but still, 68-yr old man, asked me if I needed 'medical assistance'. Good times. That's what sucks, training for months, and then having a bad race because you were nervous beforehand and swallowed too much air and then had to run with a stomach like a barrage balloon.

Now my brother on the other hand is a complete natural athlete. He's just done the Great Knaresborough Bed Race - you've probably heard of it. No? Hmm, surprising. Well, it involves something akin to a bed, but in the same say that an American SAT test will say 'contraption is to bed as absinthe is to blank'. Exactly. He also did the Great North Run and managed to keep a nifty pace for the entire race 'only because I was worried some chav was gonna nick me trainers in some of the dodgy bits'. Every athlete needs an incentive.

Anyway, I'm looking for advice - should I do this or not? I had decided that tonight's ocean swim with the girls would be an acid test. If I felt good, and could swim the half mile no problem, then yes, I should consider the race. As it turns out I got halfway out to the buoy and I was already struggling. I wasn't feeling streamlined, there was a tonne of kelp in the water which kept freaking me out, and I felt like my wetsuit was twice the size as normal. Well, note to self, remember to zip up your chuffing wetsuit before embarking on a half mile swim. By the time I got out I looked like a whale with edema.

So, yes or no?

Did We Provide You With Exceptional Service?

You've got to love the Nordstrom Half-Yearly Sale. I dragged my arm-load of 'bargains' to the checkout and the following happened:


Nordstrom Sales Associate: 'Hi, was anyone helping you today?'

Me: 'Er, yes she was, oh and I think you should know that the lock in changing room 10 doesn't seem to be working, I got stuck in there'

N.S. Ass: 'Oh my God you poor thing. Did you get out?'

Me: 'No, no I didn't. You should probably call someone.'

Waving Not Drowning

Thankyou for all your hastily typed e-mails and comments, I didn't mean to alarm anyone. I'm fine really, stiff upper lip and all that. It's actually very easy to live in this town, I just manage to make it look hard.

That piece of asparagus though, whew, now that was challenging. Just be thankful I didn't take a photo, that's all I'm saying.

Lucky Number 13

I have just literally pulled a six inch long piece of asparagus out of my daughter's arse. How's your day going?

There are details to this story, but this isn't that kind of website. Yet. I will just say that yes, I am certain that it was vegetable not animal, although halfway through pulling it out I was justifiably thinking parasite.

We had some bad news yesterday, nothing major, just another hope thwarted, and it's left me feeling worn out and heavy, as if I'm walking around inside a lead overcoat. I'm getting tired of non-stop setbacks and disappointments; none of it major, certainly none of it worth anyone's attention or pity, it just feels like a thousand tiny paper-cuts to the soul. If I was a giant magic 8-ball right now I'd be reading 'outlook not so good'.

And, as if the asparagus incident wasn't enough I just washed and dried my three strands of baby-fine blonde hair, then picked up LK's brush instead of mine and managed to gloop on 3lbs of residual Longs Drugs Maximum Hold Gel. I look like Snape's evil twin sister.

AND our next door neighbour is playing some kind of all-base drum medley which has left me resorting to sticking play-doh in my ears, which I'll admit is probably not a good idea either for my ears or the play-doh.

On the other hand, my self-pity isn't so all-encompassing that I can't be genuinely happy for other people's good fortune. Take julia for example. Pregnant with twins, normal twins, and this is her 13th pregnancy. I have been reading her truly brilliant blog for a long time now, and if anyone deserved a good roll of the magic 8-ball it was her.

So there you have it. Can anyone say PMS?

Easy Does It

On our way to the beach this evening to go running:

Me: I just had a Coke so I might get a stitch

LK: I just had a Dr. Pepper so my legs'll probably fall off.

Happy Dependence Day

No, in answer to your oft-repeated question. We don't have the 4th of July in England.

We lost.

.....or, another fave at this time of year, 'yes of course we do, it comes right after the 3rd'.