Friday, June 30, 2006

Bonus Round

Luna Bars were on sale!! For a DOLLAR!

I bought 2 cases. :D

(OK, nooooow I'm waiting for lightning to strike. Life can't possibly continue to be this good.)

Oh, and the Really Really Best Part...

Today my weight hit a new low (47 down!) AND a few days ago I got into the next smaller size of jeans (18)!!

Great Way to End a Bad Day

The wonderful bike ride I went on Wednesday was actually the first good thing that happened that particular day, of which I'd spent a good portion crying for various reasons (the primary one being I learned my plans to be in London and Paris with dear friends over Christmas/My Birthday/New Year's were dead, because we didn't have time to come up with the $2000 down payment, which I learned at lunchtime that day was due that day).

So, going on my first real workout in weeks and having it go well was exactly what I needed that night. And then it just kept getting better.

Shortly after I got home - hadn't even changed out of my bike gear - my friend Debbie called to announce she was on her way over for a joy ride in her Grandma's birthday present. She's storing the surprise in her garage for 2 more weeks and wanted us to have fun with it first. Needless to say I was all over it.

So I grabbed a beer - 'cause hey, it's got cupholders - and we (me, Debbie and her sister) cruised our neighborhood in this ridiculous Nascar-themed bright green golf car. It was freakin' hysterical and we laughed our asses off.

The funniest part was that, while we were tooling along, a guy on a Harley went by. Then we were stopped to chat by yet another neighbor, and while we were sitting there the Harley guy came back around. It was my friend Jim. He lives in another part of town, so this was a major coincidence.

He'd just been out for ride, enjoying the nice day. And then he passes us and is thinking "Was that?!... Michelle??? ...drinking beer in a Nascar golf cart?!?" So he turned around to find out if it was really me or if he had inadvertently taken some powerful drugs.

So that was a blast. Then I got home to find my friend Regner calling to see if I was available to go out with his girlfriend Friday night (she only recently moved here and was a bit shy about calling me herself, which I thought was adorable considering she and I have already spent an evening drinking together). She was setting up a girl's night out because she got tickets to the Chicago Symphony at Ravinia!!!

The best part was that she didn't know it's a gorgeous outdoor venue and we get to bring a picnic, and she was sooo happy when I told her. (Oddly enough, just a few weeks ago I scored a brand-spanking-new, tags-intact Ravinia backpack at a garage sale and have been looking for an excuse to use it.) A few quick phone calls later we had our foursome - none of the girls hesitated for a second to jump on board. We're so excited it's not even funny. This is going to be So. Much. FUN!

I guess the powers that be were trying to make up for losing out on Europe, because I when the day ended I'd completely forgotten my disappointment and only had things to be happy about.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Scenic Summer

After nearly 3 solid weeks of inactivity I've been dying to get back into the swing of things, but have been fearful of aggravating my various injuries. The one thing I thought I could probably do was bike, so after getting the go-ahead from Sports Massage Therapist Holly I ditched work a little early and took Donna out for a spin.

I meant to take it slow and easy and make it short, just to see how I felt. 30 minutes tops. I knew there was no guarantee some part of my damaged anatomy - knees, calves, low back, shoulder - wouldn't start screaming at any moment, so instead of my routine cruise down the endless bike trail, I decided to explore the neighborhoods near my house.

A half hour in I knew I should have gone home, but I felt fine and I just couldn't talk Donna into turning around. We explored the drunkenly winding streets and cul-de-sacs of the neighborhood across the road. Still she urged me on, refusing to return to her prison in the dim and dusty garage.

We rode on, heading into the next neighborhood. Still wanting to keep close to home, instead of continuining east to the trail we turned down every side street, investigating a neighborhood I knew only to pass through. We exhausted every hidden Trail and Lane and Court, but still, when we reached the street that led home she would not turn back.

So we took the next side street, this time to the left. This one wandered off from a 3-way stop in a direction I'd never been, never thought of going. We struggled briefly, almost crashed because we were forced to stop on an uphill to allow half a dozen cars to pass before we could take the left. But Donna really wanted to go, and once I took my first real look down that open, inviting street, so did I.

I still can't believe what I found back there. Nothing extraordinary, mind you. Just extraordinary to me, a kid who grew up in an isolated rural area. I guess I never believed such things existed outside of a Norman Rockwell painting.

Kids were riding their bikes in the quiet streets. Gathered in driveways, eating dripping ice cones. Playing with dogs that inevitably barked at my passing. The buzzing drone of lawnmowers underscored the laughter and the barking and the wind in my ears. It was so peaceful.

Then I turned a corner and passed an idyllic little pond, sunlight glinting off its still waters, and was once again amazed. How could I have not known about this lovely little tableau, so close to my own home?

After making a tentative exploration into the edges of this new neighborhood, the fifth of the ride, I finally succombed to reason and headed back; this time Donna didn't fight me. On the surface, I was satisfied with my workout - I managed 12 miles in 60 minutes, held a nice relaxed cadence between 75-85 and my HR in the 140s. Perfect, I think, for an active recovery ride.

But I found myself happy on a deeper level. My injury had forced me to slow down and look at what was right in front of me, and I found myself enamored with what I found right here in my own back yard.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Last Night I Dreamt of Running

I never imagined the most painful part of healing this injury would be sitting still.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Internal Dialogue

Had you been listening inside my head during my massage therapy session this morning, this is what you'd have heard.

"Ok, here we goooooOOOOOWWW!"

"Wow, did that suck. But surely it can't get much worse than... OH! WHAT THE FUCK! OOOOW!"

"OK, it's fine, just relax. See, that's not so..."


Breathing hard.


Sweating now.


Head buried in arms, biting off the screams that want out.


Clutching the edges of the table.

And so it went. For the longest 30 minutes of my life. (Oh, and she "went really light" on me because it was my first time.)

All I can say is this: next time I pay someone to manipulate my body to make me sweat, breathe hard, moan and clutch the edges of a bed it better not feel like THIS.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

What does a triathlete do with her time...

... when injury doesn't allow her to to swim, bike or run?

She finds stuff like this.

Yeah, I know it's lame it can't be a direct link. Legal age and all.
1) Enter your birthday to get in.
2) Select Real Men of Genius from the menu
3) Listen to all the spots
4) Laugh your f'ing ass off

Monday, June 19, 2006

Etiquette Question

I've got my first appointment for a sports massage therapist on Friday.

To tip or not to tip? That is the question.

My previous experience has only been with a standard massage therapist in a salon/spa type atmosphere, in which tipping is expected.

But this woman specializes in runners and works most of the time directly out of a doctor's office. I'm just lucky... I live in her zip code and came to her as a personal referral from our doctor, so I get her discounted rate and do the session in her home (as opposed to driving an hour to her office).

Because this truly for medical reasons a not spa atmosphere, my gut says this is not a tipping situation. But I want to be sure. Anyone know what's expected here?

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Making Lemonade

I've basically resigned myself to not racing next weekend... BUT!!

I realized that this is the perfect opportunity to gather potential stories for the Back of the Pack book project!

So between now and next weekend I'll be:
- create an online questionnaire, so people who don't want to talk in person can submit information
- building an informational web page devoted to the project
- printing up some business cards with the website on it

Once I establish verbally someone is interested in talking to me about it, I can hand out the cards so they can get in touch when they're not in race recovery mode.

I'm getting excited about this project. Maybe being forced to volunteer instead of compete is a blessing in disguise. I can meet a lot more people this way, and hopefully help share some of the amazing stories out there with the rest of the world.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Worse than a DNF?

Saw the doctor about my calf pain and he pretty quickly said it will likely keep me from racing next week.

He said I have to use heat and gentle stretching and do nothing (GAH!!!) "until the pain goes away"... and he said he had no idea how long it would take. Oh, and I have to wear either heel cups or heeled shoes to shorten the calf muscle while it's healing. And he said to get in with a sports massage therapist as soon as possible; he put in me in touch with one, said she's been to the Olympics, so I'm optimistic this one knows what she's doing.

The hardest part is not knowing a timeline. But, seeing as how I've been nursing this for over a year and it just blew up on me 3 days ago, I think it's safe to assume it won't be miraculously healed by next weekend.

For the future, he suggested a new way to tie my shoes that might help prevent flare-ups.

At this point I have two options.

1) Do the race anyway, swimming it super slow to baby my shoulder and then walking, potentially limping in excruciating pain, the run leg.

2) Apply for a medical rollover for the race entry. If Swim Coach Marcy doesn't want to go it alone I can still head down to volunteer for the race. My only concern is if I can be on my feet all day without affecting the injury.

I'm pretty sad about it, and keep thinking 'if it doesn't hurt by next Friday then maybe...' but I know I have to do the right thing. It is just a sport and it is just a hobby and it would inexcusably stupid of me to further aggravate a partially healed injury over something that, even though it was my goal for the summer, is ultimately just for fun.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006


I want to swim. My shoulder won't let me.

I want to run. My calves won't even let me walk around.

I want to do yoga. My shoulder won't allow half the positions, and my calves won't allow the other half.

I'm afraid to bike. I desperately want to, even put it in my schedule today. But every time I try to make myself go get dressed I'm paralyzed, in tears.

I feel so lost. I'm scared, not of the pain but of what it might mean. For my race season, for my overall condition, for my ability to continue losing weight if I can't continue to exercise at this level. And the very things I count on to make me feel better are the things causing my pain.

I did something today I swore I wouldn't - I pulled the medical rollover form from the race site. I haven't used it yet. Won't, until I know with certainty it's not possible. Thankfully they seem to understand this about triathletes, and allow us to submit it after the race is over, to literally give us up until the starting gun to find a way to compete.

This was supposed to be the year I took it easy, the year racing didn't matter to me because my real goal is weight loss. I had no idea how important my race is to me until now, until the threat of losing it. I still have another one in 3 weeks, but that one is incidental to me. Logistically it's such a pain I don't even want to do it; the only thing bringing me back is my desire to conquer that lake, to swim it with some semblance of dignity. The race next week is my real race, my goal race for this year, and the first race of the season I planned to use as an annual benchmark.

I need to stop crying, I need to deal with this. It may end my season, but I refuse to let it end me as a triathlete. I just need some direction, someone to tell me where to go next. Because I feel so damn lost.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006


I thought I'd conquered the problem I had last year with my calves - I'm really careful about warming up and stretching, then if they start to feel tight I pause in my workout to stretch some more, then I always do post-workout stretching. And the pain this season, so far, had been minimal. Even had a few workouts with none at all.

But about a week ago it came back. I had a treadmill session that was just awful - had to stop every few minutes to stretch, and finally gave up altogether. There was serious tightness and some pain, and stretching just wasn't taking care of it. The thing is, as soon as I stop the workout it goes away, so it's easy to forget about it.

Until tonight.

I went out on this beautiful evening to get in a nice long run. My doctor gave me a bunch of great training tips yesterday and I was eager to try them out.

Within 50 yards of just walking I knew something was wrong - my calves felt worse than they ever had. I stretched a lot, but within seconds the tightness came back. I kept walking short bits then pausing to stretch, which usually does the trick, but I just couldn't shake it. I tried jogging a while, and the pain seemed less then, but as soon as I had to slow down to a walk or to pause to stretch them it flared out of control. Within a mile I was limping, scared, and starting to cry. The pain was that intense.

I clearly had to abort the workout, but at that point was stuck a mile up the trail. There was nothing for it but to run back. The pain was least severe when jogging; walking made it triple and standing still added a burning, throbbing element that actually made me say bad things out loud.

I haven't felt pain like this in any voluntary activity in my life - one bad surgical recovery came close (but that was worse, because nothing made it stop hurting for a week). It truly brought tears to my eyes, and I could not believe I was out on the shady dirt trail on a gorgeous 73 degree day, crying from intense pain.

Then I was also crying from frustration. If my legs hurt, I should lay off running and swim. But I can't swim because my shoulder is injured. I've got a race in 10 days and I can't fucking prepare for it and I can't bring myself (yet) to pull the trigger and opt out. It would be an easier decision if I didn't have someone expecting me to race with them.

I'm in the process of trying to schedule a massage. I hope to hell it does some good.

Humbling Conversation

While I was at the doctor for my shoulder, I took the opportunity to ask him about training with a heart rate monitor. It's such a new thing for me I need all the advice I can get.

I knew he was a runner - a marathoner, in fact - and since he's been my doctor for 9 years I figured he'd probably be able to give me solid advice that took my questionable medical status into consideration.

He's one of those unassuming guys that exudes a quiet confidence. He's tall and thin, nothing special to look at physically, but he's one of those guys that, once you learn they're an endurance athlete you're not surprised. It just kind of explains the thing you couldn't put your finger on, the thing that makes you like them even more than you already did.

Like I said, I knew he was a runner, and earlier this year I learned that his personal goal is a 3:30 marathon; he was disappointed with a 3:40-something performance last year. That sounded crazy fast to me, but I didn't think much about it other than thinking it was nice to have an idea of what kind of a runner he is.

He talks to me about running with enthusiasm and no condescension whatsoever. He makes me feel like I'm a Runner too, and it's easy to forget where he's at compared to me. Yesterday, to illustrate our conversation about heart rate training, he gave me some concrete numbers of his so I could understand more clearly the huge differences and why it's such a personalized training tactic.

Even though I truly am content to be a back of the packer, even though I'm honestly happy with just showing up and finishing considering my health, and even though I don't care one bit about winning races... while he talked I could feel myself slipping into humilation. Here I was, struggling to maintain a 13:00 pace, and he was telling me about how he was really frustrated with his performance in the Shamrock Shuffle because he only managed 6:45 miles (as opposed to his standard 6:30). But, he told me, he'd been injured so he didn't beat himself up about it (actually, that part of the conversation was about my injured shoulder and not expecting a great race performance in 10 days).

He said more than once that I need to not think about other people's times. Especially when they're someone like him - who, it turns out, is a top-ten age-grouper in the Chicago area, and has been a serious runner for probably longer than I've been alive. And I know he's right, but it's still tough sometimes to realize there are people running more than twice as fast as me who still think they're slow.

He was teasing me - said I needed to not be so competitive. I laughed and said I don't have a competitive bone in my body, but he said "oh yes you do!" Then he grinned, and it seemed he took real joy in explaining to me that now that I'm starting to see improvement, I'm becoming competitive with myself.

Can't argue with that one.

I was both both awed and humbled by what I learned in that conversation. And definitely inspired to keep working at it.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Got Off Easy

Doctor says supraspinatus tendonitis with possible impingement.

I have to take Naprosyn twice a day and lay off swimming for a week. Thankfully I'm still allowed to bike and run, although he said to avoid the aero position until it's healed.

After a week of rest and anti-inflammatories he said I can go for an easy 200-300 yard test swim and see how it feels. No pain, I'm allowed to do a 400 yard test swim. No pain after that, I'm allowed to race. If it's a problem, I need to abort and he'll write me a medical excuse to defer the race entry.

After I limp through the races I have to ease back into swimming. No sprint repeats for a while!

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Time Out

Friday morning my shoulder started hurting. By Friday night I couldn't even reach for a glass without fairly significant pain. Getting undressed for bed was a real bitch - ever tried to unhook a bra with one arm? At the time, the idea of getting in a swim workout anytime soon was comical.

I happened to be visiting back home, and my dad and Grandma, who've both had rotator cuff tears, insisted the location and nature of the pain I was describing was exactly that. I was wigging out, but held out hope because the intensity of the pain my dad described was far beyond the pain I was feeling. This is a 59 year old farmer that doesn't bat an eye when he accidentally takes a chunk out of his leg with a chainsaw (true story). So when he said he was screaming from the shoulder pain, um... yeah. Freaked me out. But my pain was more of in the range of 'intense muscle ache with a hint of sharpness'.

My biggest concern wasn't the possibility of a painful surgery and even more painful recovery, my biggest concern were my 2 races in the next 4 weeks. I started hoping that rotator cuff surgery is a good enough reason for the medical deferrment clauses some races allow those non-refundable entry fees to be used next year.

By the time I went to bed Friday night it took an ice pack and 600 mg of Ibuprofen to get me to where I could sleep. I kept telling myself it couldn't be a tear because I haven't done anything the day before to hurt it. Weight lifting two days prior went fine. Hadn't been swimming in 5 days. Maybe I just slept on it funny.

Saturday I was very cautious with it, still hurt to get dressed or do something like reach for the radio in the van (driving home for 4 hours), but pain was noticeably improved.

Woke up this morning and it's still sore but the worst of it is gone; now that I can move it without too much pain I noticed fancy new sound effects thing happening when I move it. Definitely cancelling the open water swim I'd planned for this afternoon and calling the doctor in the morning.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Respect and Fear

I admit it. I've been cavalier about preparing for my sprints this year. And now I'm afraid of what that's going to mean when I line up at the start in 2 weeks.

I had it easy last year. Brand new freelance business, not a lot of work, lots and lots of free time to train. It was routine for me to indulge in a 2-3 hour training session in the middle of the day if I didn't have a project going. Because of that freedom, I went into my races feeling as prepared as I could be.

But as my business continues to grow, I'm finding it tougher to juggle the demands of training and housework and actual work. Tougher still to handle the extra responsibilities of owning a business - Chamber chairmanships, self-promotion, accounting, updating my website... there are times I work all day and never make a dime because I don't get paid to work for my own business.

Still haven't perfected this juggling act some of you make look so easy, and I can also admit I still waste more time than I should. At the moment if any one thing is getting enough attention then by default the others are suffering. I realize everybody else does it every single day, and I'm not asking for sympathy. I realize I need to suck it up and work it out, and that I had it incredibly easy last year.

Because little things like my car payment aren't going away any time soon, and my husband only puts up me ordering take-out for so many nights in a row (he does dishes and laundry and vaccuums, so it's not like he's being unreasonable), the thing that's suffered the most is my training. Somehow, gradually, I've cut down from 6-8 workouts a week to 4-5.

And I let that happen because I haven't respected the distance. I know I haven't. Even as I have the thoughts - I know I can do this, I did it last year - I catch it and remind myself that I did double the training last year and that I may very well blow it this time around.

I'm starting to fear it. And I don't want to be afraid of it; triathlon is my life's blood, my passion, the place I find joy. How can I have any fun if I'm afraid of it?

I've already made peace with the absolute certainty that I will not make my holy grail goal time of under 2 hours. But thanks to the wisdom of my fellow bloggers I did set tiered goals, and the way I'm performing right now there's a good chance I can still make my 2:15 goal. And if my body really needs to teach me a lesson about preparation and I don't even match last year's time, I can still fall back on my Back of the Packer philosophy: the finish line looks great no matter when you get there.

I can say I'm proud of myself. Not for undertraining or my temporary lapse of judgement or my unbelievable ability to waste time online... of those things I am properly ashamed. But when it got tough, things may have slipped a bit but I didn't give anything up. I've seen it happen, seen friends tri until time got tight, then it was the first thing to go. I could have dropped it but I didn't. My resolve only grew stronger to make it all fit, to be better and more efficient. And I'm proud of that, because the me I was a few years ago probably would have quit.

I've learned some things this season. About time management. About efficient training. About respecting the distance even if it's a familiar course. Now it's time to take those lessons and put them into practice.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006


Saturday's weather was glorious and after getting through my committments for the day I was thrilled to have just enough time to sneak in a brick workout before sunset.

I drove out to the country for my favorite peaceful ride full of rolling hills. I did 20K on the bike in 1:01, an easy 4 minute transition and then a 30 minute run-off.

This was the first time I wore my the heart rate monitor on the bike, and I got a rude awakening regarding my previous assumptions about my fitness levels in that event. Even when I felt comfortable my heart rate was spiking out of the zone, and even on the easy hills it was maxing out. I was tempted to ignore it because honestly, I feel fine, but a little voice in my head kept telling me to listen to the monitor and back off. Hence the slow time. For miles and miles the voices in my head argued about it, but I tried my best to do what the monitor said.

I felt like a disembodied voice was whispering urgently inside my mind, trying to tell me something in a language I was only starting to understand. The entire ride I pushed the voice away, not wanting to dwell on something I clearly wasn't ready to grasp yet.

It hit me around mile 9. Suddenly, like the whisper in my mind found a megaphone.


Holy. Shit. Disembodied Voice is right.

At that moment it was like all the pieces of the puzzle, all the things I'd read about - nutrition, glycogen reserves, heart rate zones, fat burning rates - came together into a coherent image and I saw the big picture. I'm burning up all my glycogen reserves on the bike because I'm spiking out of the target zone the whole ride. And that is why I bonk every stinkin' time I try to run off.

This will change my training forever. Even though, for now, it means my times are ridiculous slow, I couldn't happier because I get now that this is what's been holding me back.

After that I had the best run off a bike ever; for the first time it was only the setting sun putting limits on my ability to keep going.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Perfect Weekend

Near race-distance brick workout? CHECK!

Tested race gear in training scenario? CHECK!

Swim workout? CHECK!

In open water? DOUBLE CHECK!

Without having a complete freaking panic attack meltdown? CHECK, baby!

Followed by impromptu hot-tubbing?! Seriously. Does training get better than this?

Saturday, June 03, 2006


I've got chipped polish, broken nails and scratched hands from perpetually futzing with tires and chains. Crazy hair, frizzed from too much chlorine and sun and being crammed into rubber bands and bike helmets. Legs dotted with bright red mosquito bites. Mysterious little bruises and scratches just about everywhere. A seemingly indelible grease stain on my calf. Deeply tanned arms with a white wrist monitor stripe. A screaming white body from knees to neck, punctuated with little spots of sunburn in the oddest places.

It's official. I've got triathlete disease.

Bug Light

Woke myself up before sunrise this morning. Itching. Because apparently there was an f#%@ing mosquito in the bedroom last night.

I'm the one. The 1 in 10, that is, of people born with the highly unfortunate biochemical signature mosquitoes find particularly attractive. Even a single mosquito can inflict serious damage, coming back again and again on a gluttonous suicide mission. Because the torture doesn't end until I squish 'em.

People love me at parties because they can forget to light the citronella candles or to put out bug spray and nobody gets bitten because the bloodthirsty little buggers are all swarming in a cloud around ME. I left one memorable 4th of July party with over 75 bites. On my left thigh. And I'd been wearing long pants, a jacket and half a bottle of Deep Woods Off. We tried to figure out how many bites I really got, but stopped counting at 150. My legs swelled up by several inches.

I've been accused of exaggerating, of being whiny, of flat out making it up. (Why wouldn't they think I'm making it up? They're not getting bitten because they're in my protective aura.) Only those fellow humans who share my affliction truly get it.

Here's the kicker: as my general level of allergicness to the world around me has spiraled out of control, in recent years I also developed an allergic reaction to mosquito bites.

So I don't get a teeny little red dot that itches a little. I get a huge hard knot, sometimes as big around as a quarter and up to a half inch high, that itches like mad for upwards of a week.

So. When I say I woke up this morning and there had been a mosquito in the bedroom... I mean the little fucker worked his way up one leg and down the other, planting a nice bite on each ass cheek for good measure. I think I counted 9 bites total, but I'm really really itchy behind the right knee so I won't be surprised if a few more knots surface as the morning progresses.

Pass the Calamine, please.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Geekin' Out

I'm totally geekin' out over my latest equipment purchases!

Got my snazzy new Polar M32 heart rate monitor... more on this in a later post, for the moment suffice it to say this is some of the best money I've ever spent on any piece of fitness equipment. Gotta send a shout-out to Flatman for giving sound advice to this HR monitor newbie on this intimidating purchase. I took his advice and am very, very happy with the end result. The icing on the cake was finding one new in the box on eBay for $30 less than sticker.

Got my too-cool-for-school Giro Atmos... dude. The thing looks fast just sittin' there on my counter. I giggle every time I pick it up - it's just so darn light! Can't wait to take it for a ride tomorrow.
(Btw... I got it on eBay. Pristine, in the box, for at least $50 less than I'd have paid in a shop. Transaction was smooth as silk; if you know what you're looking for in this area you should check out this guy's bike helmet eBay store.)

To recap, here's what I've gotten so far this year (when I'm kinda broke and wasn't going to spend any money on gear or do more than one race.)

Carnac TRS8X Cycling Shoes... $225

Speedplays... $125

Bike fitting (discounted)... $75

Tri-Geek Jersey... $55

Architecturally sound running bra... $60

Triathlon themed running socks... $15

Bike tune-up, spare tubes, handlebar wrap and new bottle... $70

Polar M32 Heart Rate Monitor... $90

Giro Atmos... $160

Race registrations (2 sprints)... $160

Hotel costs for races... $200

Husband who just rolls his eyes and lets me use his PayPal funds to buy stuff because he's happy that I'm happy livin' the tri-life... Priceless

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Book Project

For anyone who listens to GYGO, you probably heard the Kahuna mention the concept for a book about back of the packers and their stories.

My initial reaction was "Hey! He stole my idea!" but of course I was immediately placated when he said it was open for the taking... and then incredibly flattered that Iron Wil suggested I do it.

Seeing as how I'm a professional writer in real life, and the ultimate back-of-the-packer, I've actually thought about doing this exact thing. The podcast was the nudge I needed to do it.

So. If you're a back of the packer and would like to share your story, to be compiled into a book, please get in touch. I'd love to talk with you. I can't promise that I'll manage to get it published, but worst case we can share it with our fellow triathletes.