Ok, en route to Orange County for a week of management fun. This is the loudest, most boisterous group of airplane passengers since taking the Everett girls to Nationals six years ago. Upon arrival at SNA, I will need to high-tail it out to catch Trader Joe's before they close so I can have snacks for the next few days. I doubt the "continental breakfast" provided at this workshop includes my usual bacon, kale and fried eggs.
Good news from the last week is that my mom survived her surgery. They pulled out a mass and the right kidney to go with it. Then they told her she was cured since the mass showed no signs of cancerous growth. I guess that's a nicer way to put it instead of: sorry about that unnecessary major surgery, let us know how you heal up. Needless to say, I'm still pretty miffed with the whole slice and dice situation.
Round 5 of Singletrack Racing yesterday and a "recovery" ride on the Worm today. Yesterday's race was long. Two 5.5 mile loops with about 800 feet of climbing on each. After nearly 40 minutes of racing I decided I was ready for the lap to be over so I could start it again and get on with it. Then came the massive hill just before the finish. The course wasn't 80% deep mud like last week, which made it deceivingly difficult. There was enough hard dirt that you could really get some speed and just as you did, you'd hit a deep muddy section... Lots of crashes. A woman went down right in front of me and was discombobulated enough that I considered stopping. But she got her bike out of the way, which I took to mean she at least wasn't in shock. A while later, she and her teammates were spotted walking up the fire road back towards the parking lot. I passed a bunch of dudes, which seems to be the norm (suckers!). At the last section of single track, I caught up to a woman who gave me some lip before moving over. Her kind appears to be the minority, but it's still frustrating. Don't wanna get passed? Pedal harder. I made a new friend, who beat me the last two weeks, but I think I'll get a riding (and maybe beer) buddy out of the deal. And I had fun jockeying with another gal throughout the course. These unaffiliated rides are pretty cool. Today I got all five trails in at the Worm, in time trial order. Goal is to get that under an hour -- just a few minutes to go. I feel like I've plateaued with the riding, and I either need another big breakthrough or I just need to ride more. One will probably lead to the other. I do need to figure out how to get hydration while I'm racing and probably a gu or something too. I definitely hit the wall before the end of the race yesterday.
I'm trying to figure out what all I did last week that kept me from writing these love letters to the interwebs every night. I pulled an 8k on the erg with "Big Lebowski Joe" Tuesday after practice, which was painful but not so bad since I had company. It's Joe's plan to get back not erging and back into shape by doing 10k's at least once a week. Thursday I convinced him to go out in the sun and do 4 x 500 in the double with me. Good times all around. Wednesday I met up with Charming Chance for a quick drink and a plate of fries at the German place near REI. It's never THAT quick, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Friday night was happy hour with the work guys, then dinner with Mary. Way too much Jameson at happy hour; I will officially be switching to whatever cider the 9# carries to keep my level of drunkenness in check. Saturday I refereed up at the Lake Stevens regatta and saved a kid's life after he dumped his single into the drink. Nothing cures a hangover like a shot of adrenalin.
Friday night in my inebriated state, I dropped the remote for the loft's lights and thought I had completely broken it. Didn't matter much at that point if I slept with the lights on, so I just rolled over. Saturday night though, I was on a mission for darkness and momentarily thought about getting out the pellet gun to take out the one light I couldn't reach to unscrew. But then as I was plugging my phone in near the bed, I located the battery that fell out of the remote and all was right again. So I repeat: no more Jameson at happy hour.
Based on some poor iPhone photos, Adam says the crushed pinky toe is broken, so it's been buddy taped for now. I'm probably off the running regime for a few more weeks and should probably be back ON the icing regime. It felt ok most of last week until flyer yesterday's race. The Worm didn't do it any favors either. Maybe the dansko heels will cure it this week!
After my three days of management fun, I'll connect with Marketa for an evening of debauchery, then Friday morning drive down to San Diego to see Bridget and family for the weekend. I'm looking forward to both -- I haven't seen Marketa in ages. And hoping for some Mama Webb time in SD too. Sometimes you just need to be with the people that love you most.
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