Toenails

When my kids were little, they learned a song when they were in the first grade. The song was just a short list of some body parts they were learning about so they would point to the body part as they sang the song out loud. They would sing at the dinner table and point to the part of the body that the song was about, they would sing in the shower and point, they would sing while they played with the dog and point out the dogs parts: They sang it constantly, over and over and pretty soon, I was singing it at the dinner table, in the shower, in the car, on the way to work, pointing at my body parts while I drove.  I guess I am easily influenced by others.

The song goes like this (for some extra fun, point at your own body parts while you read the words)

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes

Head, Shoulders. Knees, and Toe o o o o oes.

To sing it right, you need to make each of the 'o's it's own syllable, like Oh Oh Oh Oh and so on. So I was thinking about that while I drove to work today and of course I was singing out loud, touching my head, my shoulders, my knees and my toes like thirty times as fast as I could. On I-90. At seventy five miles an hour. I was just singing and touching and scaring the other drivers.

Then I got to work, got out of the car and limped into the office because my knees were super sore from my run yesterday. It occurred to me that the song is not only good for kids, but it's good for commuters and for triathletes too. Sing the song now and touch your body part while you read along. Try it - its fun. It's superfun.

Head - if you want to be a triathlete, get your head right. Some triathletes don't deal well with pain. It's a head thing. Fix that. Or, some triathletes don't believe in pace. They go out extra strong on the bike, then they wonder what happened when they blow up on the run. Fix that. Or, some triathletes don't like to swim in a crowd. Fix that. Whatever you need to do to get your head right, fix it. It's different for everybody.

Shoulders – Swimming is great, but your shoulders might revolt if you don't take care of them. Build your distance slow and lift some weights. That is what I do anyway. My shoulders ache if I swim more than three times a week. Maybe a little ache is ok, but I think my shoulders are getting old and I need to keep them safe.

Knees - My knees hurt when I run. They hurt more than they did last year, and they hurt twice as bad as they did two years ago. Use the I and A treatment to keep them happy. Ice your knees and down a bunch of Advil until the pain goes away. And don't run on pavement early in your training cycle. In short, do whatever it is that keeps your knees happy. Here's a thought; how many runners or triathletes over the age of forty do you know that don't have knee problems? I don't know any.

Toes - My toes don't hurt but they are mentioned in the song, so I guess I should say something wise about your toes. Hmmm. I got nuthin'. Maybe clip your toenails.

I ran four miles today, it was raining as hard as it can possibly rain in the jungles of Southeast Asia and like an idiot I ran in it.  Swim tomorrow, maybe ride this weekend if the monsoon lets up.

Fun-O-Meter

One of the things I have worked into my workout routine lately is a change of pace. I try to do something different everyday. If you follow the calendar that you get off of the internet, you swim/bike/run, swim/bike/run over and over. Since I live in the greater Seattle Metro area, I am usually working out in the gym because the weather sucks so it gets old pretty quick.  How many times can you run on the 24hour treadmill?  You need to mix up your workouts to save your sanity.

For instance, here is a daily recount of what I did last week and just for giggles, I notated the somewhat unrelated measurement of how that day measured up on the Fun-O-Meter.

 

Monday – Yoga. It's way too hot in there. Half the people in class were laying down for the last twenty minutes of class because they were dizzy or nauseous or whatever. I have to talk to the manager. Fun-O-Meter 3

Tuesday – Bike ride. First ride of the year after a long, wet winter. It was great, we pushed pretty hard and I was gasping for breath. Fun-O-Meter 8

Wednesday – Another bike ride. It wasn't hard, but it was still fun. Fun-O-Meter 7

Thursday - Ran on the trail around Lake Washington with my daughter. It was a Fun-O-Meter 7, but the run was on asphalt and my knees don't do asphalt without taking revenge the day after, so it netted out a Fun-O-Meter 4.

Friday – Swam. Fun-O-Meter  7

Saturday – Indoor tri. I swam for forty minutes, rode a spin bike for an hour, then ran on a treadmill for thirty minutes. It was a funnish 6.

Sunday – Swam. My arms were tired from the past two days swims. Fun-O-Meter  4

My neighbor just sold his Porsche 911. It was a great car, he let me drive it once. I don't know how fast we were going, but it was pretty fast.  I was going too fast to take my eyes off the road. After I drove it I lost all fiscal perspective and started looking for a used one, but my roommate explained how it was way more car than I needed as a daily commuter, then she threw the F word at me. She said “Forbid” That's rude, right? Can she do that? Yes. Yes she can.  She cuts me off of the laundry service when I do stupid shit.

I guess she was right. Now that I think about it, not only was it more car than I needed, but it was more car than my neighbor needed. Or could handle.  

It's kind of like the idea of getting a new tri bike. Do I need the ten thousand dollar bike with four thousand dollars in wheels? No. Do I want one? Well...

Can I handle a ten thousand dollar bike with four thousand dollars in wheels? Well...

If I borrow against my pension to buy a new ten thousand dollar bike with four thousand dollar wheels, will my roommate use the F word again? Well....

Smokey The Bear

Do you remember maybe thirty or forty years ago there was a commercial that showed a picture of a bear wearing a hat? The bear was holding a shovel and he said ' Only You can Prevent Forest Fires.' And he pointed right at you with his furry finger.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BIGvdb9J1UU

That bear with the black eyes. That freakin' bear with the coal-black eyes and the lifesucking black heart, he pointed right at me with his furry finger. He accused me of all manner of mis-deeds with his fat furry finger. He said 'Only You'. Only Me. Only Me. Well, I was a very impressionable youth and I took that message to heart so when the news said that there was a forest fire that burned thousands of acres, I felt guilty. I woke up in the middle of the night in a fevered guilt-sweat. I could just see all those little Disney forest animals running for their lives. Flower, Thumper, Bambi, running away from the scathing murderous flame that I failed to prevent. All Dead. Because I couldn't save them. Or I wouldn't save them. My parents had me on suicide watch for a year because of Smokey The Freakin Bear. I hate Smokey the Bear.

Two nights ago I was getting ready for the following day, preparing my little piles of stuff.  It takes a while.
I had my backpack for work, with my laptop in it and all my work stuff.  Check.
I had lunch packed, with a sandwich, greek yogurt, banana, orange, fat-free pudding.  Check.
I had my workout bag, with stuff for yoga, because I was going to stop on the way home from work for yoga.  Check.
And, I had my swim stuff, goggles, swimcap and whatnot, for my 5:30AM swim.  Check.

My alarm goes off at 4;55AM, I get dressed, grab my four separate piles of stuff and get in the truck.  I was going to swim with the local triathlon group that meets twice a week. There are usually about twenty five or thirty swimmers that meet and for the most part, 90% of them are faster than me, which is not a big deal. It is what it is. I show up at the pool at 5:25, get dressed in the locker room, go out to the pool, put my goggles on, put my swim cap on, then I jumped in the pool. Everybody else got out. As soon as I get in, everybody else gets out. That's weird. A couple of them asked what I was doing. Some of them laughed and whispered to each other while they stared at me. Somebody asked if I had heard of daylight savings time. Somebody else asked if I forgot to set my clock ahead. I stare dumbly, trying to figure out how twenty five individuals could all have the wrong time. Group hypnosis?  Are they all on drugs?  I am thinking the newspaper headline would read

                                                   Mass Hysteria Strikes Swimmers.

            25 Swimmers Have The Wrong Time, Only 1 Swimmer Knows The Correct Time.

Somebody pointed at me and laughed. She pointed her furry Smokey The Bear finger at me. Doubt starts to creep in. I got out of the pool and made a hasty retreat to my car.

I ran last night. I was late for that too.