90 min come hell...or hell

isn't that how the saying goes? no, no. i think its come hell or high water, but since this particular day was pretty damn short on water, i think the above is the best version of the saying i can muster.

the morning started out with Mass at 8AM (its Lent, and along with giving up gum i have also made a promise to attend Mass every Sunday during the season) and luckily there are about 10 different Catholic churches within a 10 mile radius so i have my pick of the litter on this one. Mass was okay but nothing like the church out by BG's so my hunt is still on for the one i can call my own. i got home, had breakfast, got ready to ride and here is where the day became comical, at best. i sat in my riding kit for 30 minutes before deciding that i needed a 30 minute nap before i rode. the alarm went off and then i decided i needed a cup of coffee before i rode. i sat there with my coffee, looking out at my amazing view and literally laughed at the ridiculous amount of energy it was taking to fight with myself about getting off my lazy ass to ride my damn bike. i mean COME ON!

after a total of an hour and a half of lolly gagging around, i finally trudged down the stairs and out to the street to start my jaunt. i had originally planned on heading up to Solano Beach to ride, but decided that was way too much effort on this balmy Sunday morning so i'd be better off riding in sun shiny, high traffic cluster that OB tends to be - AKA cars in OB do NOT = good times in relation to cyclists in OB. so off i was, determined to ride 90 minutes whether i wanted to or not.

it started with me almost getting creamed by a red convertible mustang shooting off like a silver bullet on the hunt for Dracula's heart from a stop sign that he decided to "roll" through, my heart jumping into my throat, carousing my "oh-so-bad-idea" cup of coffee, me slamming the inside of my right tibia so hard into my cleat that it left an immediate baseball sized bruise, all ending in me finally making it to the other side of the rode reeling with fear of all cars, thankfulness that i wasn't dead and dread for the next 85 minutes to come.

i made it over to Fiesta Island without anymore major occurrences of "frogger ending badly", and started my first "easy" lap around the big circle and of course i immediately happen upon a middle aged woman hell bent on not letting me pass. i hadn't even really wanted to pass her - its not like i was out there to race or anything but she kept looking back at me, swerving all over the rode like a drunk person, acting as if i was there to chase her down so i could spit on her back tire as i rode past in over exemplified glory to the finish line, arms raised in victory, where i would collect my 10 million dollar prize and leave her and her dying grandma on the side of the road to wallow in the cardboard box they had been living in since the recession began in 1957. i mean i was clearly there to ruin her an her whole damn family's dreams! so what did i do? i did what any normal triathlete would do - i dropped into my big chain ring, grunted like Homer Simpson and burned right by her. it was all very masculine (well as masculine as a 5'3", 115 lb frame can be) and sort of devilish, but damn - she was begging for it.

a lot of good it did me because about 5 minutes down the road and a good 5 or 600 yards between the two of us i threw up in my mouth...a lot. it even spurted out just as a big truck drove by...you could actually see the red tinted smoothie leaving my lips to sprinkle the dust in a quite grotesque fashion - and as i finished the first lap, somehow talking myself into another, the middle aged lady comes riding up past me - smirking with pride and confidence. "well, good for her" i thought. "way to stick with it!" but there she was again, turning to look how far behind i was, swerving all over carnation - creating a hazard to herself and all of the other drivers/riders/runners on the island. so again - i dropped my gear and hammered past her, around the circle and off of that dadgum island for good. 36 minutes down, 54 to go...

i didn't really have a plan on where to go next so i decided to ride over to Morena and up to it's dead end where i stopped to throw up once along the way, bonked twice and was so happy to ride past side streets that had crazy inclines and happily laugh at the ludicrous thought of possibly attempting to climb them four times. i was more than happy to stay on my rolling path that seemed to kick my ass at every turn, with the insanely hot sun beating down on my back, taunting me in the worst ways to stop and call a cab, but oh no - push on i did, and when i finally got home after another "frogger ending badly" close call, i crawled to my freezer to extract the heavenly wonder of Dreyer's tart frozen yogurt and ate so much that i felt a little ill and finally, FINALLY passed out from the exhaustion of it all.

so 90 minutes, 25 something miles, 17 mph and the thrill of the season tickling my feet - good times, good times.

March 1, 2009

its about that time -
to get my ass in gear
to get in the pool
to get on the bike
to get in my running shoes -
its time to train.

tomorrow will be my first official day back at it. what am i feeling? to tell you the truth, i'm feeling a little scared, uneasy, doubtful, UNmotivated and worst of all sort of like i'm not so sure i want to continue training like i did last July-October. i've been dealing with some personal demons - i guess on some level i always have been, always am, might always be...and that, ladies and gentlemen, doesn't bode particularly well for getting started in training again, but does permit me to work through it in a physical act instead of just a mental one, which i think will be a positive avenue. and to tell you the truth, these demons - they are what they are, something to work through - not hide from, deny or even be ashamed of. they are what they are and they've made me who i am today. me today needs to work through it. me tomorrow? well, who knows. better i guess. so here's to tomorrow and the prescribed activity given by the kind and thoughtful CB:

"let's just go out, get you back on the bike and do a ride. do what you want, nothing crazy. just make sure you're out there for 90 minutes and let me know how it goes"

90 minutes, huh? here goes nothing...or something :)

rain delay...

thanks for the well wishes and emails wondering where the heck i've gone off to now...your regularly scheduled reading breaks will be back soon - training starts March 1st as will all of the stories of hapless shenanigans and the trouble i always seem to find myself in while training ;) i am starting to get back into riding on a regular basis this week but the running (hopefully) and the swimming will officially start March 1 (did you hear that CB, there's the official date).

it was my birthday last Friday and i had a very fun filled weekend of family and friends. its safe to say i'm thoroughly exhausted and ready for some good sleep, but the time was well spent and my "all by myself big girl apartment" is looking better than ever and completely functional! other than that, work is a mosh pit and has been taking up the majority of my time lately. it does look to be settling down a bit so training shouldn't be such a scary task to try to fit in on a daily basis - or so i hope!

until then - sit tight, train well and rest up - 2009 training is going to be a hoot & a hol-la ;)

dirty laundry...

moved because for a moment i had a slight slip in judgement and seemingly forgot that even though i am hurt and training is not going as i had planned, i am still a representative of some pretty amazing people and i really do have the utmost respect for them...so its on the personal blog now and i do apologize if i offended anyone with my potty mouth... :)

poor little raven

i know this is not a football blog (and i stand the chance to make even more enemies), but i just got the best damn picture in an email and i had to post it - notice the vehicle driving away in the background...NICE!!! :)

GO STEELERS!

learning Italian

okay. as we all know (if you know me and since you are reading my blog, there stands a pretty decent chance you do - or would like to - know me that is), i am a mover and a shaker. what does that mean katie b? you may ask. let's ponder the meaning of this with the following definitions to guide:

Mover - Mov"er\, n.
1. A person or thing that moves, stirs, or changes place.
2. A person or thing that imparts motion, or causes change of place; a motor.
3. One who, or that which, excites, instigates, or causes movement, change, etc.; as, movers of sedition.

shaker - shak·er\, n.
1. One that shakes: a shaker of long-held beliefs and traditions.
2. One that impels, encourages, or supervises action.

—Idiom
movers and shakers, powerful and influential people

so what does this mean? it means i like change. I CRAVE CHANGE. i like to be the catalyst that creates that change whether it be in myself or the ones around me. i went to a college that i had no friends attending. i moved to CA two days after graduation on a self determined whim. all in response to this NEED for change. BIG change. all on my own, balls out, fight or flight moves. something i've noticed is that it tends to come and go in waves not to over extend one and two year cycles, me and change that is. i have never had a consistent relationship that lasted more than two years. i always break it off (without consciously realizing it) just before or right around the 24th month. case in point - Wadsworth and BOD, both what one might consider "serious" relationships - although knowing what i know now they would both have to be classified as jokes - were both ended by yours truly just before il contrassegno biennale. another instance, slightly different to illustrate the point - i've gone from a bouncy blonde, to a racy red, to a bright brunette and every color in between. i have lived in Rancho Santa Margarita, San Marcos, Encinitas, La Jolla, Mission Valley, Pt. Loma, Normal Heights and Ocean Beach since i've lived in this crazy state. i have now been at my current job for two and a half years, which is a true record...most jobs last less than a year. i have had 6 jobs in the almost four years I've been in SoCal and now i am just itching to get out and do something different. i don't know if its boredom, if i get antsy, or i just like the newness of different situations, surroundings and challenges. i do know that i hate stagnation and being stagnant is one of my greatest fears of failure.

SO WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?! it means i am going to learn Italian. and the BIGNORMOUS plans i have cooking in this little head of mine? they are going to follow suit with that lovely language. Vineman 70.3 2009, IMCozumel 2009, Italy 2010-2012 (with a pit stop in New Zealand for the IM one of my best friends is planning on doing)...?

so this is all just a seedling of a plan right now. its still in the beginning stages. i have so much to find out - what does getting a job in Italy entail? how/where would i live? what would i do? what am i qualified to do? do i have contacts who have contacts in Italy? what part of Italy should i have a main stay in? i've never even been out of the USA, Italy for Christ's sake?! am i crazy? what am i thinking?!

i am thinking this - i want to live. i want to experience all i can in this little life of mine. i have no real obligations in this juncture in my life save for my bills. so i sell everything i own, including Sammy, pay off most of my debt and have two years in Italy to laugh, love and live. fanciful? yes, maybe so. i am half Italian by sperm donation, so is it not my birth right to learn my blood heritage? Iris and momma have already concluded that a lengthy visit to the country would do them both a bit of good and i'm a resourceful type of girl, pretty brave, self reliant and damned determined. so just do it, no? then come back and see what life has in store next...hmmm.

so i thought i'd write it here, for all to see - that way i've said it outloud and the real research can begin because now i will have all of you to answer to if the seedling never comes to fruition :) back up move...Colorado, Santa Barbara, Texas (finally)...?

Chef Kate's Corner: NYD

first off, there are many "traditional" items recognized all over the world for "what to eat for a happy and healthy new year". in my family the traditional fare usually constists of black eyed peas, bacon/ham/pork, and fish. you are supposed to eat nothing that moves "backwards" like chicken. so i took my traditions and turned them into something i could share with MPC...yum, yum, yum :)

New Year's Day Breakfast:

Harry & David's dark chocolate peppermint coffee with eggnog

gluten free pancackes with walnuts (MPC's also had shaved dark chocolote pieces in them)

topped with fresh blueberries

and an eggnog mascarpone sauce

scrambled eggwhites

and bacon
sorry this was taken with my camera phone -
my batteries died on the good one
:(

New Year's Day Dinner:

appetizer:

procutto wrapped shrimp topped with aged, white cheddar

Novella Muscat Canelli

main course:

wild caught salmon sauteed in a zesty spice mixture and olive oil

dirty rice with corn, tomatoes, bell peppers and black eyed peas

and sauteed asparagus with salted pork to flavor