Where were we at this exciting moment?
Yup - that's right. We were getting comfortable at the adult beverage tent. Completely missed the ceremony.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Tidewater: post race
Once upon a time there were four friends, Molly, Mary, Rick & Susie, who enjoyed competing in triathlons together. Apparently, they enjoyed socializing even more.
Example A: last weekend, Mary finished second in her age group.
Where were we at this exciting moment?
Yup - that's right. We were getting comfortable at the adult beverage tent. Completely missed the ceremony.
Where were we at this exciting moment?
Yup - that's right. We were getting comfortable at the adult beverage tent. Completely missed the ceremony.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Big News....
So...after seven years in higher education, I have made the bold (some might say crazy) decision to return to teaching the little ones.
What? Why? Huh? You might be thinking. Well, years ago, when I first began taking classes for my doctorate at UVA, I had no intention of leaving the classroom. I have always loved/adored teaching children. It's exhausting, but it also re-energizes me and quite frankly, I feel like it's what I'm meant to do. I love it. I think that 6-year old children are the funniest, most lovable little people in the world. They are so open to learning, reading, playing - it's refreshing.
While I have enjoyed my time at both Radford and University of Richmond, I always felt a little emptiness/sadness that I had left the classroom. When you teach graduate students, they are with you for such a brief time period (1-2 semesters). But, the little guys (for better or worse) are part of my world for a full school year (or more). You develop bonds with their families and siblings. I guess I miss (among other things) the "connectedness" that comes from a classroom of children.
So, in late August, I'll return to the world of first graders. I'm excited, nervous and incredibly happy.
And hoping we have as many snow days as last winter :)
What? Why? Huh? You might be thinking. Well, years ago, when I first began taking classes for my doctorate at UVA, I had no intention of leaving the classroom. I have always loved/adored teaching children. It's exhausting, but it also re-energizes me and quite frankly, I feel like it's what I'm meant to do. I love it. I think that 6-year old children are the funniest, most lovable little people in the world. They are so open to learning, reading, playing - it's refreshing.
While I have enjoyed my time at both Radford and University of Richmond, I always felt a little emptiness/sadness that I had left the classroom. When you teach graduate students, they are with you for such a brief time period (1-2 semesters). But, the little guys (for better or worse) are part of my world for a full school year (or more). You develop bonds with their families and siblings. I guess I miss (among other things) the "connectedness" that comes from a classroom of children.
So, in late August, I'll return to the world of first graders. I'm excited, nervous and incredibly happy.
And hoping we have as many snow days as last winter :)
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The choices we make
A few weeks ago, I chose to sign up for the "Rumpus in Bumpass" sprint triathlon (I know - it's a great name). I did it knowing that I haven't done an open water swim since August of 2008 - that's a long time ago for me - Little Miss Open Water Freak Out. I also knew that Lake Anna might be a little chilly in April.
I figured...what the heck?...I need to get in the open water sooner or later.
I arrived at the race site (the same place where the Giant Acorn triathlon - another great name - is held) with sweet Rick by my side. I surveyed the swim situation. I knew logically that I should have no issues swimming 750 meters. And yet...those old fears started sneaking back into my head. I asked Rick nervously, "Do you think those buoys are placed in the wrong place? They seem kinda far to me." He reassured me that I would be fine. His quote, "You've done it before, you can do it again." Right.
I made sure to get in the water and swim around prior to the start. Wow - that's cold water! Luckily, I adapted to it quickly (the beauty of a wetsuit). Okay, a few deep breaths..and I started to calm down. The first swim wave made their way to the start (the young lads, that is). In 12 minutes I would be off with the purple caps. Yikes! But wait...what is this? Why are they delaying the race?
Oh no...I spy an ambulance making its way to the start. It seems that someone in the first wave was having lots of trouble, so they had to pull him out.
Gulp. I'm nervous now.
Once things settle down, the rest of the waves go off without incident. Before I know it, it's my turn to swim over to the first buoy (it's an in-water start). The horn blows...and I start to swim. Sort of.
I'm swimming along slowly...not totally into this experience. I suddenly stop. That first buoy looks so far away...I could still turn around and head back to shore. That seems like a great choice. The smartest choice I could ever make, actually. I start to picture Sunday morning breakfast...eggs, coffee, the Sunday paper. Seriously, what am I doing in this lake?
Cue my tougher conscience: Well...I'm doing a triathlon - a triathlon that I CHOSE to do. I think I may have even said to anyone listening (which by now was the wave behind me), "Get going. Stop being a baby."
And so, I start swimming forward. Granted, I'm sure my stroke is in complete disarray at this point. But, I make it to the first buoy. I can hear someone near me making small panicked, whimpering sounds - and yelling at anyone who swam near her. I must get away from this situation. So off I went in the search of next buoys.
Finally, I have calmed down and start to swim like a somewhat normal human being. But, I'm having lots of trouble sighting. Is that a buoy or...no, it's not. Hmmm...it finally dawns on me in the middle of the swim. Perhaps prescription goggles would help me see where I'm going. I wear them to drive, watch TV, teach, ride my bike and run. Why has it taken me so long to realize they might help with open water, too? Who knows.
Finally, after way too much time, I finish the swim. I take a moment to regroup in transition. This was not at all how I envisioned my swim would go. But, I just have to let my disappointment and anger with myself go. I choose to smile, shake it off, and head off to the mount line.
And who is there to cheer me on? Rick, of course. Thanks honey - I needed a little smile at that moment.
The rest of the race went fine and dandy. In fact, I loved that race - spazz swim and all. Can't wait to do another one. Crazy, huh?
I figured...what the heck?...I need to get in the open water sooner or later.
I arrived at the race site (the same place where the Giant Acorn triathlon - another great name - is held) with sweet Rick by my side. I surveyed the swim situation. I knew logically that I should have no issues swimming 750 meters. And yet...those old fears started sneaking back into my head. I asked Rick nervously, "Do you think those buoys are placed in the wrong place? They seem kinda far to me." He reassured me that I would be fine. His quote, "You've done it before, you can do it again." Right.
I made sure to get in the water and swim around prior to the start. Wow - that's cold water! Luckily, I adapted to it quickly (the beauty of a wetsuit). Okay, a few deep breaths..and I started to calm down. The first swim wave made their way to the start (the young lads, that is). In 12 minutes I would be off with the purple caps. Yikes! But wait...what is this? Why are they delaying the race?
Oh no...I spy an ambulance making its way to the start. It seems that someone in the first wave was having lots of trouble, so they had to pull him out.
Gulp. I'm nervous now.
Once things settle down, the rest of the waves go off without incident. Before I know it, it's my turn to swim over to the first buoy (it's an in-water start). The horn blows...and I start to swim. Sort of.
I'm swimming along slowly...not totally into this experience. I suddenly stop. That first buoy looks so far away...I could still turn around and head back to shore. That seems like a great choice. The smartest choice I could ever make, actually. I start to picture Sunday morning breakfast...eggs, coffee, the Sunday paper. Seriously, what am I doing in this lake?
Cue my tougher conscience: Well...I'm doing a triathlon - a triathlon that I CHOSE to do. I think I may have even said to anyone listening (which by now was the wave behind me), "Get going. Stop being a baby."
And so, I start swimming forward. Granted, I'm sure my stroke is in complete disarray at this point. But, I make it to the first buoy. I can hear someone near me making small panicked, whimpering sounds - and yelling at anyone who swam near her. I must get away from this situation. So off I went in the search of next buoys.
Finally, I have calmed down and start to swim like a somewhat normal human being. But, I'm having lots of trouble sighting. Is that a buoy or...no, it's not. Hmmm...it finally dawns on me in the middle of the swim. Perhaps prescription goggles would help me see where I'm going. I wear them to drive, watch TV, teach, ride my bike and run. Why has it taken me so long to realize they might help with open water, too? Who knows.
Finally, after way too much time, I finish the swim. I take a moment to regroup in transition. This was not at all how I envisioned my swim would go. But, I just have to let my disappointment and anger with myself go. I choose to smile, shake it off, and head off to the mount line.
And who is there to cheer me on? Rick, of course. Thanks honey - I needed a little smile at that moment.
The rest of the race went fine and dandy. In fact, I loved that race - spazz swim and all. Can't wait to do another one. Crazy, huh?
Thursday, April 15, 2010
what in the world....
has happened to this blog? I hope to become a more loyal blogger. Sorry! Actually, does anyone read this? Now that is the question...(sorry Shakepeare)
Monday, March 22, 2010
Shamrock
First, let me just say that if you ever want to get an amazing bargain on something, go to the Team in Training silent auction! The silent auction last week was a smashing success, partially because my friends donated some awesome things - and my friends bought many of the awesome things. Mucho love to Cindy, Ashton, Lynnie, Jilly-bean, Shawnie, Karen, Deanna, Scott, and, of course, Rick. Best of all, the funds raised go towards curing cancer.
This past weekend, we headed to Virginia Beach to enjoy (question mark?) some races. Actually, I did enjoy the 8K. I am beyond excited that I can race again. Granted, my pace is not where it once was when I was just a young lass in my early 30s. I hope it comes back, but even if it doesn't, it's so much fun to take part in these events. A year off from running + two knee surgeries will make a lady grateful...yes, indeed.
Anyway, Rick toed the line for the Shamrock marathon. He was having a great day - until around mile 17. Alas, the relative heat (for March) and wind got the best of him. He finished (despite what the website reports) about 10 minutes off what he had hoped to do.
He seemed fine at first. But, as we headed further away from the medical tent, he started to show signs of serious dehydration. He could walk from one bench on the boardwalk to another. And then he'd have to rest. He complained of a terrible headache and awful nausea. Yup - telltale signs of dehydration. I knew we were too far away from the medical tent AND our condo.
I hightailed it to the car - only to discover that the roads were closed where I had left Rick. Egads...my sweet husband was alone and throwing up - and I was in a bind.
Thankfully, a kind parking lot attendant could tell I was in a state of panic. She let me park my car in an overflowing lot near Rick.
Such a sad sight. There he was...slumped over on the sidewalk. Poor guy. Luckily, he's tough and recovers quickly. It's weird how things that are so bad for you taste so good when you're dehydrated. Pringles and coke....the magic antidote.
And - we figured out that he still finished in the top 20 for his age group. Dehydration and all.
This past weekend, we headed to Virginia Beach to enjoy (question mark?) some races. Actually, I did enjoy the 8K. I am beyond excited that I can race again. Granted, my pace is not where it once was when I was just a young lass in my early 30s. I hope it comes back, but even if it doesn't, it's so much fun to take part in these events. A year off from running + two knee surgeries will make a lady grateful...yes, indeed.
Anyway, Rick toed the line for the Shamrock marathon. He was having a great day - until around mile 17. Alas, the relative heat (for March) and wind got the best of him. He finished (despite what the website reports) about 10 minutes off what he had hoped to do.
He seemed fine at first. But, as we headed further away from the medical tent, he started to show signs of serious dehydration. He could walk from one bench on the boardwalk to another. And then he'd have to rest. He complained of a terrible headache and awful nausea. Yup - telltale signs of dehydration. I knew we were too far away from the medical tent AND our condo.
I hightailed it to the car - only to discover that the roads were closed where I had left Rick. Egads...my sweet husband was alone and throwing up - and I was in a bind.
Thankfully, a kind parking lot attendant could tell I was in a state of panic. She let me park my car in an overflowing lot near Rick.
Such a sad sight. There he was...slumped over on the sidewalk. Poor guy. Luckily, he's tough and recovers quickly. It's weird how things that are so bad for you taste so good when you're dehydrated. Pringles and coke....the magic antidote.
And - we figured out that he still finished in the top 20 for his age group. Dehydration and all.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
TNT Auction
On Tuesday, I'll take a break from after-work training to attend the summer Team in Training silent auction. It's at Blackfinn restaurant from 6:30-8:00 p.m. (and yes, you can arrive late). Please spread the word - it's open to everyone. We'd love to see you! All money raised from the auction goes directly to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
Here's a sample of the super-cool items available...
gift certificates to a wide variety of restaurants in the greater Richmond area (such as Cha-Chas, Starbucks, Turner and Bragg)
jewelry
artwork
wine
A Timex Ironman watch
A cooler filled with Gatorade products (a necessity for all of my athletic friends!)
And...an autographed basketball from this year's super-awesome University of Richmond men's basketball team. As of this writing, they are gearing up for tomorrow's A-10 championship game against Temple (they just beat top 25 team Xavier!)
I don't want to jinx them, but I'm thinking they are NCAA-bound. Go Spiders!
Meanwhile, my fundraising is in great shape. My initial goal was $1,500 but I'm already at close to $1,800. I've raised my expectations (and efforts) to try to reach $2,500. I have about $700.00 more to raise to reach that goal. Keep spreading the word, my friends. As my friends Nicole and Art pointed out to me, cancer is not (unfortunately) in a recession.
Here's a sample of the super-cool items available...
gift certificates to a wide variety of restaurants in the greater Richmond area (such as Cha-Chas, Starbucks, Turner and Bragg)
jewelry
artwork
wine
A Timex Ironman watch
A cooler filled with Gatorade products (a necessity for all of my athletic friends!)
And...an autographed basketball from this year's super-awesome University of Richmond men's basketball team. As of this writing, they are gearing up for tomorrow's A-10 championship game against Temple (they just beat top 25 team Xavier!)
I don't want to jinx them, but I'm thinking they are NCAA-bound. Go Spiders!
Meanwhile, my fundraising is in great shape. My initial goal was $1,500 but I'm already at close to $1,800. I've raised my expectations (and efforts) to try to reach $2,500. I have about $700.00 more to raise to reach that goal. Keep spreading the word, my friends. As my friends Nicole and Art pointed out to me, cancer is not (unfortunately) in a recession.
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Silent Mile
Despite the wintry weather, our spring and summer marathon, 10K, triathlon and cycle teams continue to train and raise money to fight cancer. We had an amazing workout on Saturday morning (yes, it was a bit chilly) that involved all of our teams. We met at West Creek as one, large group to start the day with the silent mile.
Please read my teammate Art's blog for an excellent entry about the event. We have mission moments like Saturday to help us stay focused on our main goal: to fight cancer.
My fund raising has slowed down a bit, but never fear. I have several plans (including stepping up my letter writing campaign) to raise funds. Thank you to the moms (mine and Rick's) for their recent contributions. Stay tuned for more information about the Team in Training silent auction at Blackfinn's on March 16th. You are all invited!
I am so close to my minimum of $1,500 - but I want to keep on raising money. My next goal is $2,000. If I hit that mark, I'll just keep on going until my event.
Please read my teammate Art's blog for an excellent entry about the event. We have mission moments like Saturday to help us stay focused on our main goal: to fight cancer.
My fund raising has slowed down a bit, but never fear. I have several plans (including stepping up my letter writing campaign) to raise funds. Thank you to the moms (mine and Rick's) for their recent contributions. Stay tuned for more information about the Team in Training silent auction at Blackfinn's on March 16th. You are all invited!
I am so close to my minimum of $1,500 - but I want to keep on raising money. My next goal is $2,000. If I hit that mark, I'll just keep on going until my event.
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