Down to the wire

Silverlake was a bust, and Capital of Texas Tri was a no-go, so I'm down to my third and last option: Danskin.

Screw this one up, and the title "triathlete" goes out the window. Instead, I'm just that girl who exercises a lot. Not as cool.

And yes, yesterday was my birthday. I am officially 29 and holding. So, thanks to all who called or emailed, and if you forgot, just consider it a preemptive strike for when I forget your birthdays next time. No worries:)

Good news, I'm lucid

So, my hormones are all calmed down and the adrenaline has drained from my body, and I'm back to regular, lucid, non-ranting Robin. With a rib issue.

I did actually take a nap Sunday, and by mid-afternoon I absolutely could not stand my own melodrama, so I got over it.

Still bummed? Yes. But, it was just one of those weird things, an accident, and not at all the end of the world.

I think the rib is bruised, not broken. I feel kind of achy all over, and every time I laugh or sneeze, I regret it. Otherwise, all is well. The race this weekend is off, but I'm still going to drive to Austin and cheer for the people in my class. It's almost as exciting to watch them succeed as to do it myself, you know? I feel like we're a team.

So, rest assured I'm fine. Bruised, but not broken. I'll be ready for Danskin.

DNF

Any minute now, results will be posted for the Silverlake Tri, and next to my name it will say DNF. Did Not Finish.

I am so damn disappointed, I can't even explain. Every time I think about that moment where I realized, "There's no way I can finish this race" and made the decision to quit, I start crying again. I'm totally boo-hooing as I type this.

I'm not sure why this race meant so much to me - maybe because it was the first, maybe because it was the one I counted on finishing since it was shortest, I'm not sure. Anyway, I didn't finish, and I feel absolutely demoralized.

Before the race I was totally excited and having fun. I got there early, set up my little station, ran into two attorneys from work and a guy from my training class. My race number was 69, and there is just enough 13-year-old boy in me that I was amused at having that written all over my body in Magic Marker.

Then, we got all lined up for the swimming waves. Men went first, oldest to youngest, then women. So, my age group was the very last group in the water. We cheered every time the starting gun went off, every time a new age group began. As we shuffled forward, we were all getting nervous, but excited.

Finally it was our turn. The entire group gets into the water together, waiting for the gun to start swimming. We were packed fairly close together, and I remember thinking that I wished I were off to the side. But then the gun went off, and we were all swimming, and I was amazed that OH MAN, I am doing a triathlon!

And that's when some girl in front of me gave me a swift kick in my right ribs. Direct hit. Sharp pain. I think I cried out, because all of a sudden I was swallowing a lot of lake water, and my ribs were throbbing.

I'm not sure what made up my mind, maybe the sight of my whole group swimming off without me, but I decided I wasn't quitting without a fight. So I swam. I swam that whole fucking lake, wincing and doggie paddling and backstroking and probably crying, but I did it. I was the very last person out of the water. I know I came out crying and holding my right side, and I remember an EMT asking if I needed help, but I brushed past him and got ready to start biking.

The bike route was two 5-mile loops. I made it around once, five miles, hurting with every breath I took, before I quit. I remember seeing the four-mile mark, and thinking, "Can I do this again? Can I make this lap again? And then do the run? I'm more than halfway, and the hard part is behind me." And then I remember deciding no, and preparing to turn in, and people were cheering for me, yelling, "You're doing great!" and "Almost there!" and I felt like such a fraud, because I knew I wasn't doing great, wasn't even going to finish.

So that is how my race finished...I pulled up to the transition station, and somebody started yelling for the EMT, and an ambulance drove over, and I just remember crying and crying, so mad at that anonymous girl, and so mad at myself for quitting.

Bottom line, it appears I have a broken or fractured rib. Which means that the Capital of Texas tri is probably out too, since it is next weekend.

So, I'm going to feel really, really sorry for myself until maybe 2:00. I'm going to take a shower, and cry, and take a nap, and really wallow in how disappointed I am. After that, feel free to start reminding me how life is about the journey, and I'm a winner because I took the class, and all of that stuff that I know but don't want to focus on yet. Right now, I'm just too damn sad.

Silverlake in the morning!!!

This afternoon at 4:00, I decided to take a little nap. The idea was to grab a few Z's, then go to the gallery opening of a friend of mine, then get ready for the triathlon, and hit the sack by 10:00. I'm supposed to be there ready to go at 5:30 am.

Instead, I went to sleep at 4:00 and woke up at 10:30. Doh.

So, here I am, my giant Nordstrom bag of triathlon stuff packed, stressing over stuff like whether the number should be pinned on the front or back of my shirt, where to put the stickers on my helmet, blah, blah, blah. And now I am wide awake. So, I'm chilling out with a bowl of cereal and a very special Dr. Phil primetime special. This is not exactly how I intended to prepare for the race, but I guess it'll do.

Of COURSE, I will let you all know how it went tomorrow. There are only 400 people in the race, so I anticipate finishing somewhere around 398. Surely there are two people slower than me:)

Fire Drill

So I just got back from a fire drill. Basically, this means the accounting department runs around forcing all the lawyers out of our offices ("But that's like thirteen minutes of billable time!!!") and into the hallway. If we don't all get out before the fire marshall gets there, we get fined, so the accounting department is very motivated.

Then, we usually just stand around talking about (1) how much it would suck if we actually had to walk down all those flights of stairs, or (2) the time that woman on the 40th floor set herself on fire trying to burn mementos of her ex-boyfriend on the balcony of their offices.

This time, however, we had a little twist.

My firm takes up half of our floor. The other half is taken up by a certain Enron defendant's legal team. The federal courthouse is across the street from my building, so it has been basically a big media circus around here the past few months. We're all relieved the jury is deliberating, and will be thrilled when this is over and the parking garage clears out a little.

Now, the Enroners basically keep to themselves. They have huges boxes blocking all the windows into their entryway, and they are all weird and silent in the hallways, and since they are from LA, they don't know that you're supposed to let women get on and off the elevator first, so there is always an awkward moment when we all ride it together and everyone surges forward en masse.

Today, however, the fire drill was the great equilizer. All of us had to get out and squish together in the entryway. So, I just stood around for ten minutes or so of, "So, you guys hanging in over there?" "Ready to get back home, I bet?" "Is it always this hot here?" blah, blah, blah. Very weird to see these guys on TV, and also see them milling around by the elevators while we listen to the fire drill message screeched in four languages.

In other news, I have my first official triathlon on Sunday. On Wednesday, I found out THAT I AM SWIMMING WRONG. I am really unsure how in the past four months Coach Jim managed to miss it, but apparently my freestyle stroke is a no-go. So, we got that all squared away, and went on with class, and my chest and shoulders were EXHAUSTED by the end of class. This worries me a little bit, but hell, I figure I'm going to have to do a backstroke/dog paddle combo for most of the swim anyway.

I'll let you know how it goes...

I'M BLIND!!!

nononononononononononononononononononononono.

Tonight at swim class, Coach Jim showed up in a red floral speedo.

And Coach Jim is roughly 94 years old.

Enough said.

Always say FUNERAL

So I've received a ton of emails asking for the exact details of the partner/Robin confrontation. You guys are totally interested in the juicy details, vultures. Here's how it went down:

Robin: (walks toward security line, fumbling for driver's license. spots partners. freezes. waves feebly. )
Partner 1: Hey!! What are you doing here?
Robin: Um, yeah! Hi, are you guys going to a trial?
Partner 2: Yeah, an appellate trial. What about you?
Robin: Oh, look, your turn in security. See you later!

At this point, we're seperated by the security lines, and AS ALWAYS I am flagged for extra security. So, while my shoes are being examined and my bag being swabbed and myself being patted down, they walk off.

Robin: (walking to gate, thinking, "Maybe they'll forget they saw me.")
Partners 1 and 2: Hey!! Look who's on our flight!! Awesome!! (Idle awkward chat, until...)
Partner 1: So, seriously, what are you going to Dallas for?

Now, in the intervening 24 hours, COUNTLESS people have said, like the smooth liars you know you are, "Please tell me you said funeral?" Like that just CAME to them, in an instant!!! I am much less smart, and frankly drew a blank, so I went with...

Robin: (deep breath) Ok, guys, I'm just going to level with you. I called in sick today, I'm wearing a suit, I'm at the airport...I think you can draw your own conclusions. I would really appreciate your discretion with my boss, but do what you have to do.

Partner 1: I called it!!! HA!

Partner 2: Seriously, Robin, if you're going to do this kind of thing, you have to fly out the night before, to avoid just this situation.

Robin: Um, ok, I'll remember that for next time?

The rest of the flight was fairly awkward as they joked about my last-minute "visit to my aunt" because of the "fabulous shopping" in Dallas. Yeah, that's it.

The good news is, yesterday at work was fine. I think they've actually decided to keep this all quiet, and be good guys about it.

So, all is well that ends well.

The lessons I have to pass on to the masses are as follows:

1. The answer is "Funeral"
2. Always fly out the night before. Save yourself the grief.

So much bad

The past 24-hours...so bad. Ok, here we go:

Around 5 last night I started trying to track down a package from DHL. I'd ordered a few new suits from Ann Taylor, and had two interviews today, so it was pretty important they show up. So, phone call, phone call, meltdown, phone call, meltdown, phone call....bottom line the package was nowhere to be found, was not delivered on time, and could not be delivered before my interviews.

Enter the nicest man ever in history: Will from DHL. Will offered to stay late, dig around in the huge warehouse of packages, find mine, and bring it to my house at like midnight. I love Will. So, instead of getting to bed at some reasonable time, I sat around waiting on Will's call. Sainted Will found my suits at about 10pm - disaster averted. I strongly recommend that you all immediately call DHL and tell them you love them. They're great.

So, off to sleep at midnight or so, and then woke up at 5 to get ready to catch my flight, and to email my boss that I was sick. Yeah, sick, that's it. So sick, I had to take a day off work to go interview for other jobs.

Went to the airport, went to get my boarding pass, and...I had no reservation. The travel agency had reserved my flight, but hadn't paid for it. So, I antied up a credit card and headed for the security line.

This is where things turn bad. Now, there are maybe 25 attorneys at my firm. And I live in a huge city. What are the odds I would run into attorneys from my firm at the airport? Turns out it's roughly 100%. Two partners from my firm were in the security line in front of me. Also on my flight. Also, I sat between them on the plane. Yeah, that was a little awkward.

So, the "Robin is Secretly Interviewing" cat is inadvertently out of the bag.

The interviews themself were fine. I'll keep you posted. Meanwhile, I'm just sitting here dreading the moment when I face my boss tomorrow and listen to snide comments about how I'm feeling, etc, etc.

Jesus Bread, Part II

Jesus Bread rocks. Woot!

I had two slices of Jesus Toast with my organic pasta and organic artichoke/tomato sauce and broccolini. It's been a big night in Robin's kitchen.

Jesus Bread is like the most grainy, wheaty bread ever. The slices are thin, but they are super heavy and chewy. I had two pieces, and I feel like I ate a brick. Jesus Bread is to be eaten in moderation, it seems. I'm fairly sure Jesus is on the record in favor of moderation, so that works.

After dinner, I was so pumped about Jesus Bread that I googled it to see what other people think about it. It seems that Jesus Bread is beloved by (1) diabetics, (2) cults, and (3) bodybuilders. I don't really fit in with those, so I think I'm starting a new category - (4) People who watch Oprah.

The best discovery of the night, however, was finding the Jesus Bread website: http://www.food-for-life.com/index.asp

Now, I can not only have Jesus Bread, I can apparently have Jesus Tortillas, Jesus Pitas, Jesus Muffins, Jesus Fettuccine, Jesus Hot Dog Buns, and Jesus Raisin Bran.

A few random things

1. I tood a nice swig of Pom juice at lunch. It tastes kind of like grape juice. Actually, it tastes exactly like the juice my church used for communion. So, I am convinced this is just a marketing ploy of the Southern Baptist Convention to unload surplus communion grape juice. But, I like it, so I'm in.

2. Am I the only one that sees "Porn juice" instead of "Pom juice"? I dunno. I try not to think about it.

3. Unlike Wonder Bread or Mrs. Bairds, which will hold a bread-like shape long after it has decayed, Jesus Bread is hanging onto the title of "bread" by a mere string. Since there are no chemicals or preservatives in it, it is sold frozen. So of course I threw it in my freezer. But now I can't figure out how to eat it. Do I let it thaw in the fridge, like chicken? Do I throw it in the toaster? Do I microwave it? My granny has been known to keep everything from hot dog buns to candles in her massive deep freeze, so I may have to call her and consult. Your ideas are welcome, too.

Jesus Bread

During law school, Oprah, Dr. Phil and I spent many happy afternoons together. Working for a living is really cutting into my free time - the three of us haven't hung out in quite a while. So, yesterday I decided to Tivo Oprah, to catch up on all the good times.

To explain what happened next, I can only say (1) there are no groceries in my kitchen, (2) I'm feeling a little bloaty, (3) my birthday is coming up and (4) Oprah is damn persuasive.

The guest on the show was Doctor Oz, who is very smart and very scary and basically says things like, "America, you are killing yourselves. Go ahead and eat that Pop Tart if you want to die. Look, here is an actual human heart, diseased from Pop Tarts."

Today, he was talking about how your diet ages you. He showed us very scary footage of a woman who ate snack foods and watched TV and slept 18 hours a day, and she was supposed to be 42 but she looked about 92 and had the energy level of someone 202. Let's call her Linda. Linda is in a bad way. Her poor kid has to beg her to get out of bed, and she uses a whole stick of margerine to cook a few eggs. Linda is in distress. Also, Linda wears stretch pants. And as I watch this show, I am wearing stretch pants. Linda and I are not looking good.

Then, we all learned the rules. They are something like the 10 Commandments, with 5 do's and 5 don'ts:

1. Do eat spinach.
2. Do eat garlic.
3. Do eat tomato products. Not ketchup. It has sugar.
4. Do eat olive oil. Did you know you're supposed to keep oil in the fridge? Am I the only one who didn't know that? Also, you're supposed to eat it plain, not cooked. Heat ruins the good stuff.
5. Do eat pomegranates and pom juice.
6. Don't eat foods with sugar. Because sugar is like crack.
7. Don't eat foods with high-fructose corn syrup. This is like gross gluey sugar, and it is in EVERYTHING apparently. The problem is that it blocks the chemical that tells your brain you are full, so you just keep on eating crap. This has bad implications, it seems.
8. Don't eat foods with saturated fat. This means fat that is solid at room temperature, like Crisco or lard. Yum.
9. Don't eat foods with hydrogenated oils. Hydrogenated means a perfectly good oil, like olive oil, has been all hyped up with hydrogen. That's because regular oil, when used to make something like a cracker, would go bad eventually. When hydrogen is added, the oil becomes the consistency of cake frosting, and the crackers can sit on the shelf forever. But it kills you.
10. Don't eat foods with "enriched" anything, like enriched flour. Enriched = crap.

OK, so we have our rules, and I'm a little skeptical, but OH MY GOD out comes Linda after following the 10 Commandments and she is BOUNCING around the stage in cute clothes and she's lost 45 pounds and her kid is all happy and she has all this energy and Doctor Oz tells her she's hot and she very nearly does a herkie, and Oprah has to physically push her arms away to stop the hugging. All this from eating spinach.

The basic idea, says the good doctor, is that we need to think of food as prescription drugs, and read the labels. Some foods (basically anything with 6-10 in it) is proven to make you feel empty, depressed, hungrier, moody, lazy, etc. Stuff without 6-10 makes you feel good.

So, after the show I'm thinking, I could do this. I'm a pretty healthy eater. Those are easy rules. I'LL GO GET GROCERIES!!!

So, that is how I ended up at Kroger at 10pm with a basket filled with the following items:

1. Vegetables by the millions. I won't lie, it was HARD to follow those rules, and veggies were a pretty easy cop out, so I have your usual suspects plus weird stuff like broccolini and spaghetti squash.
2. Pomegranate juice, spinach, olive oil, tomato products and garlic. Of course.
3. Amy's Organic frozen stuff. Again, this is kind of a cop out. I buy that stuff anyway. Those burritos are a gift from heaven. And all that stuff works with the rules.
4. Weird organic yogurt in paper containers. I figured my regular stuff would work, but apparently I have been slowly killing myself with fat-free Dannon. All kinds of high-fructose corn syrup in there.
5. Mozarella sticks made with no flour or chemicals or basically anything except low fat milk and love.
6. And my favorite, Jesus Bread. Or to be accurate, Old Testament Bread. I really tried to find bread without the Big Five. I even tried that really brown, grainy, nutty kind, and even THAT has high fructose corn syrup. But, I did finally manage to find one acceptable brand of bread in the organic frozen food section. Before I go further, let me assure you this is real. There is a brand of bread called Ezekiel 4:9, and the recipe goes a little something like this: "Take also unto thee wheat, and barley, and beans and lentils, and millet and spelt, and put them in one vessel, and make bread of it." Yes, that is a Bible verse. Apparently (according to the package) when all those things are combined and sprout, they make this perfect miracle protein and crazy good bread. I'll let you know. I'm a little leary about "spelt".

So, there you go. I am now the proud owner of Jesus Bread and Pom Juice. I'll post reviews soon.