3athletejen

T he tray is smaller than standard size. I swear. Tofu, noodle, lettucey goodness. "I'm eating the other half." That's why I love her. Because I wanted my other half, too. There's really no comment for this. My friend Heather and I had lunch at Longboard’s today, a place that epitomizes American-size food servings. Wraps as big as your head and they are oh-so-good. We used to eat there regularly, but traded out for healthier fare a couple years ago. But today was an “I can eat a horse” day. And if horses can be made out of tofu and rice noodles, I did. My watch battery died so I stopped at a jewelry store to have it replaced. While waiting, I hesitated next to the counter with a Panerai Luminor, my dream watch. The sales lady ever so kindly offered to place it on my wrist. “Run! Abort! Leave now!” My mind screamed. My feet, however, remained planted as I stared longingly at the timepiece I’ve wanted for a decade. She could negotiate some off the price. They co

Yesterday was one of those days when intentions are good, but energy is nonexistent. Training schedule said 80 min. bike; body said nap. I napped. There's a fine line between pushing through minor fatigue and ignoring my body's warning signs. It's only taken me decade to recognize this. And 58 different injuries. My mentality used to be "if some is good, more is better." While I still apply this to cookie-eating, I don't when training. And my normal injuries seem to be staying at bay. Since yesterday became a rest day, I hoped to awaken this morning with some zest. Despite being only mildly refreshed, Axel and I were at the downtown airport by 5:30A where I knocked out a 25 mile ride and 2.5 mile run. It was a gorgeous morning. While riding loops gets monotonous, watching the sunrise reflect off the skyline never gets old. Sometimes the workout itself is the reward.

When the humidity is so high that a run feels like a swim, it's time to take it inside. Which is what I'll be doing in the next hour. On a treadmill. Physically exerting yourself in this heat makes no sense. (Unless, it's a job. People gotta make a living.) But running in this? There's no prize for most dehydrated. That's all I've got today.

I survived my first triathlon in three years. I laughed, I cried, I puked. Kidding. I didn't laugh or cry. However, I did throw up after crossing the finish line. Hate sprints. The swim was great, the bike was good and the run simply sucked. Out of 125 short course female racers, I was 2nd on the swim, 2nd on the bike and...wait for it... 17th on the run. No big secret what I need to work on. Final placement was 4th overall and 2nd in my age group, though I was awarded first since the overall winner was in my age group. (Love how that works.) Prizes were specially labeled bottles of wine from Les Bourgeios Winery. Last week I was motivationally deficient. I whined to Boyfriend (and anyone else who would listen) about how I didn't want to race. At all. For the rest of the summer. I was ready to retreat to yoga-world and put Axel (my bike) on Craigslist. But Boyfriend appealed to my frugality, pointing out I'd already paid for the race, so may as well do it. I conceded. Nothi

So tomorrow’s my first race in, oh, about three years. I have squelched all expectations. Here are my excuses: 1. My running has been minimal. 2. My bike training has lacked hills. 3. Two nights this week I’ve had cocktails with friends and woken up a mild hungover, one of which is this today. 4. My nutrition has been crap and included way too many gem doughnuts. 5. This is the shortest possible distance I can do and still consider it a race. 6. I’m not familiar with the race course and clearly don’t care enough to go drive it ahead of time. 7. Racing a sprint hurts. 8. I don’t like pain. 9. I’m old. 10. For sprints I like to wear a one-piece swimsuit with a chamois. But they must not make them anymore, because I can’t find one anywhere. Damn it. So I will be chamois-less. Post race should be interesting. So why am I even racing? I’m not sure. Maybe just to see if I still enjoy it after a three-year layoff. Should know the answer by 9:30 a.m. tomorrow.

Last night, I lounged in my recliner reading Women’s Health while eating a Heath Bar. Ah, the irony – reading about fitness while fattening my ass. But it got me thinking about the whole workout/nutrition/body composition situation. One of the biggest reasons I exercise is to eat. And by eat, I mean food I love. Like wedding cake. Or cheese dip. Pizza. A protein shake is not food; it’s a punishment. I love food, always have. You know those people that say they “forget” to eat? Huh? That’s incomprehensible. I’ve forgotten to bring my lunch to work a couple times, but it wasn’t on purpose. And I still managed to eat. (Popcorn, oatmeal and a Twix make a perfectly fine lunch.) Even as a kid, I was a huge eater. My dad nicknamed me Horse after I literally made myself sick eating roast beef and mashed potatoes. His comment went something like; “I hope you’re always into sports because you sure eat a lot.” It stuck. At 37, I’m still a big eater. (According to Boyfriend, the biggest

In honor of my dad’s 73 rd birthday, here are some of his finer words of wisdom: “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” Yelled to my sisters and I first thing on Saturday mornings. “Patience is a virtue.” Whatever. “Jennifer Rebecca….” That meant go to my room. Quickly. “Sitting in a chair, twirling a whistle and working on your tan is not stressful. Quit complaining.” “Always ask for extra malt.” When ordering a malt at Baskin Robbins. “If you don’t find a summer job by Friday, Popeye’s is hiring. I’ll fill out the application for you.” “You missed a spot.” Yelled at me from the deck when I mowed the lawn. “Jennifer, you can do many things. But under no circumstances should you major in sociology. You are the most unempathetic person I know.” Good call. “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Also a Billy Ocean song. “Easy Money…” His name for an individual whose name he forgot. “Nothing good happens after 11:30 p.m.” Which is why this wa

I finished Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer this week. A quick read if you find factory farming interesting. Or horrifying. This is the latest attempt to better educate myself about the journey food takes in getting to my stomach. Gory details aside, Foer lays it out there. You do not want to know how a chicken breast becomes juicy or the actual amount of waste that is produced on a factory farm and what’s done with it. (Maybe a fecal fountain to go with a side of asthma?) No judgment is being passed, since I have eaten meat in the past month. The occasions are few, but it’s easy to fall back to the “I eat it because it tastes good” mentality. Or when my dad grills steak because he still thinks it’s my favorite meal. (I loved steak so much as a kid I would eat the leftover fat.) Clearly my convictions are not stronger that the desire to please my father. My journey to vegetarianism is obviously not complete, but is getting close. The more I learn the less meat I eat. It’

Training is about a B- right now. Running has been minimal due to some calf issues. I blame the feet shoes. Boyfriend and I saw Get Him to the Greek last night and found it surprisingly good. (Unlike Hot Tub Time Machine , which we had high hopes for and was only ho-hum.) Laughed to the point of tears several times. Russell Brand can actually act and P Diddy is hilarious. If you like Superbad type humor, you will like this. I ranked it above The Hangover , though Boyfriend didn’t quite agree with that assessment. Followed movie with a scoop of chocolate-peanut butter from Baskin-Robbins. Perfect summer night.

1. If you have a temporary crown, do not eat Milk Duds. If you ignore this, know that Fixodent may be required to reattach the crown to your now nubbin tooth. 2. The Sunflower Bike Shop in Lawrence is fantastic. Their people are helpful, but don’t hover. I will not specifically call out any Kansas City bike shops, but several could learn tips about customer service from Sunflower. 3. My old tri shoes were starting to mildew, so I bought a new pair. They remind me of the shoes Uncle Eddie gave to Clark in the movie Vacation . 4. A new helmet was also purchased. My old helmet was involved in an altercation involving a “Road Closed” sign. (Yes, my head was in it at the time.) I used it for three more years, not realizing helmets are good for one collision only. 5. If a restaurant is good enough, I have no problem eating there two days in a row, as was the case with Esquina in Lawrence. The tofu tacos are especially good. 6. While I like the concept of open water swims, I am sq