She-Wolf Comes out of Closet

It was a long awaited event. The “She-Wolf” finally gathered up the courage to debut in her first triathlon. Her fear ravaged her in the weeks preceeding the Kokopelli. We didn’t think she had the guts, and maybe, just maybe, telling her such a thing proved motivational for her. She showed up ready to prove that wolves have guts just like goats.

It was a beautiful and peaceful morning when we arrived at Sandhollow Reservoir. The sun had not yet risen, but its glow began to grace the water. There was something magical about to occur, or so we thought. We set up our transition and pulled on our wet suits. We giggled our way down to the water where She-Wolf began to howl, “WE ARE GOING TO WIN!” Of course we both laughed more than we were before, knowing this was far from the truth. But then again, what is the definition of winning when you accomplish something you were so afraid of you didn’t think you possibly could? Winning is fulfilling a dream, an accomplishment, and in this case crossing the finish line alive.

The swim began, and of course the She-Wolf described it as mating season of carp floundering in the water, over crowded and quite slippery. Each buoy smiled upon us as evidence that we were indeed moving forward inspite of the lack of turbulance. Steady and slow we paced until we arrived at the boat ramp excited to see our flip flops were waiting for us. We slipped them on and headed up to the bike transition.

She-Wolf thought bike transition was a place for primping, and I had to remind her that we needed to put down the make up and get going. No, really, she didn’t bring make up, but it sounded good. We crossed the transition mat into the bike portion and began the ride. The first small incline the She-Wolf asked, “Is this the big hill?” Of course she knew it wasn’t, but we both laughed. We made it to the big hill, crossed the cattle guard and climbed without incident. All was well. We made it to the turn around and headed back down the hill.

“Kaboooooooom……….squeak……shoosh…..” was all we heard, and we came to a quick stop. I was afraid it was her tire at first, thinking she would be traumatized for life. Then I realized it was my back tire. I flipped my bike over and changed out the flat, got it aired back up and thought we were ready to go again. That’s when we saw the tube bulging out a pea sized hole in my tire. Not only had my tube exploded, but my tire was shredding. At that point I realized there was nothing else I could do to get my tire fixed. The second tube quickly exploded through the hole in the tire. I looked at She-Wolf and told her she would have to go on without me. Her sad wolf eyes looked as if they would cry at any moment. “You can do it. Go ahead, and I will meet you at the run portion.” Off she went down the hill, and I knew her self motivation would pick up in honor of the “idea” we had for this day all the while hating the shredded bike tire that ended the race for me.

There were a couple of volunteers at the cattle guard, and one was really sweet . He tried to get me picked up since walking all the way back in my bike shoes and cleats was not an option. He could tell I was totally disappointed, and he kept offering up entertainment to make things easier. I have to admit, it was a bit comical all the while disappointing. The cattle guard back flip was pretty cool, but the stink bug experiment was not on my list of favorites. The emergency truck said they could not pick me up for a half hour. I was quite annoyed with that news since that truck was going up and down the course the entire time we were riding before. It was blowing diesel exhaust in our faces the entire time, and we were complaining to each other about it. It was even on the cattle guard when we went up the hill, and we had to cross the cattle guard next to it. Then when I needed a ride to transition with my shredded tire, the truck couldn’t come get me for half hour. I was sad.

They finally came and got me, and by then I knew it was too late to do anything else. I just wanted to go home at that point. To make matters worse, the guy said, “Give me your timing chip. You are disqualified because I gave you a ride.” Duh. I already knew I was done, but did he have to say it like that? The Goat snapped a picture of me getting my bike out of the back of the truck, and he didn’t realize what I’d just been through when he recommended for me to go finish the run. The race was basically over, and my motivation was gone so I declined.

We headed down to the finish to cheer on the She-Wolf. Every single woman wearing blue regardless of size, shape, or color that the Goat saw, he automatically thought it was her! In fact, her ran up to the podium and told them to make a big deal of her when she crossed the finish line. I kept yelling to him that it wasn’t her, and he couldn’t hear me. So when the lady in blue came up the announcer kept yelling at her and calling her She-Wolf, and it most certainly was not the She-Wolf!!! Later the She-Wolf said she could hear the announcer from down on the trail in the desert and was wondering if he could see her all the way out there. When she came running in, she looked like she could do a repeat of the entire race. She was smiling and did not appear to be suffering at all. The Goat ran to the podium again and said, “This is the real She-Wolf!” And it was.

The She-Wolf accomplished something she was very afraid of for a long time. She was so excited to prove to herself that she could actually do a triathlon. She kissed her medal, and said she could do another one but not that day.

It was pedicures and massages after that. Then the lil sista arrived. That Goat became a professional “Nanny Goat” for the evening, and it was good.

Lake Las Vegas Triathlon

The Goat was aching to try out the new Cervelo in its debut triathlon. Sure enough his creativity flourished once again as he planned a “weekend” getaway around a race. I couldn’t complain. The accommodations were beautiful. http://www.lakelasvegas.com/accommodations_hyatt.asp

The sprint wasn’t enough for him. He had to sign up for the long course, a 0.96 Mile Swim, 25.25 Mile Bike, 5.9 Mile Run. http://www.sunsetracing.com/events/lake-las-vegas-tri When I got down to the race course the sprint racers were making the transition from swim to bike. The Goat was long gone on the long course. I figured I had some time before he came in on the bike. I was immediately proven wrong. After only about 5-6 long course bikers had come in, the Goat totally caught me off guard. There he was zooming by, and all I had time for was a tail shot. I figured he had to be flying on the new bike to be that far up in the pack. It was really exciting to see him so far ahead.

I hurried down to the ramp by transition, but unfortunately pictures must be taken with the lens cap off. I fired myself as the Goat paparazzi that day. I walked down to the village and waited for the finishers to cross the mat. Cow bells were abundant. I found my place up on a wall next to a tree and snagged a video clip of the finish. Yay!

The Goat was a bit frustrated when he finished. Apparently some of the helpers on the course, mostly kids, directed the first runners out on a golf course instead of in the direction of the true race course. He said he ran around an extra ten minutes in the wrong place before he figured out they sent him in the wrong direction. He still took 3rd place in his age group, but he could have shaved off a good ten minutes if he’d stayed on course.

Overall, the Goat was very satisfied with the "pretty" and "fast" new bike.

Bicycle Polygamy

Bicycle Polygamy

The relationship began as lust on the internet. He saw something amazing. He wanted to experience the ride it could provide him. He pursued the dream even if others did not agree or understand. It was what he wanted. He clicked the mouse and waited.

The old model, an ancient Trek, was apparently due for an upgrade. I thought the Goat would dump her when he got the new model, but he just could not part with her. All the various excuses for keeping her around to add to his growing bike gear collection seemed predictable. “I need the heavy bike for training. Maybe I will set her up on the bike trainer in my classroom and ride during breaks. This old bike and I have a bond, a special relationship. We’ve been through a lot together.” So his “love” for the old girl was just too strong to let her go when the new one came along. A Cervelo P2C Dura Ace compared to the dinosaur Trek seemed no comparison, but apparently the “lust” has not yet grown into that type of “love.”

I didn’t think it was safe to buy a road bike on the internet, but apparently if you know what you are doing you can get a perfect bike for a perfect price. The Goat knew the precise measurements for the bike he needed to fit his 6’4” frame and ended up being the biggest bike frame he could get. After careful research and deciding he wanted a “Triathlon AKA Time Trial Bike,” he found her on ebay with only about 100 miles of use. The price was right, and it was the bike he’d been searching for. He made arrangements for Sunset Cycles http://sunset-cycles.com/ to assemble the bike and provide the professional bike fit. His excitement was evident each day that he checked the UPS tracking number to see where it was.

The day of the bike fit was like the Garden of Love for the Goat. He was like a little kid on Christmas morning. After the adjustments were made and the bike was ready to go, he had to take a practice loop in the parking lot. Of course that was not enough for the Goat.

His first trial ride of the new girl was the forty-four mile Veyo loop. The Goat has become familiar with this route and has done it many times now. One thing he had not expected was a car full of teenagers to hang out the window trying to grab him, not once, but on two different occasions. I was not excited to hear this, and wondered about a new purpose for the mace we got when a mountain lion was removed just blocks away from the bike trails we use frequently. Apparently, it’s a cool thing to try and kill people by grabbing them on bikes if your cerebral cortex is not fully developed. I was wondering if the Goat’s was developed when he told me he made a max speed of 46.8 miles per hour on the new Cerveza, I mean Cervelo.

Congratulations on the new partner. May you have many happy years together with safe and happy rides, and may you avoid and/or ignore teenagers who want you to fall off. It’s a beautiful bike. I would have picked it just for the color. I give it my stamp of approval minus the 46.8 mph.

Metric Century

What is a metric century? It’s not a measurement of the Goat’s childhood Angus Bull named “Century.” Instead, in a partially less smelly definition, it is a bike ride that consists of 62 miles. One hundred kilometers equals 62 miles; thus the birth of the term “metric century” is born.

The Goat decided to partake of a metric century plus a few more, disguised by the costume of a “family hike” at Zion National Park. It’s amazing how creative this man becomes when drenched in drool from the potential of sweating and experiencing bodily pain. He said to give him about three hours before I drove out to pick him up. Of course, I gave him more than he asked for as always, but his time planning is usually quite accurate. He called from a coffee shop in Springdale, saying he felt great and was ready for a “hike.”

The ride to Zion was not enough for him. He had to go up the canyon and back down to make it a cool 65 mile ride. He experienced some neck pain and did not know why and later attributed it to the new helmet he had never worn before.

I found him snoozing by the river with his face caked in salt AKA dried sweat. We went to the apple orchards and let the kids pick some fresh apples while he cleaned up and changed out of his bike gear. We headed up into the park and did a couple small hikes totaling about 2 ½ miles. The river was nice and cool and everyone enjoyed wading through it, everyone except for the Goat because he didn’t want to get his trail shoes wet. He did it anyway, and they dried out just fine.

The “metric” breakdown of the Goat’s activity consists of a few critical milestones. His weight has dropped down more than 40 pounds since his high point. He is enjoying the new old wardrobe. His custom orthotics arrived and are still in the trial stages of approval or denial. He has mastered some stretching that has greatly improved the Plantar Fasciitis. It appears to be in almost complete remission. He is trail running approximately 27 miles a week and plans to increase that within the next three weeks in preparation for the St. George Marathon. http://www.stgeorgemarathon.com/ It appears that the Goat is well on his way to achieving his goals.