Adrenaline Junkie By Day

This post could be considered old news but hey better late than never.

Witnessing the highly trained kinetics of the worlds best athletes in Beijing have been exciting at best. Their exhibition of strength and stamina at Olympic feats is always unbelievable. But no matter where you live, there is always a local scene, attempting similar feats, that are far more inspiring than the genetic, best-of seen in HD on the TV.

For example, Ava and I witnessed first hand a different side of Mama. A side that hides behind a kind and loving face. A side that has been chiseled to a state of readiness thanks to months of high-intensity training. A side that exploded into action during the Jordanelle Triathlon. A side that may make a man question his own masculine integrity.

Though we didn't follow Mare on all her events, I did position Ava at the transition station and the finish line. These viewpoints were strategic, I thought, in cheering her on and to boost morale, which they were, but by doing so I never thought I would expose Ava to scenes that by film standards could be considered PG-13. Broken, battered bodies, bleeding and suffering passed by us by the dozens. Several met their accidental tragedy mere feet from Ava's front row seat! Unfazed, she would mutter the occasional and indifferent "ooooh, bike fall down", or "run FASTER" as she nonchalantly laid further back in her stroller and sipped her juice.

Great, I thought, as visions of a mother-daughter adrenaline junkie team, leaving dad in the dust, raced through my mind. I guess I better get my running shoes on.

Fantastic job, Babe!

I am a Triathlete

Jordanelle Sprint Triathlon, August 23, 2008

Training miles spent on the bike since April: 324
Training hours spent in the pool since February: about 42
Days spent sick directly preceding race day: 7
Doses of Zicam taken in a desperate attempt to get well: at least 30
Large fleshy things encountered in the water determined not to be human: 1
Kicks perpetrated upon my person in the water: about 10
Kicks to the ribs sufficient to knock the air out: 1
Proportion of the swim that I actually swam front crawl: ½
Change in confidence while swimming in a wetsuit versus without: +50%
Lifeboats dispatched for my assistance: 0
Number of serious bike wipeouts witnessed firsthand: 2
Increase in mph pace during bike race versus training sessions: 2
Decrease in mph pace during foot race versus training sessions: 0.85
Ounces of water I drank after race with no pee to show for it: 136
Hours spent in the pool since race day: 0

I have, of course, been meaning to write about the event for which so much of my time and energy have been sucked away. I decided that writing a blog is similar to keeping a scrapbook. I get so behind in documenting things that I avoid doing it because of the pile of things left unsaid and the escalating guilt. But I really do want to talk about my race so here I am.

The night before the race Ava slept over at Grandma’s and I cried at the thought of spending my first night ever away from her. Jon and I drove up into the mountains just east of Jordanelle and slept in the back of the VW bus. Well actually I just lay in my sleeping bag in the back of the bus all night. But at least I got to the race on time, leisurely set up my gear, and had plenty of time to sit and enjoy the effects of my stomach turning flips.

Race day was beautiful, sunny, and not too hot. The water temp was around 60 degrees and the swim felt like one big collective thrashing. After exiting the water and feeling like I was just beaten with a club, getting on the bike was like relaxing in a lazy boy. The bike route was absolutely beautiful and I breezed through the 14 miles. By the time I started running, I had nothing left to give due to being sick all week but shuffled through and finished in a respectable timeframe. I know if I had been feeling strong and well at the start I could’ve raced much faster but honestly I was just happy to be there taking part. This race was only the beginning.

Thanks to Jon, Mom, and my sisters for willingly taking Ava for many of my training sessions. Thanks to Ava for making a simple bargain with me: enduring training runs in the stroller and yelling out “faster, mama!” in exchange for a simple cup of M&Ms. And thanks to you who simply cared and supported my goal; for your phone calls, emails, and shouts from the sidelines.

Jackson Hole 2008

We spent the last week in July in Jackson, Wyoming for the annual Lauder family vacation. In terms of our own personal agenda, this was the laziest vacation in our history. We always plan to do some camping or set out to hike some grandiose trail for a few days on our own. Even the last couple of years when Ava was still tiny we managed to hike far up into the Tetons and explore some Yellowstone backcountry. This year? I think Jon and I are cumulatively just worn out. The thought of being up half the night with Ava because she won’t sleep anywhere but her own bed and then having to deal with her grumpiness all day was enough to keep us firmly grounded at the condo with the rest of the family. I fear our survival instinct is growing stronger than our need for adventure….ugh, we’re becoming old fuddy-duddies.

Happily, Ava slept much better than anticipated (which doesn’t really say much considering I expected absolute insomnia hell) and I didn’t even have to share my bed with the little wiggler. Every night she kicked around in her Pack-n-Play with the whole extra inch it gave around her height. But at least she slept and only woke up crying once or twice the whole week. Huzzah!

The most blissful moments of the trip for me were spent on my 32 mile road bike trek. I was only going to go out for about an hour and headed out behind town and north to Teton Village. But when I arrived there in no time at all and saw the entrance to Teton NP right there, I decided to keep going, probably against my better judgment since I had no ID, no wallet, no tools, and no food. I had nothing with me but a couple of water bottles. The woman at the entrance station graciously let me enter for free and about 10 seconds after that (cover your ears, Jeffrey) I began wondering how my super-duper speedy lightweight road bike would perform on a rocky, holey dirt road. Looking back, I realize just how lucky I was to escape a flat tire or a dropped chain and having to walk the 15 miles back to town. So the ride was sketchy and slow there for a bit, but boy, was it gorgeous! There’s something about the Teton Valley landscape that just absolutely feels like home to me. Every rock and flower feels familiar. I sped into Moose, then headed south along the main park highway and just managed to avoid being flattened by some gargantuan motorhome.

That Saturday night all the Teerlinks attended the Jackson Rodeo. Ava just couldn’t get over the sight of the carnival rides on the other side of the arena and pitched a fit so I was able to watch all of 10 minutes of the rodeo before taking her out to the petting zoo and home to bed. But I think overall everyone else enjoyed it.

As tradition holds, everyone in the family gathers for an afternoon at String Lake. We eat lunch, paddle in the canoes, catch frogs, and jump off rocks. I bought Ava a little blowup floatie shaped like a spaceship and was rewarded with a big, beautiful perma-grin on her shining face. But mostly she just loves to throw rocks in the water and wade around in her Tevas so I’ve learned that toys are just baggage when there’s splashing to be done. We took our turn in the Keowee and Ava even let Jon paddle for a bit.

One afternoon we took a stroll on our own to Phelps lake and Ava showed her true hiking colors. She was absolutely a trooper and hiked most of the way there on her own. Her little legs got tired on the way back so she rode on Jon's shoulders and made up for it by declaring that he must jump! off every rock in the trail.

Other trip highlights included the traditional hike to Hidden "Waterfalldown" and the boat ride back across Jenny Lake and a visit to Rockefeller center. Pretty low key, lazy vacation.

All in all, a MUCH better vacation than last year's Jackson trip simply because we all felt happier. We finally learned to lower our standards. Maybe we'll get braver and actually try camping again someday.