Today’s post was supposed to be a recap of the UCSD Coveskipper Aquathlon – a triumphant tale of a runner conquering her fear of large bodies of water and inability to graduate from the doggie paddle to complete a 1000m OWS (open water swim) and 5k on the sand… likely in DFL (dead fcking last) because HI San Diego Tri Capital of the Universe but WAY TO GO OVERCOMING YOUR FEARS, GIRLFRIEND!
(super-level runons and some weird self-talk 3rd person narrative – who comes here for proper grammar?)
Instead you’re getting a hodgepodge of way less cool randoms because I didn’t do the race. My in-laws were in town all weekend and while I thought sneaking out a few hours before they flew back to Ohio wouldn’t be a big deal, I started feeling pretty guilty about shorting our time together. We won’t be going home for the holidays so this was our last chance for QT (quality time – I’m all about the acronyms today) in who knows how long. So I bailed on the race and get to keep my unreasonable ocean fear in tact until the next arm-twisting by tri friends. The good news is (other than escaping the death by OWS threat) that the UCSD Tri Club puts on the race as a fundraiser so at least my unused $ went somewhere worthwhile.
Anyway, here’s what else has been going on in my world lately.
Rocky Mayweather OUaL Tyson
you’d be super scared to run into me in a dark alley, wouldn’t you?
Last Wednesday before leaving Ohio from my short visit home after Bourbon Chase, I followed my sister up to the gym where she works and took one of their boxing classes. Talking wrapped hands, big gloves, heavy bags, and exhausting a lot of pent-up aggression I didn’t know I had.
refraining from doing the same jab-cross-jab to my computer screen for not letting me rotate this
My hands hurt so bad towards the end of class (unknown whether due to hitting SO HARD I’M SO STRONG or if I was just being a baby) and within the hour afterwards I could feel my legs and shoulders already getting sore. It took like 5 days to walk normal or reach higher than the second shelf of the pantry.
Cross train success?
Despite my barely functioning post-boxing legs, a last-minute offer for a group trail run Friday morning could not be passed up. I’ve been dying to get out to the trails more ever since playing off-pavement with Emily on her XC move, but am terrified of mountain lions, tripping and breaking a leg miles from my car, and/or getting lost to go out on my own.
Turns out: 1) trails are so hard & my flatland legs and just flat booty need some incline work and 2) just because you have company doesn’t mean you won’t get lost…
3) despite all that they’re super fun.
What was supposed to be a 5 mile, laid back jog turned into an 8.4 mile excursion through the very non-technical Laguna Wilderness Park. There couldn’t have been more than a handful of forks in the road but somehow we managed to take all the wrong ones and despite smart phones and masters degrees nearly had to call for a search and rescue team. Commentary during the second hour shifted from the first’s lighthearted life chats to “is that the parking lot all the way over there?” “I think I remember this hill…” “ok hold on let’s check the map one more time, just to be safe (discover we’re further than we were at last check)…”
It’s fine – not like Sheila had to call into work to postpone a conference call from the trail or I wound up half showered and late to work the LA expo that afternoon. Carpe freakin diem.
Expo’ing as an Exhibitor, not Taper-Crazed Runner
bathroom badge selfie and mass hydration – day in the life
After the trail debacle I got to hang out at the Nuun booth and chat with the RnR LA runners about my favorite hydration product and their upcoming races (I said the word “tequila” more often than they’d probably prefer, but it’s a valid selling point IMO.) Being on the other side of the booth was fun but a painful way to spend 6 hours after an oopsies accidentally killer AM workout.
Operation Feed the In-Laws
When Brian’s parents come to town we make a pretty valiant effort to mix our typical dive’y lifestyle with fun, impressive restaurants and stuff to do. Mostly because 1) we don’t want them to think we’re total bums eating subway and drinking PBR all the time and 2) because they pay so we get to try places we normally wouldn’t treat ourselves on.
This trip’s agenda, in case you’re ever in the OC and looking for some OUaL-approved spots, shaped out like so…
OUaL’s Guide to Eating & Drinking in Coastal OC
- Margaritas & Guac at El Ranchito (chile margarita)
- Pizza, Beer & Baseball at Newport Brew Co (veggie pizza, village idiot IPA)
- Sandwiches & Schooners at Mutt Lynch’s, harbor boat tour (while I expo’d)
- Wine & All the Carbs at Pizzeria Mozza (broccolini antipasti, goat cheese pizza no bacon)
- Lunch at Nick’s Laguna (pear & apple market cocktail, asparagus fries, beet & salmon salad)
- Custom Burgers, Beer & Baseball at The Counter (veggie salad bowl, lagunitas & stone IPA)
My pal KJ is from North Dakota, which is basically Canada, which I understand is where hockey trumps religion and family and world affairs all rolled together. When she found out my only hockey experience was a period (I may have said quarter) of minor league rink action in college solely for dollar beers night, she threatened to banish me if I didn’t go to the Kings game with her. So I hauled my ass back up to LA Sunday night and watched a pretty exciting couple hours of fights on skates.
My main takeaways from the ice:
- I thought nothing could top the rudeness of Dodgers fans, but it turns out Kings fans can. LA can’t you keep your trash trap censored a bit while kids (your kids!) are around? Also, don’t yell “OILERS SUCK!” during the National Anthem.
- The Canadian anthem is cooler than ours (don’t unpatriotize me!) I played college ball with a few Canucks and they have some mad love for that tune.
- Hockey is fun and engaging, and easy to follow. As a noob I never felt out of the loop but also the people behind us probably thought I was a major tool when KJ (ever so patiently) explained “crease” and “power play” and if anyone really does the Flying V
from KJ’s insta
For the Love of God and Vitamin D Get Your Skin Checked
I have my annual dermatologist appointment tomorrow to get my skin prodded and poked at looking for suspicious spots. I have a new freckle on my foot I’m a little concerned about, and I’m sure they’ll find something else to hack off and test while they’re at it. Brian’s dad nicknamed me Abby Normal because apparently just all of the cells in my body are abnormal and require extra testing. That’s a borderline TMI/cliffhanger but we’re leaving it there. Skin checks are easy and not scary so call your derm or find a derm and make an appointment, whether you’re freckly or tan or redheaded or a vampire. Prevention is cool!
And if you have questions or want help or are looking for a good sunscreen reco shoot me an email. Happy to share my (unfortunate) wisdom-ish.
And now we’re all caught up! 1300 words of nonsense later! Hooray.