A is for...

Two finished projects posted in two weeks?  I'm not sure I recognize myself.

Pattern:  Alternate Steps socks
Yarn:  Black Bunny Fibers Superwash Merino, "Audacity"
Needles:  2.25mm
Started:  May 2014
Finished: July 2014

For years I've been trying to knit down my sock yarn stash.  Despite using up several skeins in the last year and adding almost none (maybe 1 skein in 2013 and it's already been knit up), the drawer always seems to stay full. Well, enough is enough. I've been drooling over sock yarn recently but refuse to add to the stash without seriously knocking it down first.  Last fall reminded me that I'm pretty capable of busting out socks, and since I don't have a ton of projects that I'm really jazzed about, I'm hitting the sock patterns hard.

But I'm also indecisive and I need something to guide me when it comes to picking out patterns.  Usually I rely on KALs on Ravelry, but I got it stuck in my head a few months ago that I should start knitting patterns for each letter of the alphabet (I think a group did this a few years ago).  I did a pattern search, sorted alphabetically, and picked my first pattern:  Alternate Steps.

I didn't exactly whip these out in 2 weeks, but 1 skein down nonetheless.  And not just any skein.  I believe this was my oldest skein of sock yarn in the stash, purchased in 2008.  I started 2 different patterns with this yarn over the years and always ripped pretty quickly.  It was time for this yarn to go.

Now to attack the rest.

I did an honest assessment of the sock yarn stash this week.  About 30 skeins.  It's go time.  Convenient timing since I happen to have a little more knitting time these days.

For 6 months Ironman training went amazingly better than expected.  After finishing a 20 mile run, the longest of the training cycle, with no significant problems, I really felt like I was going to make it to that start line all systems go--a huge relief after spending most of 2013 on the injury bench.  Exactly one week later and 30 days before race day, I limped home the last mile of an 8 mile run and have been sidelined since, unable to put weight on my left foot.  Doc has confirmed it's a soft tissue injury, so I'm lucky in that it's not a stress fracture, which would have ended all hope of racing on August 17.  Now I play the wait-and-see game and hope it heals up enough to for me to start the race and then holds up for 7+ hours of pedaling and a marathon. In the meantime, I'm spending a lot of time in the water, and part of me thinks this is karma's way of getting me back for skipping so many swim workouts....if so, eff you, karma.

The bright side?  With 6 hour bike rides and 3 hour runs off the schedule, I have considerably more time to sit on my ass and knit.  I think I'll go wind some more sock yarn.

It's going to be EPIC

Eagleman 70.3 is behind me.

To make a long story short, I felt great on the swim, fine on the bike, and the run was a brutal slog through the sixth level of hell.  Even with temperatures relatively mild in the low 80s, the sun beating down on me for 13 miles was a killer.  And although helpful, it ain’t much fun trying to run with cups of ice bouncing around in your sports bra.  In the end, I crossed the finish line after 6 hrs, 10 min, and 50 sec of swim, bike, run, which was 41 minutes faster than 2012, so no complaints.  I think Mike and I are pretty much done with Eagleman though.  There are only so many times you can fork over money to race in misery before you start to come to your senses.

And now looming ahead is only the big bad of Ironman Mont Tremblant. Nine very short weeks away.  I am both super excited and scared out of my mind.  I've come a really long way in the last five months but there's still pretty far to go before I'll be ready to try to cover 140.6 miles.  Distance starting building this week, and 73 miles on the bike and 16.5 of running will take a pretty big chunk out of the weekend.  Vacuuming, laundry, walking dogs, and spending an hour tonight making stuffed cabbage (yeah, weird impulse for June cooking, no explanation) and there is little time left to relax with knitting.

So, in honor of big epic undertakings (and the fact that I've barely worked on any knitting in the past week), I decided it was finally time to update my progress on the handspun afghan. To give some background, I started this project in 2011. Over the years, I bought 15 4oz braids of blue faced leicester fiber, spun a worsted 2-ply yarn, and knit each skein into a log cabin square.  Sometime last year I finished knitting the last square.

I was so excited about finishing the squares that I shoved them in a drawer and didn't think about them for months.  In March, I finally dug them out, bought black yarn, and started knitting.  A couple months and a whole lotta garter stitch later:

All the squares are assembled.  Only the outer borders are left.  I'm so close and yet there is still a good bit of knitting to go.  Knitting that I have no intention of touching for months.  The blanket weighs a metric crapton and there is no way I'm going to sit with the whole thing on my lap to knit the borders until there is frost outside.  Since it's not even summer yet, that's going to be awhile.  Thank goodness I have hours of bike training to keep me busy.  To be continued...maybe in October...  

Buttons to the Rescue

Two years ago, I finished my first (and only) half-iron triathlon, and tomorrow I will head back to Cambridge, MD to race Eagleman again on Sunday.  I’m sure I was a basket of nerves last time, but unlike 2012, this year I am not undertrained.  Weather conditions are not predicted to be the sweltering inferno of years past, and I have absolutely zero doubts that I can cover the distances and finish the race. You’d think I'd be a tad more relaxed, right?  Yeah, you’d be wrong.  My stomach is tied up in knots because I’m nervous about whether I’ll meet expectations.  Yup, that's really what's on my idiot mind today. And it's not even others' expectations, just my own. Talk about creating unnecessary drama.  

Anyway, all that was basically a long way of saying, I'm finally writing a blog post to get my mind off ridiculous race anxiety.  Because we all know that yarn solves all problems.  Or at least most.  

Despite how hectic life has become these days, I have managed to squeeze in a decent amount of knitting, spinning, and even some (gasp!) weaving.  I have tons to share, not to mention, extremely overdue posts about the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, but since I do need to actually pack and get ready to leave town, today is just about one wee baby sweater.  It's not often that I have occasion to knit baby items, but some friends recently announced they are expecting a little girl, and damn, if didn't want to leap all over the knitting opportunity.  Only problem is that I'm extremely picky when I knit for non-knitters.  I feel like the item has to be “OMG, amazing!” for it to be appreciated, and despite the thousands of baby sweater patterns on Raverly, nothing was grabbing me.  Me, indecisive?  Nah….

Sheep and Wool and Jennie the Potter to the rescue...because buttons! 

The couple are cycling friends, so come on, how perfect are these?  (I'm fairly certain I saw them on the Yarn Harlot's blog awhile ago, so yes, I'll own up that I'm really just a copycat)  The buttons made life a lot easier because immediately I knew I was knitting a red cardigan.  Of course, it is me after all, so don't think for a second that just because I settled on red, I'd have no problem deciding on yarn.  I, uh, ordered two different skeins because I couldn't make up my mind.  I will maintain, however, that the two skeins were due to concern about color misrepresentation on computer monitors and not indecision.  Yes.  Really.  

The caked skein sort of gives away which one I chose which is Madelinetosh Pashmina in Robin Red Breast (the other is Tosh Sport in Tart).   With light workouts this week to rest up for the race, I've gotten a nice start to a Tiny Tea Leaves cardigan.  

So so cute.  And tiny.  And damn, if baby sweaters don't go super fast.  But now I'm going to put away the happy distraction and actually go start packing the fourteen bags of crap I need for a triathlon.  Who came up with this stupid sport anyway?  Hmm...maybe one more row....

And I really really do have tons to share so I hope I’ll be back soon.  Sneak peak and proof crafting is happening!

So it's been awhile...

Yeah, yeah, almost 5 months, yada, yada.   Kind of a lot has happened, both in the knitting/spinning realms of my life and the non-crafty part.  I’d love to write about all the details, but to quote a favorite character, “No, there is too much. Let me sum up”.  (And if that doesn't sound familiar, it's been too long since you've watched the Princess Bride.  I'd get on that.)

KNITTING:  Holy sock mojo, Batman.  I finished 4 pairs of socks in Nov-Dec of last year.

1.  Nutkin; Sweet Georgia Tough Sock "Tapestry"; project page

2.  Simple SKYP; Sanguine Gryphon Bugga "Oak Timberworm"; project page

3.  Improvised toe-up with 2x2 ribbed leg; My handspun (!); project page

4:  Annetrelac; Rainy Days Wooly Dogs "Flugelhorn"; project page

The autumn sock knitting mojo really came out of nowhere.  Stats illustrate this anomaly best:

Pairs of socks completed in 2012: 3

Pairs of socks completed Jan-Aug 2013: 1

Pairs of socks completed Sep-Dec 2013: 6?!

The sock obsession left as quickly as it swept in because the calendar turned to 2014, and I’ve got no socks on the needles and no plans to cast on any. At least a small dent was made in the sock yarn stash before the impulse wore off.

Only one other big knitting project: Trellis and Vine Pullover (Interweave Knits, Fall 2009)

I can't even remember exactly when I finished this one.  All I know is it was after September and before Thanksgiving.  Here’s the quick and dirty about the sweater: 

• I ripped and reknit the bottom half after deciding to swap the lace/cable pattern for a hemmed edge. 
• I ripped and reknit almost an entire sleeve when I decided it was coming out too big. 
• All the reknitting must have been worth it because I wore it a ton this winter--it’s soft and super comfortable without being too warm and I adore it.  
• Soft yarn comes with a price--the sweater already looks a little ratty from the pills.  You can even see in the picture if you look closely, so, uh, don’t. (Yarn is Berroco Palace, 50/50 merino/silk.  Lovely, but pilly)

And that about wraps up the knitting.  I have absolutely zippo to show for 2014.  Not one thing finished (save a pair of sample/test socks that I can’t show off yet), and not really much started either.  Who has time for knitting when there’s….

SPINNING:

I suck at keeping track of spinning so I have no idea what I worked on at the end of 2013, but the first few months of 2014 were pretty productive.  I joined a challenge where everyone selected a "bin" of fiber to spin in 2014. 

The bin:

Progress to date:

If you want details, visit my handspun page on Ravelry.  If you’re not on Ravelry, you probably don’t care about the details anyway.   I'm a little over halfway through the bin, which isn't bad for only being a third through the year.  Except, like knitting, spinning has started to slow considerably too.  There's a good reason for that:

That “big plan” I really wanted my foot to heal up for?  Yup, an Ironman triathlon in Mont Tremblant (near Montreal) in August.  And if you're not big into the tri scene, that means a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run.  Yup, I’m crazy.  And nope, my foot is still not totally healed,  and I started Ironman training in January allowed to run only 30 second intervals at a time.  Lucky for me triathlon encompasses 2 other sports that I can spend loads of time on.  But that pretty much sucks because I enjoy running and sort of just tolerate the other 2 because the events are fun.  Oh, yeah, and it’s good for my body to diversify. Or something.  

Training is 6 days/week, with double workouts now on 2 weekdays, and lengthy weekend workouts which are only going to get longer.  Currently I'm at about 12-13 hours/week of swim, bike, run plus more time for strength training, driving to the pool or wherever I'm biking, stretching, icing sore feet, etc.  So, yeah, I'm neglecting the blog, knitting, and spinning.  Along with cleaning, shopping, brushing the dogs, and any laundry that isn't workout related.   

I'd like to say I'll be back soon, but, well, I'm not making any promises.  That said, I do have handspun epic afghan progress to share so there is at least some hope I won't fall off the Internet for 5 months again. 

70.3

If someone had told me just 2 years ago that in 2012 I would finish my first marathon and then my first 70.3 triathlon, I would have stared in disbelief.  Then I would have laughed. Loudly. In the summer of 2010, the idea of running 13.1 miles was totally overwhelming, and really the only reason I was motivated to try that was because I wanted an excuse to go to Disney World.  Hello, my name is Heather, and my actions are motivated by the same thing as 7 year olds.

Nevertheless, after 3 seasons of sprint and olympic triathlons, the desire to try a longer distance (even without a Disney reward) became impossible to ignore, and last summer I decided I wanted to register for a 2012 half-ironman.  So what if I had just worked up to finishing an olympic tri and a half-iron is more than double the distance?  So what if I like to sleep in?  And lounge around on the couch?  Who cares that my training is inconsistent and I blow off workouts all the time?  I can totally do this.  Crazy, meet Heather. 

The first sign I had entered Crazyville?  On June 10th, the alarm went off at 3:55am.  W. T. F?  Insomnia or serious partying are the only reasons people should be awake at that time in morning, and neither of those involve an alarm clock.

Within 30 minutes Mike and I were out the door, and by 5am we were walking into Great Marsh Park in Cambridge, Maryland to join a couple thousand other crazies to participate in Eagleman 70.3. 

I should so be asleep right now

First things first--my rules for Eman:

1.  DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! While this rule makes me think of keg-stands at college frat parties, at Eman, chugging down water and electrolyte-filled sports drinks would be an absolute necessity.  A long distance race + 95 degrees + poor hydration = an all expenses paid trip to the medical tent instead of the finish line.

2.  It's not a race.  Most people will argue with me on this one, but after my failure to live up to an ambitious marathon goal, I really wanted to feel happy about just finishing this beast.  So no pushing too hard early and then crashing out for the sake of 2 minutes or one spot higher in my age group or something equally meaningless.

3.  Embrace the suck.  A popular phrase among triathletes.  It was inevitable that parts of Eman were going to suck--I had to be ready for it.

The time between 5am and 7:30am is a blur of setting up my transition area, eating, meticulously applying sunblock and body glide, and squeezing into my wetsuit. My nerves really went into high gear as my swim wave time approached.  The task in front of me seemed so daunting, and as I made my way into the water, my heart was pounding and my head was racing with worry about how I would hold up on the run.  Deep breath--one thing at a time.  Deal with the bike and run when the time came, but right now just focus on going for a swim.  No big deal, right?  Just out for a nice swim.  In open water.  With a current.  Surrounded by a couple hundred other people battling for position, and a distance I probably only swam once this year.  NOT HELPING, BRAIN!  Shut up, shut up, shut up--just SWIM! 

All of that panic was ridiculously silly because I love swimming in open water, and once I was warmed up and the pack had separated, the rest of the swim was smooth sailing.  I stroked until my hand hit the sand and before I knew it, I was out of the water and it was over.  Swim goal time was 45 minutes (yes, I did still have target goals despite rule 2), and I was thrilled when I looked down and saw 42 on my watch.  Official time: 42:09.  Onto the bike.

While I like to say that I suck equally at all three disciplines, biking is my true weak spot.  I've gotten stronger each year, but I have yet to embrace the love for 3 hours on a bike.  My legs were stiff to start but loosened up, and I was happy with the steady 18 mph pace I was able to hold for the first 30 miles.  Then I started to feel really tired.  And hot.  And cranky about my stiff back and chaffing shorts.  Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.  I was biking 56 miles--it's not supposed to be easy.  See rule 3.

Miserable, but still able to smile for the cameras

I kept my weariness in check until somewhere between miles 35 and 40 when  I felt ominous chills on my arms.  I was out in the sun and it was already at least 90 degrees, but instead of sweat I saw goose bumps on my arms.  Oh. Shit.  That meant I was dehydrated.  I admit I had a mini-panic attack when this realization set in.  I was on track with my fluids, salt, food, everything, and having never been in this situation before, I was lost.  How serious was this problem?  Was I going to hurt myself if I tried to run?  Should I finish the bike and then drop out?  I wonder where that chick in front of me got those cool yellow tires? 

I biked on for another few miles, seriously at a loss.  Then I gritted my teeth and decided to pull myself together.  I gave myself a little lecture right there around mile 45. No quitting.  Not yet.  You are tired and dehydrated, but you are not going to throw in the towel.  It's supposed to suck, remember?! I started drinking as much water as I could get down, took in some more food and salt and hoped that the fluids and calories might get me back on track enough to be able to run.  (Oh my god, I still have to run 13 miles!)  I counted down the last ten miles on the bike--which admittedly just makes everything seem like it is taking forever, but I couldn't get my mind to focus on anything other than mile 50--just 6 left.  Mile 54--2 miles, Heather, just 2 more miles!  I let out a big sigh of relief as I rolled back into the park and dismounted and made my way to rack my bike.  Bike goal time was 3:15.  Official time 3:13:31, average pace 17.4.  Damn, despite my problems, I was still rockin' those targets.

T2, I think I love you

I took my time in T2, mopping off my face and diligently applying more sunscreen.  Remember rule 2.  Saving 60 seconds is not worth a painful sunburn.  Instead of jogging I walked until I hit the timing mat at the T2 exit and tried to wrap my brain around the fact that I was about to attempt 13.1 miles. Dehydrated.  In 95 degrees.  After already enduring 4 solid hours of exercise. I was screwed.

And so I began the long hot run--the beast of Eagleman--13 miles  on blacktop with absolutely no shade. I had heard all the horror stories.  From his experience last year, also a day in the mid-90s, Mike described the Eman run as: Hades, running through a furnace, and pure misery  (gee, don't sugar-coat it for my sake).  I knew what was ahead of me.  It wasn't going to be pretty, but I was going to try.  Slow and steady--no problem. I jogged for maybe a quarter-mile before throwing that plan right out the window and dropping to a walk.  My calves were painfully tight--a common problem for me running after a long bike.  I stopped and tried to stretch them out and kept walking most of the rest of the first mile.  

See ya in 13.1

At this point I seriously thought there was a chance I was going to end up walking the entire 13 miles.  I wondered if I was going to be that person whose run split was actually slower than her bike time.  Okay, forget the 2:30 target, just come in under 3 hours.  I hit the first water stop, loaded up my sports bra with ice, drank a cup of water, chewed on some more ice, and then started my slow jog again.

I was able to slowly run the next couple of miles.  The course is an out and back, and I saw Mike running strong around mile 3.  I tried not to think mean thoughts despite my supreme jealousy that he only had 3 miles left while 10 more were waiting for me.  For the next 6-7 miles, I ran when I could, walked when I needed to, poured water and ice over my skin at water stops, and very slowly counted down the miles.  I was surrounded by athletes in the same boat.  We were all battling, and I tried not to think about the fact that we all paid money to do this to ourselves.  Yup, I was fitting right in with the locals in Crazyville.

Around mile 9, I heard a volunteer say, "they're dropping like flies", and I glanced over to see a couple of athletes on the side of the road getting assistance and a ride back to the finish.  I fantasized for a moment about joining them before snapping back to reality.  I was exhausted, the tendonitis in my feet ached, but I was okay.  One foot in front of the other.  A sign around mile 11 proclaimed "moving forward is a pace" and I smiled. I was walking when I saw it.

Still vertical = victory!

For most of miles 8-11, I was able to hold a run 3 minutes, walk 2 minutes pace.  By the time I hit 11, however, I was done.  I remember trying to do my 3 minute run and only making it 90 seconds before dropping back down to a  walk.  Eh, at this point, who cared?  I got a boost from some residents partying on their front lawn and made it to the mile 12 marker.  During that final mile it started to hit me that I was about to finish a race that covered 70.3 miles.  I tried to thank some clapping spectators and my voice wavered.  By the time I turned the corner into the finish chute, my chin was quivering.  I dug deep for that last bit of energy, picked up my pace, and threw myself across the finish line with a smile on my face and tears in my eyes.  Run(/walk) time: 2:47:03.

I grabbed my medal and rushed through the finish area.  I didn't even bother to grab water.  I staggered straight to Mike and fell into his arms.

Total race time: 6 hours, 51 minutes.

Am I thrilled with my performance?  Nah, but honestly, it was about what I expected.  I was undertrained because of tendonitis problems from the marathon, so I knew my endurance was lacking and the run was going to be a long grind.  So, thrilled with my time? No. Super proud of myself?  Hell, YES!  I had good for me swim and bike times, and even in a best case scenerio, I figured my time would be 6:35-6:40, and I'm not going to get bent out of shape over 15 minutes for my first 70.3.  Besides, I could have bailed on the race when I started having foot problems. I could have dropped down to the aqua-velo division and skipped the run.  I could have thrown in the towel when I realized I was dehydrated.  But I didn't.  I kept going.  I finished.  I am a half-ironman.

What's next?  A long break to let my feet heal and then I want to do it all over again.  Hand over the mortgage papers, I'm in Crazyville to stay.

Mission Accomplished

Know what went around my neck Sunday afternoon?

I started. I suffered. I soared across the finish line. 

Okay, maybe I plodded across the finish line but then I'd lose the cool alliteration thing. 

Details soon!

Takeover

The knitting on Jordan has been finished for weeks now, yet finished-object Friday is still a fail for me this week. 

So close!

All I have to do is re-block the sleeves (uh, see how the one on the right looks a little longer?  yeah, it looks that way when I tried it on too) and seam, but I have not been able to think about anything other than the race I have coming up on Sunday.

So instead of finished knitting, today I present "10 signs the running/tri thing is taking over my life":

1. Until last month, the only new shoes I purchased in the last year and a half were 2 pairs of running shoes and flip-flops for the pool.

2. The last time I used my hair dryer it was to dry the sports tape on my feet and not my hair.

3. Although almost every pair of shorts I own are falling apart with holes, I cannot seem to find time to go shopping for new clothes, but I did manage to get to the store to buy new bike tires and running socks.

4. The refrigerator always seems to be empty, but the basket of protein bars and sports nutrition is always full.

5. I have been known to set my alarm on the weekends to get out for a long workout earlier than I do to get up for work during the week (this is a big one for me--I am NOT a morning person).

6. I sometimes look forward to Mondays more than the weekends.  Monday is a “rest day”.  Last Saturday my bike/run workout was over 4 hours.  Followed by 2 more hours of running on Sunday.

7. I was just as excited about the package that arrived this week that contained compression socks as I was about the one with fiber (at least I said "just" as excited, not "more".  I haven't gone completely crazy yet).

8.  The only knitting I did this week was when I was icing my feet.

9.  I spend as much time reading running blogs as knitting ones.

10. I've spent more $$ on race fees this year than on yarn. 

All of this due to my recent marathon and because on Sunday morning, I will attempt my first half iron-distance triathlon.  If the forecast holds, I will be trying to cover 70.3 miles (1.2 swim, 56 bike, 13.1 run) in 90+ degrees on a course with no shade. These conditions are exactly the same as last year when I watched Mike cross the finish line with muscle spasms and almost collapsing from heat exhaustion. Yet I still thought it was a good idea to give it a go this year myself. Clearly a brilliant decision. With those conditions and foot injuries that have thrown a big wrench in my training, I don't have high expectations.  I think the day will be successful if I avoid being carted off the course in an ambulance. 

Setting the bar high there, Heather. 

What I do when I'm not knitting

Most of the time, this is a knitting (and now spinning) blog, but occasionally there is just too much awesome in the non-yarn part of my life that I have to share.  This past weekend was the Columbia Triathlon.

This race was the first time I attempted an olympic/international distance tri (.9 mile swim, 25 mile bike, and 6.2 mile run), which is twice the length of some the shorter sprints I've been doing.  Not only is it a longer race, Columbia is known for being challenging (read hilly, really hilly), but there I was bright and early around 6am walking into Centennial Park to join this mass of people and set up my transition area.

Even though my swim wave wasn't scheduled to start the race until 7:40, the morning flew by and before I knew it, I was seeing Mike off, squeezing into my wetsuit, and hustling down to wade into the lake.  The swim went pretty smoothly.  It took me about half the distance to feel warmed up, but I didn't get shoved around too much or kicked in the head--always have to be happy about that.

I was a little disoriented coming out of the water but recovered pretty quickly, got to my bike (easy to spot with my new bright yellow handlebar tape), and was off.

The bike portion of the course is where I was the most nervous.  I'm not a strong cyclist, and even though I'd ridden the course several times, it has some tough spots, and I wasn't sure how tired I might feel after the swim.  The course was crowded which stressed me out a little here and there, but I felt surprisingly good.  Being familiar with the course was a huge help, and I rode it faster than in any of my training rides.  As I turned back into the park, my chin quivered for a few seconds, and I almost had to fight back a few tears since I knew with the bike leg behind me I would be crossing the finish line even if I had to walk the entire run. 

I had another good transition and was soon jogging along with just six miles between me and finishing my first olympic tri.  The run didn't go terribly well but not terribly bad either.  The heat started to wear me down, and although I tried to fight up the hills, my legs just didn't have the strength.  I ended up walking parts of just about every hill.  By the time I hit the top of the last hill, I was too tired even to be relieved. 




I trudged on and felt a surge of relief as I heard volunteers shouting "last mile".  As I neared the end, I tried as hard as I could to enjoy the experience and my first oly finish, but I was too tired to think anything other than "just keep running".

Mike had started well before me, so he was at the finish line to cheer me on.  When I caught sight of him, I threw my arms in the air for a second and powered to the finish with everything I had left. 

It was over.  I had done it.  My first olympic triathlon.  My first finish on the daunting Columbia course.

The race took me 3 hours, 12 minutes.  Not speedy compared to the superstars that participate in this race, but I was thrilled.




I cooled off in the grass and listened to everyone's stories, then headed home for a shower and a long nap.

 

If you think it looks like I barely have the strength to hold up that cup, you'd be correct.  But it was worth it.

Overscheduled and totally worth it

This past weekend was one of the busiest of my life.  I knew when I scheduled two big events back to back it was going to be a little rough.  At the end of it, I was sleep deprived and exhausted, but it was totally worth it.

Part I: Saturday
At 6:30am Saturday morning I was on the road on my way to Westminster, MD.  Not for a bike ride this time but for an agility trial.  In my very first post, I mentioned that I do agility training with my dogs.  For those unfamiliar, dog agility is where you train your dog to perform certain obstacles (jumps, tunnels, stuff to climb over, etc) and the purpose is to run your dog through basically an obstacle course as fast as you can go without making mistakes.  Each course has different challenges, and on Saturday I ran a total of eight courses with Rugby and Juno.

At over eight years old, Rugby still has some serious spring:

Agility trials used to make me really nervous.  For someone as self-conscious as I am, the whole performing in front of an audience thing is nerve-wracking.  Then think about fear of making mistakes combined with having to rely on partnership with a dog. Recipe for disaster!  But sometimes life forces you to be exactly what you are trying to avoid, and me and my goofy spaniel were often the center of attention not for stellar performance but because of all of Rugby's amusing antics.  It was pretty common for Rugby to take off and zoom around the ring or run over to say hi to the judge.  Once he left the ring to bury his head in a pile of prize toys and another time, he followed his nose right into a kitchen to see what was for lunch.  When I stop and think about it, I'm rather proud that I kept going with agility rather than giving into my fear of embarrassment.  At some point I decided to love Rugby for being exactly what he is--an unpredictable goofball.

As he's matured with age, Rugby is less of a clown at agility trials, and while he certainly still spaces out and wanders away, sometimes he puts it all together really well and we had 3 successful runs of 5 this weekend.

Juno has much more focus than Rugby but is still new to agility competitions so she can be a goofball in her own right.  As she finished a run and before I could get her leash on, she jumped over the ring gating to go say hi to a friendly-looking Corgi.  It's good she's carrying on the family tradition.  Here she is navigating her way down an obstacle.

The little girl did quite well for herself.  I only ran her in 3 courses, but she did well enough in one to earn her very first "qualifying score" and first place ribbon, which I promptly displayed on her crate.

What a good little girl.

It was an exhausting day.  I didn't get home until after 8pm and barely had enough time to pack some things and try to get to sleep before the alarm went off at 4:30am.

Part II: Sunday
On Sunday morning, I left the house even earlier than on Saturday, this time for the Iron Girl triathlon.  By 6am I was setting up my transition area in some light rain, and by 7:30am, I was in the water about to start the race.  I'm somewhere out in this big pack of swimmers.

Swimming in a group like this is always an adventure, and I definitely got knocked around a bit in the beginning, but then I settled in and just swam.  I felt like I had a strong swim, but my time was a little slower than I was shooting for.  That meant I really needed some speedy transitions.  Mike barely caught me running by on my way to grab my bike.  That would be me there in the bright blue top.

Despite the rain, the rest of the race went pretty well.  I had an average bike, but with a crowded course and wet roads, I was okay with that.  I was able to quickly transition to the run, and had my best run on this course (which is no walk in the park--okay, well, actually it is in a park, but it's still a tough run), even sprinting full out at the finish. I think I'm verging on actually considering myself a real triathlete. No pictures from the end of the race since Mike was busy volunteering. I came home and not surprisingly, passed out for the rest of the afternoon.  It was a packed weekend from start to finish but I loved just about every minute of it.

Where's the knitting? But what about knitting?! No worries, there was knitting--a decent amount actually (there's a lot of waiting around at dog trial), but I'm saving that for next post.  Psst....Goodale is finished.

Budding triathlon careers and why I should always have stranded knitting nearby

Over the last year, my husband Mike and I have gotten more and more involved in triathlon training and racing, and as the season is in full swing now, one or both of us has been racing 3 of the last 4 weekends. In June, I went back to the race that was my first ever triathlon—Tri-to-Win South Carroll Sprint. Coming with me to that race last year is what pushed Mike to want to start doing triathlons, so this year, both of us raced and had a great time.

It was particularly awesome since I put last year's time to shame!

Yesterday we headed up to Havre de Grace, MD for Mike to compete in the Diamond in the Rough Tri. Traveling anywhere can be stressful for me, and I started feeling anxious at the hotel. To cope, I pulled out and settled down with my current stranded sock project. It was a huge help—more so than any other knitting I could have picked up, and I started to realize that I almost always go into sort of a Zen place when I’m doing colorwork. I think the combination of having to coordinate yarn in both hands and follow the chart redirects my mind, and after just a few rows, my tense muscles start to relax. When I couldn’t sleep later on last night, I pulled back out the stranded sock and (relatively) cheerfully starting knitting again.

This sock is one that I really had no intention of starting. It’s the Sock Knitters Anonymous July mystery colorwork sock (Progressive Sock Party--Ravelry pattern). I have enough sock WIPs and didn’t think I was in the mood for colorwork. Nevertheless, I started scrolling through posts of knitters brainstorming colors for their socks, and I got sucked in. I didn’t want to buy yarn for the project, but I remembered my bag of Knit Picks Palette, and I pulled out some colors and joined in with the first clue last week. I couldn’t put it down. I switched it to DPN “holders” to use my circs to cast on a different sock (uh, what drawer full of WIPs?), but I just kept going with the DPNs—and I am so NOT a DPN sock knitter.

Clue 2 came out on Friday, which is why the sock came with for the overnight trip, and now I’m not sure I’ll ever go anywhere without a stranded project nearby.

As we headed to the race this morning, I had finished the foot and started the heel. It was pouring rain, and for a bit, I was quite content to sit in the car to stay dry with the sock. It continued to rain, the swim portion was replaced with a run for safety reasons, and I spent the next 3 hours getting soaking wet, shivering, and taking really terrible pictures of Mike and some of the other athletes.

And yet, when I look back at the last day, I barely remember the tension and shivering, but I do feel happy that I turned the heel on the sock. And oh yeah, of course, I’m really proud that my husband had a strong race. Now, where is that chart...?

The moral of the story? A technique that scares the bejesus of out some knitters and can be frustrating to learn could end up being your go-to relaxing knitting instead of the stockinette sweater.