Note to self ...

It's not a good idea to wear a G-string when going for a 10km bike ride.

Thank goodness I have a run scheduled for tonight (and I never thought I'd say that !!!).

Why is it ...

... that two rugrats (who, in spite of two terms of swimming lessons, and who can, I know they can cos I've seen them, swim the whole width of a pool) will refuse to put their heads under the water or do anything remotely approaching real swimming when asked by their parents ?

... but those same rugrats (when taken to the swim centre and assessed for lessons to see which class they should be in) will not hesitate to not only put their heads under water but will swim the entire length of the pool, complete with breathing, and then just to show off flip over and swim backstroke !!!

Is it just us ?!?!?!?!?

In case you're interested ...

At least until it stops hurting every time I move, I'm afraid I am going to be a little bit of a blog bore ... it's hard to concentrate on anything else ;)

Apparently it takes two weeks to form a habit ... so far I'm four days into forming an "exercise habit" ... but I feel better today than I did yesterday.

When you enter the dauthlon you are very kindly provided with a website that offers, amongst other things, beauty tips (who on earth is worried about looking attractive whilst every muscle in their body is shrieking with pain and just breathing and standing upright requires superhuman effort ?!?!?) and a training programme.

So far this week, I have accomplished the following ...
Monday : 2.5km "run" (ie. staggered around the harbour and then power-walked home)
Tuesday : 2.5km power walk, which interestingly only took me four minutes longer than my "run"
Wednesday : 8km bike ride, most of which was into a head wind

Considering I don't normally do anything more strenuous than walk from my desk to the photocopier, or perhaps into town during my lunch break to grab a chai latte (trim of course) from Starbucks ...

Be proud of me ... I am !!!!!

Why am I doing this again ?

So my stomach thinks my throat's cut ... I haven't had coffee all day and am suffering major withdrawal ...

And I just experienced what must be nearly the most unpleasant half hour of my life whilst attempting to jog 2.5km ...

I know it's only Day One and that every journey of 1,000 steps begins with the first step, but to my horror, I am that unfit person staggering / jogging along the side of the road that I normally feel like laughing at !!!!

In case you were wondering, this is the cause for my motivation ....

While up at my folks place the other day picking K up, I was leaning over the fence talking to him ...
My father (from behind me) : "You know, those jeans almost fitted you ... once"
Me (knowing full well that they're a teensy bit on the snug side) : "Pfft"
My mother (reassuringly) : "It's OK dear, it's called a muffin ... your sister and I both have one !!"
Me : "Aaaaargh !!!!!"

Now I love my mother ... but she has just turned 60. And my "little" sister is 50kg overweight. I do not want to be put in the same body-shape-basket as the two of them.

I may live to regret it. Or ... if I don't live, as the MOTH helpfully pointed out ... at least I have life insurance !!!

MOTH update ...

For those of you who asked and passed on best wishes, thanks heaps.

The MOTH is fine. Bored rigid, and hating his enforced inactivity, but fine nevertheless.

Me ... two weeks of bedrest with my foot up ... heaven. Not so much so for the MOTH. He's already making plans to dig up my will-be-a-herb-garden-one-day ("I can do it sitting on a chair with my foot up, honest !") and water-blast the house.

I just hope the rugrats are still alive when I get home tonight !!!

It's official ... I'm insane ...

Looked in the mirror last night ... didn't like what I saw ...

Found the tape measure and the scales and took appropriate measurements ... didn't like those either ...

Found my Weight Watchers points book and made a rule that chocolate is no longer a food group ...

And as if that wasn't enough ... have signed up for the Special K Duathlon in Queenstown on 19 March ...

I have eight weeks to work out how I'm going to run 3.5km, bike 10km, then run 1.5km again without dying ...

K's home !!!!!

YAY !!!!!!!!!!!!!

I've missed the little monster !!!

And I have two weeks of hugs to catch up on !!!!!!

The wanderlust has been quelled ...

Wow. It's good to be home. And I think we might just stay put for a while now :)

It was a great weekend. Admittedly, not at all what we were anticipating, but a great weekend nevertheless. The tickets didn't arrive until the Saturday afternoon mail delivery (nice way to keep us right on the edge of our seats Radio Sport ... send them regular snail mail from Auckland !!!) so we didn't know whether we were actually going until 1.00pm. By the time we packed and actually drove to Invercargill, racing for the day was pretty much finished.

So we found our accommodation (loving holiday parks at the moment, really truly loving them !!), went out for dinner at an awesome seafood restaurant where I stunned and shocked the MOTH by ordering oysters and fish rather than my usual soup and steak, and had a great night's sleep in a susprisingly comfy bed lulled by the sound of the rain on the roof.

Rolled over this morning ...
MOTH : "Good morning wife, how are you this morning ?"
Me (realising what I'm hearing) : "Oh crap !"
What I'm hearing is gale force winds and torrential rain ... just the kind of weather you don't want to stand by a race track and watch cars in.

So ... long story short ... we drove all the way to Invercargill to have an amazing dinner, watch two car races, get hailed on, blown away, drink coffee ... and then drove home again ;/

But with the MOTH having surgery again on his foot this week, I wouldn't imagine we'll be going anywhere else for quite a while ...

We're going away again !!!

K is still with his grandparents having the time of his life ("we went to the swimming pool, and then we went to McDonalds for lunch, and tomorrow we're going to the $2 Shop and Pop mowed a race track for me in the orchard and I've fed the sheep and Pop and I are doing 'speriments in the workshop and Gran and I baked a banana cake ...") so we're taking S away for the weekend.

The MOTH won tickets to the motor racing in Invercargill !!!

Who knew that listening to Radio Sport would be so advantageous ??

My son ...

K hadn't raced too well on Saturday, finishing last or second to last in most of his races against kids he could normally beat. Sunday morning we'd talked and he knew that we didn't care where he finished in the overall scheme of things, as long as he tried his best - which is always the case, but sometimes he needs reminding.

The first race of the morning he came flying out of the gate, got air on the first jump and was in second at the first corner. Then the bike went sideways and he came down. Hard. Bone-crunching-hear-it-from-the-other-side-of-the-track hard. The other kids raced past him and he was left lying on the centre of the track with the medics running towards him.

BMX racing is about points. Less points is better. You get one point for first, two for second and so on down to eighth. But if you are touched, or assisted while on the track, you're disqualified.

K lay there for a bit and then sat up, shook his head and held his hand out. Stop! He talked to the medics while they stood on the sidelines but wouldn't let them touch him. By this stage the other seven kids in the race had all crossed the finish line.

In all the previous races, the kids (and the adults) who'd come off pushed their bikes across the middle of the course to the finish line and took their eight points. Not my boy.

He got back on his bike, put his head down and he raced his way round that track, by himself, like he was in the lead and it was the race of his life. It was the bravest thing I have ever seen. And every single spectator applauded and cheered as he went past.

Actually not every single spectator. I cried. And was prouder of him than I have ever been in his life.

He went to the first aid tent after his race.

And every kid who came off their bike from there onwards rode their bikes to the finish line.

Well that was fun ....

... but it's always nice to be home :)

Camping was fun. The actual staying-in-a-tent-with-no-electrical-appliances part wasn't anywhere near as bad as I was secretly dreading :)

I forgot to pack my hairdryer which tormented me all the way from about ten minutes from home all the way north to Christchurch, but there was one in the communal bathroom :)

Sharing an enclosed space with the rugrats was pretty damned good actually. They were brilliant at going to bed when we asked them to, and obligingly slept until after 8.00am every morning :)

We had awesome weather (for the most part), and it only rained when we weren't racing :)

S and the MOTH both finished 2nd in their age groups :)

The down side was that K was very very sick. Vomiting, temperature, sleeping lots, not eating. So he didn't race for most of the week and didn't do too well when he raced on the weekend, which was incredibly disappointing for him :(

So in summary ... camping = good.

But earwigs = very very bad.