Water Heater

I went for a run this weekend even though I made a solemn promise to all of you and to the universe that after Ironman Boulder I would never exercise again. But as it turns out, my body be doing crazy things lately.

I had a hard time figuring out what was going on at first. I felt this unbelievable amount of anxious energy, like I could run up a mountain, crab style, like the Exorcist girl. Also, I've been insanely hungry. ALL THE TIME ALWAYS. If you guys saw how many jumbo bags of peanut M&Ms I've gone through in the last 14 days you would probably start petitioning to have me on the next season of My 600 Pound Life.

I knew this couldn't be menopause because I've never gone through puberty. Naturally, then, I assumed that this was all because of disease and so last Thursday I took 5 minutes and jotted out a very simple will.

Mr. Ollie Pants will go to Matt, Jolyn gets my wig collection, and everything else goes to Bob and Cathie. I also gave very strict instructions to Young Wade to go through my whole house and get rid of all the "not that we know what that is, Cathie" paraphernalia before anyone can come over and start going through my stuff. Like, for example, my slutty outfits.

Ironman Boulder, 2015

Young Wade and I stayed with my childhood best friend Sam who lives just outside of Boulder. I dragged Young Wade out of bed at the witching hour on Friday morning so we could make the eight-hour drive from Salt Lake City. If Young Wade ever speaks to me again after the number of times I required him to be awake before most people even got to bed this weekend, he shall be given an automatic Nobel Peace Prize.

On Friday and Saturday we wandered to and fro, checking into the race, packing the many gear bags, and dropping things off at the transition areas for the Ironman that would begin bright and early Sunday morning.

Bob and Cathie rolled into town Saturday afternoon after texting me 300 times throughout the day to ask whether I was staying calm. Hashtag worried parents.

The questions were fair. I have been less-than-calm in the last few weeks, although I’ve tried desperately hard to fix this. As you know, Ironman has been a very long and often terrifying and devastatingly disappointing process for me.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.

Young Wade and I shall set sail for Boulder, dark and far too early Friday morning. Years of anticipation and preparation, disappointment and frustration, all culminate to this weekend. My stomach is full of butterflies and my legs are bouncing with nervous adrenaline.

It's been an emotional week as I've reflected on the path to this point. I'm tired and changed in ways I hadn't anticipated when I first set out to prepare for an Ironman in 2011, totally ignorant and without an accurate sense of the respect this process was due. But I've carried on, and gained that respect, at a great cost, and now I'm pretty proud of myself for paying it.

Feel free to follow my progress on Sunday on the Ironman Boulder website. I'm number 1574.

Until then, enjoy some Pictures and Distractions:

Mr. Pants, majestic. 

Heart Monitors

I wore the heart monitor for ten long days, just like I was instructed. I slept with it. I ate with it. I watched an excessive amount of TV with it. It's basically the longest and most healthy relationship I've ever had. If it could have provided Bob and Cathie grandchildren there would have been pretty much nothing left to look for in a lifelong companion.

But like all relationships I've ever known, the time came for me to take it back to the doctor last Thursday.

I turned it in. Then, like I was a rat in a lab, they hooked me up to 1,000 other pieces of equipment and had me lay down on table so they could do another what the kids are calling "EKG" which has still not really been explained to me using words I've learned.

Then, still hooked up to eleventy million things, they had me get on a treadmill half naked and run while a monitor showed what was happening with my heart. This was miserable, but also sort of interesting because I felt like I was on an episode of House.

An Unfortunate Sequel

Doctor: So I understand you have had some new episodes.

Eli: It sounds so dramatic when you say it in that voice!

Doctor: Well your heart started racing and you got light-headed and fainted. That's pretty dramatic.

Eli: I'm sorry. Did you say something? I'm having a hard time focusing because I keep saying over and over in my mind "don't take your pants off until they ask you to!"

Doctor: I want to run an EKG.

Eli: Come again?

Doctor: An EKG.

Eli: No thank you. I've already had breakfast.

The People of Ironman Boulder

Ironman Boulder is now somehow less than three weeks away AND OH MY GOSH WHO IS IN CHARGE OF TIME AND WHY ARE THEY MESSING IT UP!?

You guys. THREE WEEKS.

Wasn't it just, like, yesterday that I was telling you all about how the Tahoe Ironman was cancelled and I never wanted to exercise again but that I signed up for a race that was nearly a whole year away because dreams and goals and all of that garbage? And you guys gave me all of that BS about "never give up on your passion" and "be your own hero" and all of that other nonsense that's easy to say when you're not the one who has to then exercise for the next year? Wasn't that YESTERDAY that that all happened?

WHY IS THE IRONMAN IN THREE WEEKS?!?!

I knew I should have made a paper chain counting down the days because then nobody could have pulled this fast one on me. I could have carefully tracked the time and when I suddenly realized that the Ironman was three weeks away I could have surveyed the paper chain and been like, "nope. I've only pulled one link off." And then they would see the chain and be all like, "we are so sorry. The Ironman is far away in the future. Not three weeks away. Your hair is the wind beneath Bette Midler's wings."

St. George 70.3

I write to you now from somewhere over the Atlantic because, in a foolish daze a few weeks ago and at 2:00 AM from my office, I decided it would be a good idea to schedule an exhausting international trip for the day after the St. George Half Ironman. I'll touch base as I travel, assuming that I'm not locked up abroad or kidnapped and forced to work in a factory because according to Chase Bank, who refused to place a travel alert on my debit card minutes before I left for the airport, at least two of the countries I'm going to are on the "unsafe list." 

NOT THAT I WOULD DO ANYTHING UNSAFE, CATHIE.

But about that race . . .

Rebecca and I made our way south to the St. George Half Ironman on Friday morning quite early, at a time when, according to Rebecca, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL TO BE AWAKE RIGHT NOW!”

Contrary to my expectations, she was not cranky on the drive. But she did talk at me in one continuous breath, including a four-hour run-on sentence, until we pulled into the hot but beautiful southern Utah desert city.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

By the good graces of God, Matt got very very sick this week. He asked me if I could come to his place and take Ollie for a day or two, since he didn't feel up to taking him outside every few hours. When I showed up 14 seconds later, Matt was sitting on the center of his bed, hunched over, and looking like the girl from The Exorcist.

And I was like, "poor Matt. You look awful and WHERE'S OLLIE!??!?" And then I gathered all of Ollie's things, took him home, changed my number, and Rebecca and I entered the Witness Protection Program for good measure.

Rebecca works from home and all throughout the next day I kept getting texts that would say, "Snuggling!" "Playing!" "Sleeping on my lap!" and then occasionally, "LICKING! WHY THE LICKING!?"

Unfortunately Matt found us after he got feeling better and came and took our happiness away.

And now, your Pictures and Distractions. (Please follow me on Istagram because PUPPY.)

This is the happiest you'll ever see me. I wish we could say the same for Ollie. ONE-SIDED. 

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

So the other day I wrote about how I decided to sign up for Ironman Boulder. And in that post I explained that trying to prepare for and get to Ironman Lake Tahoe was an exhausting experience, in part because I had to drive "halfway across the country." And you guys FREAKED THE HELL OUT in the comments and on Facebook and in emails to me. Because SLC to Tahoe is apparently NOT halfway across the country. And it is offensive to anyone who has ever driven halfway across the country that I made such a claim.

Which got me thinking: I exaggerate an exceptional amount on Stranger. I think somewhere around 10% of what I say is literally true. And for the most part, everyone just rolls with it. But I finally found your breaking point. And that breaking point is overstating how far I had to drive to get somewhere.

AND I WILL NEVER DO IT AGAIN. (I love you guys. I seriously wish you could have seen how giddy it made me that several of you called me out on this. You are wonderful.)

And now, your Pictures and Distractions. (Please feel free to stalk follow me on Instagram)

It is amazing the amount of crap Ms. Hannah Rose gets me to do.

Step One, Fail an Ironman. Step Two . . .

You may have heard because I think I mentioned it a little while ago but I tried to do an Ironman this year. You may have also heard that that Ironman did not go, let's see, how do we say this, super well.

As a matter of fact, the Ironman Lake Tahoe race was cancelled just a few minutes before it started because only YOU can prevent forest fires and, well, you failed. Because there was a forest fire. And they canceled the Ironman.

I didn't really care at all because it's not like I trained for it for a year or drove halfway across the country with everything I own in order to compete.

Oh wait. I'm thinking of a different thing. I actually DID train for an entire year for this one race and then drive halfway across the country to compete in it.