The First Ladies of MAS

This was the 11th year of the MAS clan heading to Mark's cabin at Indianola.

For those that don't know (here's where I'm assuming there's more than 2 people reading), MAS stands for Mutual Admiration Society, the name given to the group years ago when we would compliment each other's attributes after each outing.  Odd, yes.  Funny - absolutely, but that's the name and it stuck.

The group changes like the tide - some years we're so big, we're bursting at the seams, other years, people have other things going on in their busy lives and there's just enough room for everyone. This year we had 8 adults and 5 kids.

It's been something I look forward to every summer....getting together with my best peeps, some we only see once or twice a year, laughing, telling stories, talking about new ventures, debating current issues (for the record...I don't think Elin deserves a dime), reminiscing about times long ago before husbands, wives,babies. 

Where the days used to consist of football games at low tide, happy hour starting at 10 a.m. and continuing until the wee hours of the next morning, lounging around the cabin with loads of trashy magazines to read, the cabin days now consist of early risers that demand breakfast at 7 a.m., constant reminders to close the door, playing with sand toys at the beach, exploring all of the tide pools and crazy sea creatures, nap time for the little one's, one eye always on the gate to the suicide stairs,  early departures from the fire to get a good night of sleep.

I wouldn't trade these days for anything.  I love seeing all of the kiddies growing up and becoming little people. I love the closer bonds of friendship that come with getting older and wiser. I guess the bottom line is I really love my peeps and consider you my brothers and sisters in our large, sometimes dysfunctional MAS family.  I'm very thankful to have you guys in my life and truly cherish the times I get to spend with you.

Race Report: Danskin

Stacy and Elena

I love race day.  Everything about it.  I always feel giddy, nauseous, super emotional.

I take that back.  I don't enjoy getting up at 4:45 a.m. to eat. 

As the sun was coming up, we drove to the race site, my nerves and doubts started to get the better of me - I didn't train hard enough on the bike, my shoulder was still bugging me, I didn't know if I could even run a block.  I need to figure out how to take those thoughts and shove them out of my mind.  While the reality was that I knew each portion of the race would have challenges, I've done this a few times and knew that I could do it, and would be perfectly happy and feel great once it was over.

After I set up my gear, we headed to the water to take a quick dip, get used to the water and see what the conditions would be.....as we got closer, you could see the large swells and the crazy choppiness of the water.  This was going to be a doozy of a swim.

My wave went at 7:45 - as we entered the chute to the water, I started looking around to find a good spot.  How I ended up toward the front and in the middle, I'll never know but I knew that once that horn blew I needed to G-O!  I must have swallowed a gallon of water before the first buoy, but boy did I have great form!  I had one slight panic moment after a big gulp....but it quickly subsided and I realized that I was just going to have to keep my head down, breathe carefully and I'd be fine for the rest of the swim.  That's until the backstroker kept getting in my way.  Who swims backstroke during a triathlon?!  I may or may not have kicked and pushed her several times.  Beat it backstroker!  My swim was strong, beat my training time by over a minute.  Yay!

Sidenote:  Why, why, why do they take your picture as your coming out of the water?  Those pictures are not pretty.  I'm disoriented, can't see, am barefoot running through a parking lot, and I look like a drowned rat.

At the transition I took it easy, slowly getting ready for the bike ride.  Mostly because I started to feel a bit nauseous, I wanted to take my time before getting on my bike.  Socks and shoes on, I ripped open a chocolate power gel, camelback on, helmet in place, I started toward the bike mounting area.  With each step I got more queasy, this was going to be a long 12 miles.  Once on my bike I felt a little better, started at a good pace and began to ride with confidence.  I hit a vertical rut and my bike slipped a little from under me....I may have peed my pants a little...it scared me!  As I hit the really narrow, really steep section of road getting up to I-90, the nausea came back with a vengence.  It was all I could do to get myself up that hill on my bike (yay! no bailing and walking up the hill).  I made it down the first hill on the freeway and had to stop.  I knew if I just got it over with, I'd feel better.  So there I was, midspan on I-90, barfing.  Awesome.  True enough, I felt MUCH better and continued the uphill and uphill battle to Mercer Island.  At the turn, I had to briefly stop and have the bike mechanic adjust my seat - my right side from my butt down to my foot went numb.  I contemplated for a split second having the medics that were standing there just load me up in the ambulance and take me back....I didn't think I wanted to go on....but I forged ahead and started the climb.  Midway through the tunnel, my chain popped off.  I was not having a good bike ride and I was pissed.  I got it back on and FINALLY made it back to the transition area to head out on the run.

My original intent was to try to run and walk.  The heat was setting in, I was feeling a little defeated, knowing I wasn't going to beat my overall time from last year.  I decided just to dig in and walk the 3.1 miles to the finish.  That last 3 miles you really see the wide range of people who are racing.  All ages, sizes and abilities are all together in this race, and it's a great feeling knowing anyone who puts their mind to it can do it.  As I made the turn, I saw an amazing thing - it was a woman who was blind, running at a good clip, using her cane to guide her along the route.  Wow.  That was amazing.

I made it up the final hill with plenty of energy and knew I could run the last portion to the finish.  As you enter Genessee Park, the path is lined with spectators cheering everyone on to the finish.  It's a great feeling, one that I can't truly describe.  I only hope that everyone gets to experience that feeling sometime in their life.  All of those people cheering you on, celebrating your accomplishment, whether it's the first time or the 20th time.  It will always be the best part of the race.....the finish.

Need soap?

I was going through some old pictures tonight and stumbled upon this........I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe! Once I stopped laughing about my obsessive need to have 12 different kinds of soap at my disposal, I realized that I was playing with the color setting on my camera....picking up only the green color.

Enjoy the photo. Laugh at me if you'd like. I'm a little odd. In a good way. :-)

New beginnings

I'm tackling a new goal.....a half ironman before I'm 40. 

1 mile swim

56 mile of butt hurting bicycling

13.1 mile run

I've got three years.

Many laps to swim.

Many miles of pedaling.

Many strides to run.

Throw in a pinch of determination, a splash of skill, an ounce of competitiveness, a sprinkle of crazy and POOF!  I'm training for a 70.3  (that's the lingo)  :-)

A camping kind of weekend

Headed out to San Juan Island on Friday for a weekend of sun, camping and relaxing with the Upstons.  As I made my way north to Anacortes I forgot about the feeling I get as I near the ferry terminal.  It literally feels as though the weight of the world is lifting off my shoulders and I'm fully able to relax and enjoy my time up in the Islands.  (this feeling quickly dissipates if you get to the terminal and find out you're not going to be on the boat you were expecting to make.....thankfully, that didn't happen this trip).

I knew I was going to spend the majority of the day alone, with the Upstons arriving in the evening, so I meandered around the island, starting out at Pelindaba for a bit of lavender time.  This is my second time to the Farm and it's still amazingly beautiful.  All of the lavender, the buzz of the bees doing their business and the yummy smell of the flowers.

After my quality lavender time, I ventured into town and I sat on the deck of the restaurant/bar overlooking the ferry landing in Friday Harbor, watching the hoards of people getting off the boat and milling about town - I laughed a little and thought.....is this the Hampton's of the West? It was funny watching everyone from the family of 6 who looked like they were from the Midwest, to the Range Rover driving couple with the Chanel sunglasses and tennis whites.

Saturday started with a little reading time at the beach, watching kayakers get prepped to head out for the day.  We then headed to Roche to meet Michael, have some lunch and hang out.  Michael kayaked from Snug Harbor over to Roche.  We had a great lunch at the pub - the people watching was spectacular!  We spotted several face lifts, eyebrow lifts, and bunches of Botox.  After lunch we meandered around the property, looking at the artisan booths, eating our weight in ice cream and stalking the wedding party that were sharing their nuptials with the everyone at Roche Harbor that day.  We headed back to Snug Harbor, spent some good reading and relaxing time at the beach (after we donned our wool hats and long johns...no joke)

 

What a great weekend!  I was sad to leave on Sunday - I wish it was easier (read: faster) to get to the San Juan's....we kept our eyes peeled for a potential single yacht owner, but didn't find one on this trip.   Thanks to the Upstons for participating in another crazy adventure.