Cast of Characters; In Which Everyone Gets New Nicknames

Looking back over the training season, I have a lot of people to be very grateful for.  You just can't do this sport alone - it takes a tribe.  So, in the grand tradition of giving people silly nicknames (we'll say to protect their identities), this post is to introduce some of the major players in my triathlon life and give them some well-deserved gratitude for all they've done.

Jedi and I standing at the top of Mt. Wachusett on our anniversary -
the same spot we got married 8 years prior.

First shout out has to go to my husband, who shall henceforth be known as The Jedi.  This guy has willingly taken the brunt on my whining, my ditching him and the kids for workouts.  He's sherpa-ed the kids through several races.  Given endless foot rubs and patiently listened to me cry about my many injuries.  He's endured several training rides with me (including the one pictured) that can only be described as spousal abuse.  And he still loves me.  Clearly he is crazy.

Why The Jedi?  A couple of reasons, first being that he has an uncanny way of things turning out the way he wants.  "The Force is Strong with Him".  He has never had a bad roommate, been out of a job, or had a bad place to live.  He got to marry me (lucky duck), and be a stay at home dad.  He once conjured a grizzly bear out of nowhere while we were hiking just by saying "it sure would be neat to see a bear while we're out here" (I disagreed).  The second reason has to do with our martial arts backgrounds - that is in fact how we met.  Being raised on Star Wars, I've always been a sucker for men in silly pajamas, so when I met Mike I fully indulged my Luke Skywalker crush.  It was love at first sight.

Younger Jedi and I with our training partners and teachers

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The next important man in my triathlon life to thank is my coach Sheriff.  Sheriff and I are childhood friends - before he became a big time actor and personal trainer in New York City, he starred opposite me in several embarrassing school plays.  The first of which being Robin Hood, in which he played the Sheriff of Nottingham and I was his wife.  We were ten.  It was great.  After moving up through middle and high schools with many more embarrassments like national science competitions (which we won) and marching band (I was the drum major, he played... I want to say xylophone?), he grew up to be a great athlete and USAT coach, and I grew up to be, well... me.  But he still believes in me even though he knew me when I thought pegged jeans were cool, and I still trust him to coach me even though he spent a year of Ms. Dunning's science classes sitting behind me throwing paper into my excessively permed hair.

The Sheriff now - kick*ss triathlete

Me and the Sheriff then.  No I wasn't a cheerleader - it was the
marching band Halloween parade and I was in costume.
I can only assume his costume was "plumber"

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On the heels of that childhood memory, let me tell you about another girl that inspires the heck out of me - another childhood friend, who shall be known as [you guessed it] Maid Marion.  

Me and Maid Marion in Robin Hood

So that was Maid Marion when we were ten.  And this is her now - a National Champion autocross driver, marathoner, mom of two kids, and owner of a Baby Boot Camp franchise in New Jersey.  Easily one of the most amazing women I know, and the complete opposite of some chick that needs to hang out and be rescued by a band of outlaws:

Marion planking with her kiddos

Behind the wheel of her car, when she looks like she be lying across the hood

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Introducing another marathoner, Merlin.  Merlin is the cofounder of Girls Gone Healthy Wellness Coaching.  I met Merlin last year as our kids were on the same soccer team.  This was well before I started running.  We stayed in touch, and back in the spring I called her and her cofounder Jill for some advice.  It was Merlin who convinced me to join the gym, to get up out of bed and train, and who first casually suggested "since you already bike and run, why not do a triathlon?".  

I call her Merlin because she is a wizard (and there aren't really any good witch names that don't have bad connotations) and because she gives great practical advice.  She is wise. She has the power to transform you into a completely different person with her advise and encouragement.  She is also a potions master - a seller of the Shaklee brand wellness products, she has nearly completely cured her own son of allergies, and given me several supplements for both myself and my kids that have been tremendously helpful.  She also appears out of nowhere when you are in trouble.  Like when I strained my knee - she was at my door immediately with alfalfa to help it.  Ditto when my son had intractable vomiting.  She even conjured herself, with two kids in tow, to my first sprint triathlon just to cheer me on - which boy did I need!

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Gypsy and I at our first sprint tri

My true partner in crime is my triathlon training partner, Gypsy.  Like Merlin, Gypsy just might have magic powers.  For one thing, she is a petite girl, and yet I swear to all above she gets taller when she runs.  When this girl sprints - her legs and arms grow six inches.  She is FAST.  She also juggles being the mom of FOUR girls with a calm that I can only gawk at.  In fact, this nickname truly came to mind because once I told her I made my own daughter cry by telling her I was going to sell her to gypsies.  To which the real Gypsy said, "Oh don't worry I tell my kids that all the time".  Not alone here!!  It is also Gypsy that has convinced me to sign up for a 70.3 next spring, so I'll be needing her powers then.  You'll be hearing a lot more of our adventures together, I'm sure.

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Then there is my bestie, Legos.  (The artist previously known as Jess).  I call her Legos partially because her son is uncannily obsessed with them - he is four and can follow directions and assemble kits that would take a teenager hours, but also because she is just a great, classic, awesome person to be with.  There is no situation in life in which it isn't fun to play with her.  She gamely came out with me for the Red Rock Warrior Challenge Triathlon, and I think might be heading towards another sprint with me next year.  She inspires me daily with her commitment to health and her impressive weight loss journey since having her second adorable child.  Next up, Legos and I will be taking our kids on the Color and Glow run Saturday night - stay tuned for that post!  What could go wrong running 3 miles with two four year olds, a five year old, a thousand strangers, and a bunch of people throwing paint?

Legos and I after a color fight at the Color Run earlier this year

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Another bestie is Rio.  Yes, as in Duran Duran's "Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand".  Because that's what she used to blast in the dorm after yelling "30 second study break!" out her door.  This chick moved out to San Fransisco a few years ago and made me feel even more slovenly than I already did while pregnant, nursing, pregnant again and nursing, etc. by joining a running club and starting to knock off half marathons like it was no big thang.  Well payback is a b*tch, because Rio got hitched out there is now just a few weeks away from becoming a mommy herself.  To celebrate the fabulousness that is us, we are going to run the Raleigh Rock'n'Roll Half Marathon together in April of next year.  Even odds as to who will have an easier time getting in shape for that distance - the new mom or the train wreck that usually me.  Good times.

Pretty sure this was me and Rio on my 21st birthday....

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Another friend I have a feeling you're hear more about is Hummingbird.  Number 346 at the Red Rock Warrior Challenge - she is a runner who has been bitten by the triathlon bug.  She and I have something else in common - in our very small town, we actually both own home bakeries.  She is an incredibly talented artist in addition to bad*ss runner.  I call her Hummingbird both for one of her signature recipes (Hummingbird cupcakes), but also because she is fast on her feet and very precise in her cake decorating.  In baking and decorating, I have a style that I like to call "impressionistic".  When I make a mistake, I cover it up with frosting or a flower or something.  Hummingbird's corners are always perfectly defined, her decorations spotless.  This girl has patience and determination. I'm looking forward to training more with her in the future (though she really needs to get a bike.  HINT).

Hummingbird, me, and Legos

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My next shout out is to someone that I couldn't come up with a good nickname for as she defies description, my sister in law, Erin.  Owner of Sykes Fitness Training, mom to my adorable niece and wife to my lovable but often stubborn brother, this girl may actually be the nicest person on the planet.  An accomplished runner, cyclist and now triathlete, Erin puts more effort and genuine caring into her clients and the people in her life than anyone I know.  She recently started the PALS program for breast cancer survivors.  She has helped countless people achieve their wellness goals and inspired many, including me, to reach for the next big mountain to climb.  I am incredibly lucky to have this wonderful woman as my sister.

Me, Erin, Jedi & my bro and associated kidlets at a
SAG stop at the Prouty Ride for Norris Cotton Cancer Research last year

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Next, the other man in my life.  My boss & work-husband, who hand-selected his own nickname as "The Scarecrow that Strikes Fear into the Heart of Everyone".  Or something like that.  Which is truly ridiculous, because you're not allowed to pick your own nickname, and because he's about as scary as a Labrador puppy.  But he IS scarecrow-like in that he always makes me laugh (Wizard of Oz style), and that he stands over me at work and scares away all the nasty senior execs and other troublemakers that try to bother me and make me cry.  He is also very supportive of the cake business, the triathlon training, and every other random project I get in my head, none of which I'd be able to do with the flexible work life he defends for me.  So Scarecrow, you can keep your nickname.

Scary.......

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My last person to thank is one that will never see me race.  Our martial arts teacher, Elliott, passed away unexpectedly from cancer a few years ago.  A life-long runner and marathoner, he used to try to get me to run as well.  He always pushed me (for better or worse), and every time I put on my sneakers I think "Oh man if he could only see me now".  So E, I hope that you can, and that you are laughing your butt off.

Elliott promoting The Jedi to second-degree black belt

There are many more who have put up with me, ran with me, listened to me, consoled me, drank with me, etc.  To you all I say thank you, and that your nicknames are coming as well.... 

I Want S'More!!!

S'more cupcakes at our Farmer's Market

It is definitely fall in New England.  Chilly damp mornings give way to warmer days, and then the air is crisp again in the evening.  While many think of s'more as a summertime treat, to me this time of year is the best for campfires.  The hordes of mosquitoes that descend on us in our backyard have died down, it's just cool enough for the fire to warm you, and it gets dark early enough that you don't have to keep the kids up past their bedtime to enjoy a fire.

Which is exactly what we did the other night - two nights before the big race.  I'm going to tell you now one of the most important secrets you will ever learn in your life.  How to make a perfect s'more.

The ingredients

It all starts with the basics - marshmallows, graham crackers, and Nutella.  Wait, Nutella you say?  What about the Hersey bar??  YES.  If anyone has not yet tried this chocolate hazelnut spread (nut allergies beware), you must go directly to the grocery store and buy as much as you possibly can.  It is great on waffles, bread, fruit, and probably even on bugs, snails, iron filings, and all sort of other things as well.  It is also a great cupcake filling and the star ingredient in our Vanilla Nutella cupcakes.  Using Nutella instead of a Hershey Bar means that you get immediate and even distribution of the chocolate throughout your s'more, and you don't have the cracking problem that comes when you try to bite into what is essentially a graham cracker with gooey marshmallow and a still-rock-hard piece of chocolate.  It is genius.  My husband is the original architect of this masterpiece, and I think it's one of the best things I've gained from our marriage.  That and our marshmallow roasters:

Always keep an eye on your child labor when fire is involved

So stab those marshmallows and roast 'em, torch 'em - however you like them.  (I've learned that how one prefers their marshmallow is a very personal and often passionate subject, so I will not presume to dictate the best method.)  Then take your roasted marshmallow, sandwich between graham crackers smeared with Nutella and go for it!

Marshmallow cheeked within 5 seconds.  Amazing, this girl.

Translating this favorite treat into cupcake form is easy.  Bake your favorite chocolate cupcakes, and fill with marshmallow fluff.  I like to use an apple corer to pop out a little hole in each cupcake, then squirt in the very-sticky fluff from a ziplock baggie with the corner cut off.  Replace the cake "plug", and top with vanilla buttercream.  You can mix vanilla buttercream and more fluff together to make a more marshmallow-y frosting, if you like.  Then roll in crush graham crackers.  For our customers, we top our cupcakes with a large marshmallow cut in half with scissors that's been dipped halfway in dark chocolate.  Yum.

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So now it is two days after my big race.  Many people have been asking me how I'm feeling.  There's a lot of ways to answer that.  A little tired.  Not at all sore.  But mostly, I feel like I want S'MORE.  As I was turning out the light the night after the race, I told my husband "I feel like Christmas is over".  Except that, instead of just one month of commercialized, anxiety-ridden, joy filled insanity between Thanksgiving and Christmas, there were six months of it building up to my last race in the triathlon season.  I've poured my body, soul, marriage, and social life into training.  I've made new friends.  I've lost some friends.  I've been injured (many times).  In the end, the race went so well I couldn't have asked for anything better, and yet I'm left with the very strong feeling that a) I should have raced an Olympic distance instead of a sprint, and b) I'm not ready for it to end.

I spent most of yesterday in the grips of some serious depression, as well as Race Registration Compulsion Disorder.  It goes something like this: "I can find an Oly this year.  Sure all my weekends are booked for the next two months, so maybe October.  The air temp will be in the 40s, but maybe the water will still be in the 60s, and I have a wetsuit, so that's not that bad....  but wait I have a Sunday two weeks from now!  It's in New Hampshire.  That's a 3 hour drive.  But ok, I can take a hotel if I just do soccer practice with the kids, then deliver that cake, then drive until midnight.  The registration is $150, plus the hotel would be another $200.... so I'll need to book at least one more wedding cake in the next two months.  But all my weekends are booked.  Ok, so I'll just take some more vacation time......"  and so on.

After texting my very understanding sister-in-law who is also a triathlete and personal trainer, my coach, and various other people, I finally wrote to my Tribuddy with the problem.  She is a wonderful friend because she gives great, practical advice.  Like "sign up for a 70.3 even though you've never done an Oly".  Oh no wait - just kidding.  But she is very practical and frugal, and quickly convinced me that my crazy plan was not, in fact, in the same universe as a good idea.  Instead she suggested I focus on my running, which could use a lot of work, and would I like to do a 10K race with her that same Sunday I was targeting instead?  Much better.

Chilling in the grass

So now I'm working on a 10K training plan this fall.  Yes, I've already raced that distance, but I think actually following a training plan might help me build my endurance and speed without having to stop for injury every two weeks.  And it gives me some structure.  And hopefully, fingers crossed, lets me relax a bit and enjoy the fall and the "down time" from all-out triathlon training.

Newbie No More! Title 9 Sprint Tri Race Recap

Finished!  With my bright shiny medal

Get a glass of wine - this is a long one.  Better yet, get me one too.  Today was my final and "A" race of my first triathlon season.  The Max Performance Title 9 Women's Sprint in Hopkinton, MA.  Six months of training, two previous triathlons, one 10K, three 5Ks, and a half century ride on the books leading up to this race.  Also a sprained knee, strained hip flexor, physical therapy for both, road rash, and getting nearly every article of clothing I own smeared with chain grease at one point or another.  A lot of hay has gone into the barn for today!  But let's backup just a bit.

The Day Before the Race

We are in the middle of the crazy chaotic season known to most as "back to school".  With my daughter starting kindergarten, kids activities starting, work becoming god awful busy, and wedding season still on, we've been full out exhausted busy.  Two weeks ago I had serious doubts I'd even make it to the starting line.  The day before the race, my "rest" day consisted of a 20 minute run to calibrate my new toy - the Pear Training System (review pending).  Then the kids soccer practice - both kids, back to back.  Our baking company is a team sponsor this year, so all the more fun to see munchkins running around with our company name on their jerseys.  Did I mention we are also both parent coaches?  At 8:30 in the morning it was only 55 degrees.  I was seriously worried about the cold for the race.  Then home for several hours to put together a bridal shower cake.  By the time I got all that done, packed for the race, fed the troops, etc. I'd worked myself into a good enough state of exhaustion to go to bed at 8:30.  Silver lining, I suppose.  My 5 year old daughter crawled in bed with me - usually not allowed, but a cuddly cheerleader makes a good teddy bear for a tired, anxious mommy.

Our son modeling soccer jersey with our company name

Just a little thing I whipped together for a bridal shower

Race Morning

I woke up to the alarm at 4:15 (my husband had removed daughter from bed so he had somewhere to sleep, too, between all of us and cats).  I had everything packed the night before, so that only task was breakfast (english muffin with peanut butter and jelly), coffee, and to fill a thermos with hot Nuun - my hydration of choice for a chilly morning.  The temp had managed to climb to a balmy 59 by 5:00 am, so I was pretty psyched.  Yes, I just said I was psyched to go swimming in sub 60 degree temps.  Triathletes are crazy...

It's an hour drive to the venue, which is a state park near where we used to live.  We've spent countless days there on the beach, picnicking, hiking, and riding our bikes.  I was one of the first (of 650) atheletes there, so got a decent parking spot and even better, the end of the rack in transition.

Early bird gets the end spot

I spent some time (an hour or more) wandering around, saying hi to the few people I knew there, and scoping out the general layout.  And trying not to freeze.  Which wasn't too hard (but not easy either).

Still warm and dry at the swim out

My best bud Jess got there by 7:00 am, just in time to see me get in the water for a warm-up swim (I use this term loosely).  The water wasn't cold - about 71 degrees.  The air after was the tough part.  Practice swimming was only allowed between 7:00 and 7:30, and since I was racing as a Newbie, my wave didn't start until after all the Age Groupers - after 8:30.  Brrrr.....  Jess and I hung around for the national anthem and the race announcements, than all the athletes got herded cattle-style down the road for the start of the swim.

Transition packed with 650 racers...

The Swim 1/4 Mile (10:57)

I'm sexy and I know it

It was a long wait to get back in the water.  A long nervous wait for those around me, because I was racing in the Newbie groups.  Lost of nervous energy.  It actually made me feel a lot calmer.  We also got to see the first five waves ahead of us go out, since the swim was a point-to-point past transition to farther down the beach.

One of those dots is me.....

My only goal for the swim was to keep control of my breath so I wasn't winded coming out onto the bike.  That was a major problem at my last triathlon.  Once the gun when off, there was some jostling (newbies seem to favor the breast stroke.  Bad froggy kicks) but it wasn't long until I had my own space.  At the second of four buoys, I caught up to another swimmer and she had a PINK cap!  I'd caught the wave ahead of my own!  According to Jess I was one of the first blue caps out of the water - she almost missed me!  I shaved nearly 3 minutes off of my swim time from my first tri back in July.  All that training was worth it!!!

Coming out

Some pictures are so unflattering they must be shared

I came out of the water not even close to winded - I could have easily doubled the distance.  It was about a 200 yard run back into transition from there.

Transition 1 (2:50)

Wetsuits are hard to get off.  Even with body glide.  Enough said.  Use your imagination - it probably isn't that far off track.

The Bike 10 miles (39:43)

Time to climb

I trained hard on hills for this race, as many had told me that Title 9's course was exceptionally hilly.  True, there was a decent climb right out of transition, and a few more here and there, including one long one back into the park at the end of the ten miles.  But all in all, my bike could be summarized by three words: "On Your Left".  This is when I started regretting racing as a Newbie.  It was crowded, and it was tough to get around people.  I must have passed at least fifty riders on the bike leg - on flats, downhills, and on climbs.  Passing people is fun, don't get me wrong, but it kind of became like a video game between keeping and eye on traffic and making sure that the rider I was passing knew I was there and didn't swerve into me (which happened once.  No bueno).

Hit the brakes to dismount!

Transition 2 (1:22)

Racking the bike

Very smooth T2.  Racked the bike, helmet off, socks and shoes on (yes I sat down again), then off on the run.  I saw Jess right at the Run Out and smiled and waved at her - this next picture is the result:

Talk to the hand!  Guess I was too fast for her ;)

The Run (3.1 miles, 31:11)

Remember all those hills I said were easy on the bike?  Time to be punished.  Actually not too bad.  But I was soundly reminded that I am a slow runner as several people I'd passed on the bike passed me again on the run.  The run starts with that same climb out of transition, then another out and back to the water station, then loops around the park roads and across a dam to the beach and finish line.  Some amusements along the way were the Hopkinton High School track, field hockey, swim, and even cheerleading teams.  The second water stop was staffed by high school cheerleaders doing their routines.  It was pretty cute.

The dam - water on both sides.  In the last mile of the race,
you cross and take a left across the beach to finish.

I made it fine until I started to cross the dam.  As mentioned, we'd been to this park countless times.  I remembered one of those times when we brought our then six-month-old-daughter here.  It was the first warm day of spring, and we took her socks off in the stroller.  We strolled her out on the dam and she started laughing - those big, deep baby belly chuckles - as the wind ran through her toes.  You could just tell it was the first time she'd ever felt that sensation and my husband and I laughed until we cried.  Just as that memory was taking hold, a little girl running as a relay passed me and said "Good job!".  She must have been no more than twelve, with a long blonde braid down her back, and I swear looked all the world to me like my daughter will when she is that age.  I could hear the music, I could see the finish line.  I started to cry.  Judge if you will - you would have cried too.

My daughter's baby calendar - see the entry for the 17th?
"Hopkinton State Park w/ wind in the toes"

A much earlier picture of me and my baby daughter
that day at the beach

I did get it back together after a minute or so and finished out the rest of the run with a decent pace.  Even sprinted the chute for a 1:26:08 finish. 190 out of 685 athletes. The run was definitely the toughest, but at the end I felt like I could have run much longer, if not much faster.

Running it in

Finished!

Finishing this race was emotional.  It's been what seems like a long journey to get here.  Six months ago I couldn't run more than a quarter mile without stopping.  I couldn't swim.  I considered 20 miles a long ride.  I was ten pounds heavier and a lot grouchier.  I feel very blessed to have made it this far, grateful to my family for their endless support, and for support of awesome friends like Jess who "get it" and came out to cheer me on and take photos.

Me and Jess.  Best race sherpa ever.

I am a little sad about the triathlon season being over for me now.  I definitely cannot call myself a newbie any more.  I wish my last race had been an Olympic distance, because I really felt like today's race was too short.  I had way more in my tank.  But I am looking forward to next year - to my half marathon and hopefully the Patriot Half Ironman in June 2014.  See you there!!!

Lost in the Woods - Literally and Figuratively

It's fall.  The season that always the most like starting over.  Big changes in our house - daughter started kindergarten six days ago.  We already have a mountain of paperwork, a couple of fundraisers, and ice cream social, and something called "curriculum night" to go to.  Both kids start soccer, swim classes, and daughter starts dance.  I am four days from my last triathlon of the season.  My "A" race that I'm hoping to to the best on.  Major town fair, two wedding cakes as well as a dream cake for a seriously ill child for Icing Smiles (no pressure there!).

All good things.  EXCEPT that when you add it all together, I've been experiencing levels of anxiety that are off the chart.  And my chart has one heck of a tall y-axis!!  I've been alternating between manic levels of activity (scrubbing the house, making 3 weeks worth of freezer meals, training like a crazy person) and being so lethargic I don't want to get out of bed.  Having fantasies of taking the cat and moving to a cottage in the woods somewhere Thoreau-style.  (Why the cat?  Because sometimes I think she's the only one that loves me unconditionally.  And she's warm, which would help in an unheated shack).

Pet my tummy.  You know you want to.

On Tuesday I tried to relieve some stress with about four of our cupcakes (2 of which were the stale ones we take back from our coffee shop once they've expired.  Nasty - I'm not proud of that moment) washed down with a couple glasses of wine.  Needless to say, that actually made me more of a stressed evil harpy, which was unfortunate as it was my long-suffering husband's birthday.  So yesterday I resolved to do better.  Good night's sleep, good breakfast, and a run at lunch.  I'm tapering for Sunday's race, so my max goal was about 2-3 miles.  Just enough to take the edge off.  I much prefer to run loops than out-and-backs, so I plotted out a loop that went on a different road than usual.  Lo and behold, and what to my wondering eyes did appear but....

HIKING TRAILS!!!!

I love trail running

You don't always get a "this is the way" sign in life.....

A nice little parking lot that I'd never noticed before, with a small white sign that said "2.6 miles to Hudson St.".  As I've really been digging my run-away-into-the-woods fantasy, I abandoned my earlier plan faster than it takes me to pull on my elastic laced running shoes.  

It was glorious.  I had no idea where I was going.  I had no idea what the trail layout was.  I just ran.

I like running on trails about 5000 time more than on roads.  I love the woods. I love the challenge of watching for every next foot placement.  It's like a video game.  I love that I don't have to sweat my pace as much, because everyone is always slower on trails.  It lets me stop starting at my Garmin and stare at nature instead.  I started having deep thoughts, like.... "this the universe giving you just what you need just when you need it" and "this path in the woods is like your life - you don't know where it is going, but you're having a great time now that you've stopped checking your watch".

This is the universe telling you that your path is not this way.....

Then, just to drive the point home, the universe got me good and lost.  (Or maybe I got myself lost.  Whatever).  In a field of razorgrass, where I couldn't find the trail again for a good 15 minutes.  While wondering just how long I could be away from my desk before someone noticed, and if I'd have to call our director to come get me once I finally got out because at that point I'd ran 4 miles and wasn't sure I could make the 4 miles back the way I came.

Lost in the grass.  Somewhere in this photo there is a Great Blue Heron lifting off from the marsh.  Beautiful!

Long story short, I did get myself out and sprinted my little butt the 2 or so miles back to my desk before I was missed.  My little 2-3 mile run turned into a blissful 5.5 mile trail run.  Even kept a good pace during the miles I wasn't lost!  My legs were cut to ribbons, but I felt better than I had in weeks....

Collateral damage - must trail run in tights from now on

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All the Zen feeling was gonna be needed, because the next challenge was my daughter's first dance class.  I did NOT do dance as a child.  In fact, I am so ungraceful by nature that I was put in remedial gym class in the first grade.  (Really - that's a real thing.  These days you probably couldn't call it "remedial" for fear of harming the child's spirit or incensing her helicopter parents, but back then they call a spade a spade).

This was an event that I'd already invested hours in, researching classes, registering, and then getting her kitted out with what I thought was a decent approximation of  dance outfit.  Leotard, tights, tap shoes (one size too big, per other dance moms) and ballet shoes (also one size up, and so delayed in their arrival from Amazon that I was near panicked).  My husband started texting me at work an hour before class that her slippers didn't have a right or left and what to do?  Besides the obvious (put on feet), I put a call out on Facebook to confirm that yes that was normal.  Good.  So I packed up work a smidge early (bad employee!) to meet husband and son at her dance studio.

What I found was a waiting room the approximate size of my walk-in closet packed with at least 25 moms and their assorted children.  Hot, chaotic, and loud do not properly describe.  First day of class.  God help us all!  To add to that, my husband had settled on a look for our daughter that can only be described as "Flashdance Extra"

She's a maniac, MANIAC on the floor!!!

In the throngs of children, she was literally the only one with no tutu.  Her tap shoes have ribbons that tie, requiring the teacher to help her.  I didn't even bother to ask about the socks, but when at the end of class I told her to try on a smaller pair of ballet shoes I'd found in the hand-me-down bin, she said, "But Daddy told me I have to wear socks over my tights!".  I think my response was something along of the lines of "Well Daddy's a dummyhead" or something equally politic and mature.

Tying on her tap shoes

Last evening my husband after class my husband and I would have a fight about whether tutus "were stupid" (he says yes categorically, I maintain that it matters what the daughter thinks), if tutu, what level of "poofiness" was acceptable, etc.  All the while the voice in my head is telling me that this is by far the STUPIDEST thing that I have ever worried about and definitely that I've argued about in my life.

My insanity continued unchecked through work this morning, physical therapy (cleared for the race whoot!).  Through scouring a consignment shop for more leotards and the beginnings of their Halloween costumes, because clearly two months in advance is the reasonable timeframe for obsession to start.  Through a thousand other hysterical suggestions of what I was missing or messing up on.

Then one of my favorite bloggers, Meredith Atwood (aka. Swim Bike Mom) posted an entry entitled "The Real Business of Not Being Good Enough".  She spoke to her constant life-long tendency to keep piling her plate with more and more to do in an effort to feel "good enough" until she is in a constant state of breathless insanity (only she said it better than that).  I quite honestly felt like I had been kicked in the stomach.  I am the first to speak on women's inequality in the workplace, to repost articles from the Huffington Post about the stupidity of the Mommy Wars, but I am GUILTY of this.  SO guilty.  So guilty that if sentenced I'd be locked away in prison for several consecutive life sentences.

My race?  Worried I'm gonna look silly in spandex and finish poorly.  Not good enough.  Halloween costumes?  Worried that if I don't sew them by hand to my children's exact specifications that they will think I don't love them because I'm too busy with work to do so.  Not good enough.  Dance class?  My daughter had a ball (notice how I didn't mention that until now?).  She couldn't have cared less what she was wearing.  I was worried that the other moms in that waiting room would think I was an idiot for her crazy outfit and showing up with her gear packed in an old Pearl Izumi headlamp bag.  Not Good Enough.  How had I let myself get this worked up???  SwimBikeMom has thrown out a challenge over the next 30 days to focus on believing you are good enough.  Challenge desperately needed.  Challenge accepted.  Stay tuned....