Tonight, the crew is going without me, so I have to make up a day somewhere along the way. Instead of being a Try-athlete, I am sitting at home, watching Chuck Norris try to sell me a home gym. 'No need, Chuckie-boy,' I think, 'you are too late. I have already joined the Tri club and I am Trying to get better so I can go back to Try to become an athlete. Go sell your equipment elsewhere!'
Now, maybe if I bought Chuck Norris' gym, I could become a ninja, but it is highly unlikely that Chuckie sells his trade secrets on Shaw's Channel 2. There is no way it is that easy to become "Chuck Norris".
But... I might take lessons from CN because he is no 'LOOO-HOOO-ZUH-HER!'... 'Chuck Norris won the 1988 World Poker Championship despite only holding a Joker, a three of spades, an Uno wild card, a credit card, and a wallet picture of your mom.' ... Just sayin'.... I could go places.
Anyway, the crew is gone to MacIsland tonight, and I am home, being a wimped-out 'LOOO-HOOO-ZUH-HER!', as Jim Carrey would say in Ace Ventura. It is 6:55 pm as I begin writing this. So I am going to tell you what I think is going to happen tonight.
Jenny and Lisa are already warming up on the vagina-busters. Lisa is concentrating on getting a rhythm going. Jenny is smiling and laughing with Holly, our instructor, as is our customary 'beginning-the-night routine'. Someone else is on MY 'Good Bike.' (Buddy, I'm coming back on Wed. so tell your arse to not get too settled on that seat.)
The Spin Class commences and Holly yells at everyone to, "pick up the pace!" You are supposed to be on gear 400 or something. Jenny and Lisa are givin'er... usually we are on gears 8-10 and tonight is no different. Jenny will be on an acid trip anytime now. Every now and then, Holly will let out a squeal that brings her back to reality, as it starts in your ears and goes through you at the speed of light, ending in your heart with the subtlety of pure adrenalin... her purpose is to make you excited to be alive and on that bike, I suppose, but what really happens when you are on that acid trip is that you are startled into consciousness and you fear that you are about to slam into something unforgiveably sharp.
'Pop Goes The World... p-p-p-pop!'
Meanwhile, Mat has shown up and he is running around the track like he means business. He doesn't mess around. Every now and then, he will wave at the girls. He is wearing his brand-new contacts, and has tried his new eye-juice (ie contact solution) and has found it to be better than the old stuff. I found this revolutionary miracle liquid and am quite happy with the discovery. It is like silk on the eyes. So now Mat has silky eyes as he runs around the track. This is much, much better than dried out, scratchy eyeballs.
Back to the girls... SpankaLisa is going hardcore on her buster. She, too, means business, but she has not yet mentioned the acid trip so probably she does not go semi-conscious like the rest of us. Maybe she just goes on little daydreams, not full blown trips. When I am there, I pack full 8-piece luggage sets, wave good-bye, yell 'Bon Voyage' and set sail. I like those trips - it makes the time go faster.
"Now it's time for a sprint!" squeals Newfie Holly, as she tells everyone to move their gears up higher and higher. Brent is just up ahead, legs going in circles faster than his metallic bike tires can actually move. He is like the Chuck Norris of Tri-Club... In one of his last triathlons, Brent broke the land speed record on a real bicycle that was missing its chain and the back tire. Just sayin'.
So the girls Try to sprint with the other cyclists... Holly says, "Sprint at 130rpms." That's friggin' fast, man. Sometimes, it's like the bike just moves your legs after you pedal so quickly.
Finally, it's time to get off the bikes. The girls have jello legs but they make it to the floor and do not vomit as they start to walk. So far, they have had two victories: they made it through the bike situation and they did not vomit when they started walking... yay!
It's only 7:20 right now in reality as I write this, but in the story, it's about 7:40pm. They are going to be on the Good Bikes longer than it will take me to write this.
I hope everyone's stomachs are still where they are supposed to be. And I hope no one ate Crispers before the workout, as we once did. Crispers and other strongly flavoured snacks are the sources of strong-flavoured vomit during workouts. I highly recommend NOT eating those types of snacks before strenuous activities. Even if you do not like to vomit, those snacks like to revisit.
So the girls tread around the track for awhile. At one point, someone *might* say, "It sure is weird without Terri here!" (whether that is good or bad, I don't care, I just want someone to say it!). But rest assured, ladies and gentleman, I am there! I am there in spirit, walking with you around the green and maroon track (but not in the fast lane)... I am there, commenting on the fat people below who sit on the couch watching people work out rather than work out themselves!
Oh shut up, I'm fat, so I can say stuff like that about fat people.
As Mat would tell me to say, "I'm Terri & I do what I want."
Because I am not physically there, tonight I will be their cheerleader spiritually on the track, which is a bit creepy if you think about it that way, but I mean it in a totally positive, supportive way... like in Grease, I am an 'athletic supporter'!
... I will do jumping jacks (which normally would not happen because, as we established just above, I am a big girl, which means big boobs, which means not a great idea for jumping around) ... but tonight, 'I jump around, jump around, jump up, jump up and get down! Jump! Jump! Jump!'... so there goes my pompoms, too. Picture it, people. Stay with the tour.
And by 'pompoms', I mean actual cheerleader accessories, not boobs. Get your mind out of the gutter.
On the track, I'm going to do high kicks and all. Remember, if you will, I accidently did the splits once. So, if muscle memory serves me correctly, I can do them again right here. BAM! I'll do another one: BAM!
Now I am circling the girls like a blue-a$$ fly, lending courage and support. I would massage arses if that wouldn't be weird, but even for me, that is kind of weird. But in a real Triathlon, I'd take one for the team. If an arse needs massaging, I'll do it. Especially if we are going to win something.
Back to the green and maroon track. BTW, you might as well know, I don't know if these are the right colours... it could be blue and orange for all I know... I have some eyeball colour deficiences so if I am wrong, someone tell me.
Jenny might accidently whack someone with her water bottle again, and someone might be an idiot arsehole jaws again and almost run her over because he is not being careful when he is trying to pass people. Just for the record, the person almost ran her over BEFORE the water bottle incident and it was two separate people, not a revenge tactic.
Lisa is the speedwalker and she does laps quickly. She has new runners and it looks like she is Trying to burn out the rubber as quickly as possible. Maybe she is going to see how many pairs of shoes she will go through this year. Hopefully she doesn't get a blowout.
At some point on the track, Holly will tell them to go to the core corner. They will look at the bikes, where her voice is coming from, but she won't be there. Holly will be at the other corner of the track, wearing a headset. Her disembodied voice is a bit disconcerting for everyone, like she is Ghost Newfie Holly.
When it's time for core exercises, everyone will lay on the floor and not want to get up. And by 'everyone', I mean Jenny, and maybe Lisa. Then the stretching will start, and that's the good part. The stupid plank will be stupid, and the lifting your legs a few inches and moving your torso like a corkscrew will be hard. Hopefully Jenny wore new pants.
When leaving, everyone will say hi, and congratulate them on doing well. While walking out, Jenny will no doubt beat the knuckless off her hands on the corrugated metal that holds up the ceiling. Outside will probably be ice-cold, which is sometimes a relief. BUUUUUUTTTTTT, here's the thing... no one will have apples, because I'm not there. I bring the apples. And the chapstick.
I hope you missed me, because I missed going!
You will have to tell me the real-time adventures and I will update the blog ASAP.
Tomorrow is swim night. Hopefully, there will be no little chick-lets coming to visit the special lane. We need room to maneuver so I am not assaulting anyone. I don't Try to make violations, but I am claustrophobic and I love space.
Too many foreign bodies in the special lane ends up with elbows and legs and hands where they do not need to hang out. Fair warning: if the foreign bodies are in the special lane, we end up in each other's space, and I apologize in advance that you might get hit or stripped. You might 'loser' (as in, your bathing gear, privacy or dignity).
That is all.