Wedding (Cow) Bells

What does one do with a wedding at the end of the summer and a trip to age group nationals just 3 weeks before that?  One combines the bachelorette weekend with a triathlon.  

The weekend after nationals was the Cranberry Tri Fest.  A and I were registered as swimmers in Sunday's olympic distance on team with some friends from my work.  While R and L (and R's boyfriend D) were all registered in Saturday's sprint distance.  Both R and D's first triathlons.

When I suggested combining the two events, A was thrilled or at least feigned it well.  She found a little bed and breakfast in Plymouth about 30 minutes from the course that we basically took over for the weekend.  We headed down Friday night for a quiet, but lovely dinner, then got up early Saturday morning for racing and cheering.  I had signs and cowbells that I had bought especially for the race, really nice cowbells, and yes, the quality does matter.  I've gotten blisters from poorly designed cowbells in the past.

R was a little nervous about hitting the water, but D had take no prisoners attitude.

Every one made it through with smiles, at least by about 20 minutes after the race, if not the finish line.  Then there was brunch, naps, a little running, then it was time for the bachelorette festivities.  After a few party games and gifts, much delicious cheese (my friends know me so well) and some champagne, we headed out for dinner on the water, followed by partying in Plymouth.

I'd never been to Plymouth.  But it's got a cute downtown waterfront area, and a few bars I'd scouted on my run earlier.  But none seemed to be happening.  As we walked down the street, we heard, what I thought was karaoke, but turned out to just be a local cover band (!)  We head in, and we are easily some of the youngest crowd there.  Many, many 65+ year old ladies came over to congratulate me and a few to warn me away.  We danced and belted out the lyrics, and I got exactly one free drink, from one of the aforementioned ladies.  I think Paul was a little worried that there might be many dudes, but nope, there was nothing to stress him.  I think we headed back to the b&b around 11:30pm.  Really, it was a perfect evening:  great friends, good food, lots of songs every one knows, and still in bed at a reasonable hour for our races the next day.  My kind of party.

The swims went well.  Andrea's team beat my team, but I had a super fast swim (faster than nationals) that I was very pleased with.  Maybe not the average bachelorette party, but it was absolutely perfect for me.  And I was so grateful to have such wonderful friends to celebrate with.

Motivation deflation

Lobsterman is tomorrow.  I am completely unprepared.  And I don't care.

I have a few posts that I owe you:  a bachelorette party post and a wedding post.  But right now, I'm exhausted.  My motivation to do just about anything, save looking at wedding photos, is zero.

The wedding was amazing and joyous.  It was so much more than I ever could have hoped for.  But it was also just incredibly draining.  Planning the wedding felt like death by a thousand cuts.  My brain seems to be protesting organizing anything at this point.  We took a few days off after the wedding, but I feel like I could have used a few more.  Motivating myself feels like pushing on a deflated balloon:  I just bulge out to the sides, but very little movement actually occurs.

Which brings us to Lobsterman.  It's my last olympic distance race of the season.  I signed up for it thinking that there was a good chance I wouldn't want to race the weekend after my wedding.  But as I was riding high on the post-wedding, good feelings, I decided I should go for it.  I had originally thought that I might be able to post a new PR tomorrow.  Lobsterman was the site of my PR from last year.  And damn it, if I still don't want to shave those 10 seconds off my time to get down to sub-2:35.  But I fear that, at present, I lack the ferocity necessary to go out hard and red line the run.  Hell, I don't even have stretchy laces in my running shoes at the moment.

Thus, the plan for tomorrow is to just go out and have fun.  I love racing.  There's no pressure on this one.

I leave you with one of my favorite picts from the wedding.  I have no idea what Paul said that was so funny, but I just love how happy we are.  That's how it felt the whole day.

Wedding planning sucks

I read somewhere about the five phases of wedding planning. They were something like:

1. Elation!
2. Fuck this.
3. Fuck me.
4. Fuck it.
5. Acceptance.

I seem to be stuck between steps 2 and 3.