Elephant Dude

Today I volunteered. This was my third stint of volunteering at a race. First SoMa, then the Edinburgh Tri, and today the Elephant Man triathlon in Elephant Butte, New Mexico.

Each time I have volunteered, I have checked in with myself: how much do I wish I were doing this race instead of standing here cheering others on?

At SoMa, my desire was pretty high - but my arm was still healing, and everyone looked really tired, so it died off pretty fast.

At Edinburgh, my desire was very high - an international tri? How awesome would that be?! But it was raining and windy, and everyone looked cold and red. I was happy to go home after volunteering there.

Today, after seeing a hundred-and-something people slog their guts out up the hill to our aid station (the Outpost manned by the Outlaws), I was conflicted.

On the one hand, it looked like a really challenging course. It looked like all the hard ones I've done this year plus at least 10%. And I likes me a challenge.

On the other hand, this looked like a really challenging course - the kind that might have made me cry for my Mama.

Our aid station, as I mention, was at the 3 mile turnaround at the run. It was at the top of a very mean, cruel, exposed hill. This was after these nice people paid money to swim 1500m in a lake, and bike some 26-something miles of other mean cruel (and very steep) hills before running 3 miles out to say hello to us.

We were having a party up there - music, dancing girls, cowbells and gu. Yee haw! Me and GeekGirl stood out in the sun, ringing cowbells and shouting encouragement. Vegan Run Amok got a total immersion course in triathlon crazies (hope we didn't scare you off!). I brought my People and they too had a blast - they made themselves busy passing out icy cold sponges. I love that they were there and they got to see their daddy slogging his guts out on the course. They gave him a big hug round the legs and sent him on his way.

I hope our party on the hill made it more enticing for the racers to work hard to come up to see what the heck was going on.

(That strategy worked well, we got Best Aid Station for the race!)

To add to my conflict, I saw that hardly anyone walked up that hill that we were parked on. They mostly ran up. So these people, even though they were sorely tested by the course, were still having a ball.

And you know what? I think if I had been out there today? I would have too.

Instead I got a horrible sunburn.

Now, I have been known to claim to have the most fucked up tanlines ever to grace the body of a triathlete.

I know it's a family blog, but fucked up is frankly the only way to properly describe the state of my tan.

I know that here at Club Dread, we don't need to talk about my neopolitan legs, in shades of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate stripes where my bike shorts apparently vary in length. We don't need to discuss the swimsuit tan line on my back that doesn't match the shorts tan on the fronts of my legs, or the tri tank tan on my shoulders and really looks weird next to the jersey sleeve biker tanline on my biceps. We don't need to discuss the sock lines at my ankles, nor the roadrash scars and their lack of tan.

No, we don't need to discuss these - because I have a feeling that pretty much everyone who reads this blog has exactly the same fucked up tan lines I have just described.

To add my pinto-pony hodgepodge of tan lines, I now have a scoop neck and spaghetti strap burn from my cute-but-hot little black Lady Outlaw Dress. My chest, apparently not well covered by the shade from the cowboy hat, is now half-burned.

...but not all burned.

And I'm totally exhausted. It's hard work being out in the sun all day!

Nonetheless, I'm happy to have helped out my fellow triathlete friends today. You looked like a strong bunch!

(and mostly I'm happy that I ran 3 miles on Friday and had no pain in my knee. Here's to healing before SoMa '07!)