Early on, I was told that the triathlete was the person who had a $6,000 bike on top of a $3,000 car. I haven't quite gotten there yet, but there are some other triathlete moments that no one had previously told me about.
I have my parents visiting me in Oregon for the first time ever. I have graciously given them my bedroom and set up an air mattress in my study. I just pretend I'm Jesse Thomas, who famously slept in his friend's closet before his big Wildflower win. So I'm sleeping on the floor, squished into my tiny study. (And I ran an 8:07 mile on Thursday! It works!)
So we've been doing day trips: Crater Lake, the coast. Crater Lake was gorgeous and tons of fun, and on the way, I realized that the tires on my husband's four door Dodge were bald enough that they chatter at higher speeds, so I decided to drive my beloved Beetle to the coast today until I have a chance to get him new tires.
My poor pop crawls into the back of my Beetle. After a few minutes, he wrinkles his nose. After a few more minutes, he asks, awkwardly, if any of us notice a funny smell.
"A rubbery sort of smell," he says.
Mentally, I run through all the things that have been in the back of that Beetle: swimsuits, running clothes, any of three pairs of running sneakers, bike shoes, bike bag, bike clothes including arm warmers, windbreakers, shorts, leg warmers, and booties (and more), snot rags, wetsuits that have been in lakes, towels, gear bags, running hats, bike tires that I was too tired to put back up on my wheel holders, tubes, newspapers that I keep to stuff into shoes that have gotten really wet, water bottles that occasionally get forgotten until they ferment and have to be bleached... and did I mention the wetsuit? P.U.
And I decide to spare my poor dad.
"Oh, I had a spare bike tire back there last week. That's probably it."