CATALINA FUCKIN ECO MARATHON

Yesterday was my first full marathon ever, and in Muller fashion, I decided-- instead of a garden variety marathon-- to do what is considered by most an incredibly challenging trail marathon.  That is, take a marathon, and put it up a mountain, so you're not just tackling 26.2 miles, but also hills, rocky trails, dry river beds, and sometimes felled logs.  Yeah, this is not a dirt path, this was FOR REAL trails.  For real.

So, let us review.  In Hollywood fashion, I was irresponsible my race week and may or may not have wound up drinking a few beers, a few wines, and falling asleep with my clothes on as of Wednesday.  (What?  Judge not.)  Oops.  I did my longest run on Sunday, which was pretty close, but after my nice $22 thai massage (thank you, Living Social!  Serious key to budget athleticism is stocking up on massage coupons, they help recovery so much) the knees were back and legs were feeling good, so I didn't mess anything up in that respect.  I did a few short spinning classes to keep up the cardio, a little yoga, and took off work Friday to get on over to Catalina.

The course "strongly encouraged" bringing one's own water and food, as aid stations would be few and far between, so I hit up my favorite place, Arch and Sole, to grab some Gu's and a Nathan bottle belt, which was a brilliant investment:

(The thing basically saved my life, but I'll go into that later.)

It seemed a better call than my CamelBack, which I did run with on Sunday, but seems like a sure route to double shoulder chafes-ville.  This guy sets on your hips right nice with good padding... a nice choice for the ladies.  And my Gu's and SPF 20 lip balm fit right in the side pockets.  Word.  (The pic's of an older model, methinks... mine's a different color and slightly more awesome, probably.  But you get the picture.)

Mahmmoud was his usual encouraging self, although I had to say I had NO idea what to expect, as this was my first marathon, let alone trail marathon ever, and due to the sis' wedding and Halloween and such, I wasn't so positive my training had been up to snuff.  But he said he was sure I would pull it off wonderfully.  (Didn't hurt that I did not mention my Wednesday... hydration schedule.)

And off we went to Catalina.  I had my equipment manager/chauffeur/moral supporter Jack along for the weekend, which was a fine choice, because the island, Noah's Ark style, is made for pairs.  This was most certainly not the most budget friendly of races... while I was happy to get a $10 discount online, my savings  quickly evaporated into the $28 for the parking garage and the $66 roundtrip ferry ride (on the way there, regular admission was full, so we had to do the $15 upgrade to the Commodore's Lounge... which was actually kind of fun.  Got a free cookie and beverage, boarded first.  Also got to feel somehow important.  It warrants a mention that the Catalina Express from Long Beach has the best bloody mary I've ever drunk... so good, in fact, that I couldn't wait to get one on the trip home.  Mmm.  "Shouldn't you have been drinking water and Gatorade?" you may ask.  To you, I say... hush.)  

It was my first time to the island, at it's now one of my new favorite places of all time.  SO quaint!  So charming, so cute!  Our hotel, which gave me the best rate I could find, was an adorable big pink six-story Victorian, with a B&B feel, though larger.  We ate a lot of oysters (get them when you can, and they're fresh, right?) and buffalo burgers (they live on Catalina, and are on my finisher medal-- spoiler alert, I finished the marathon) while there, as that's what you do.  We even got to sing some karaoke the night before the race, which made us a little famous.  And yes, while drinking some beer and singing sounds like revelry, we were good and got back to the hotel by 9, when I got all my race stuff in order and continued to chug my gatorade-water to counteract any poor beverage choices, and ate some prunes to hopefully... encourage regularity.

Morning came, but regularity did not, so after getting everything together, we did a quick hunt for a latte which got things "cleared out" lickety-split.  (Yeah, TMI, but come on.  I'm training for a race where people will literally pee on their bikes.)  We walked over to the start and at 8AM, off I went, up the mountain, to start the grueling task ahead.

So, one thing you might not think about if you've never done a marathon, is what to do if you have to use the bathroom.  During tris, I've always seen copious port-a-potty opportunities.  Not so with this race.  It was hard enough to get aid stations, and thusly impossible, it would seem, to get temporary toilets.  A woman who I kept up with for the first half of the race, Listy, has done 31 marathons, and keeps "emergency poop supplies", aka TP, in her pack, and says you pretty much "make four new friends" when you have to relieve yourself.  Yikes.  So that was one learning experience.  I was very happy I went through the effort to get that latte ahead of time, even if the caffeine made me wonky for the first 20 minutes of the race.  Worth it to avoid the GI drama later.  (I did, if you must know, pull a ninja-pee in the middle of the race... so quick and stealthy during a healthy distance that none was the wiser.  Skills.)  I should also mention, another major difference between this and my tris is that iPods were allowed.  WTF!  That totally defeats the purpose of the whole man-versus-self, stare-into-the-abyss-ness of it all, doesn't it?  But boy if I wasn't jealous of the chick with the Nano when all I had running through my head on repeat was Rhianna's "Only Girl in the World" refrain (I don't even know if that's the name of the song, I only know it from the radio, and only the refrain, which I recreated in my mind for HOURS on end.  That and that disco song "If You Could Read My Mind".  And no, I work out to neither.  Stupid brain.)

I thought this marathon would be a good one, as it would be scenic and cool (November 13 and on an island was promising, no?) but for whatever reason, the temperature decided instead of the even high of 72 to go for the 80s, so it was already warm in hour one of the race.  And if there's one thing you should know, it's that heat makes this girl CRANKY.  But what could I do, but carry on.  This did, however, make hydration a real issue, so it was very good to have my bottle on hand, and ready for refills.  I even took salt tablets, which I don't much do, at a couple of the tables at the start and later in the race... I think it saved me from some mega crampage.  Seems weird, taking salt, but that's one of those "athlete" things, I guess....

The first mile was up the street, and then we hit the trail, which wound around and went up and up and up.  Already I was walking a little, but so was everyone.  Walking and running is the name of the game for a trail marathon of this kind, and with my handy Garmin Forerunner, I could make sure I caught up on downhills and straightaways for the times I had to keep my heartrate sane by walking uphill-- I'd been told by a seasoned trail marathoner of the LATC that I should expect around 5 miles per hour for a trail course, so that seemed a good goal (if ambitious... I fell short of that on off-days training.)  The day got hotter, and I kept running, and the course got hairier: there was some awkward downhill stumbling, a narrowing of the path, and some steep descents that were tricky to maneuver, but I made it to the half marathon mark by 2:30 and was averaging 8:30 minute miles in the woodsy path, so I felt pretty good.  Of course I dreaded the upcoming alleged "Catalina Crush", a nasty hill at mile 19, which is just cruel in my opinion, but at least I was mentally prepared. 

I was NOT mentally prepared for the crazy-steep slip-n-slide down a dusty slope that was all but impossible not to fall on, and in mile 14, I found all that fancy footwork had led to my already occasionally tweaky right ankle to feel SUPER effed up.  I rolled it around a little, limped on it a little, walked a little, tip toed, and thought "you finally have injured yourself."  But after a few trials of pronating and doing different things, I somehow started to run again, and eventually the shooting pain all but evaporated entirely.  While many around me were cramping up like crazy, I felt suuuuuuuper lucky that my ankle moment didn't prove lasting.

So I hobbled along from mile 15 onward, walking, running, but keeping my five mile an hour goal still, and even hauled it up the damn "crusher" in fifteen minutes, gobbled down some fruit at the aid station below it and got to mile 20 by hour 4 (which I'd hoped to do, since I did that during training... but not really, 'cause during training I totally paused for bathroom and water breaks.)  Side note: if you do this marathon, definitely bring your own fuel.  I'd brought 3 Gu's, thinking I'd fruit it up and such, but a lot of the tables were meager.  The first only had water, the second had only jelly beans and M&Ms for food, and one had only candy and-- get this-- burger.  It may be the Eco Marathon, but it certainly is not the Veggie Marathon.  A few tables had better road access, I guess, and had nice big plates of watermelon and oranges, which, with that heinous heat, were sweet sweet relief.  But man, I had to ration my Gu's.  Didn't wanna bonk.

The last six miles were fairly brutal.  We all thought the "crusher" was the end of the insulting uphills, but no... it's like they just kept returning.  Of course, they were milder, and these were on the dirt roads and the like, but with the sun beating down and your feet and knees and legs all brutalized, it's a difficult thing to bear.  I was cursing the island and the race by mile 23, which I swear went on FOREVER.  The pain of the GPS watch is you get to see how LITTLE you've progressed.  Plus, somewhere I lost .2 miles, so I would always feel a little cheated when I passed a mile marker and my watch wouldn't confirm.  Ironically, I made it up and then ADDED .3 miles, which led to a very grumpy sprinter at the finish.

I passed a guy with those creepy toe sneakers around mile 24, as we neared decent, and he gave me a chocolate Gu, which he said he wasn't going to eat, and I was super grateful... I'm pretty sure that's what gave me the cajones to finish.  Down the path from whence we came I galloped, legs all wobbly and awkward, ignoring the pain, trying to run as best I could without tripping and dying on the rocky path (I have my parents to thank for our hikes in the woods... the sure-footedness I developed as an 11 year old, running down paths in sandals, jumping from stone to stone without tripping totally helped me out here.)  Right at the 25 marker at the base of the mountain, my toe just caught a stone and I pitched forward, both calf muscles seizing up in threat of charley horse, but then I caught my step and my muscles relaxed.  HUGE sigh of relief.  So close to the finish, could you imagine?

I made it out of the woods, back to the road, and passed the last aid station.  "25.5 miles" they told me, and off I went, getting to that little hysterical feeling, where you just want it over and you realize oh my GOD it's almost OVER, and suddenly it's hard to breathe, but you just gotta GO and DO IT, and I was running around 8 minute miles, and I look and it's like, where is it! Where is the effing finish line?  And people on golf carts are clapping, but I don't hear anything, and I don't see the finish, and I'm getting furious, because my GPS tells me, I'm AT 26.2, I'm done, I did it, but nothing, and I'm angry, but running, and running harder and hardest as I can, and finally I see it, and I'm panting, and saying "this is bullshit", but I still do the best I can and run in, and I finish at 5 hours, 18 minutes, and I have done 26.5 miles (I swear, those trails are sketchy, one easily picks up and loses a few.1s).

I was so glad it was over, and the minute I took off my left sneaker, my arch went into a terrible cramp, but I took a happy Pacific Ocean ice bath (no need for a tub!) which I think will do me real well in recovery.  Every race should end near a very cold body of water!

To my surprise and delight, when I leisurely hobbled over to the results, I found that I'd come in 90th out of the 250 entrants, and in my age range, I was.... (drumroll!)... second!!!  Yay!  This is the first time I've ever placed, and it was my first marathon!  (And a really hard one!)  I'm not sure how many people in my age range competed... but I choose not to know.  There were at least enough that someone did come in third, so I say... go me!!

I finally got around to hooking up my fancy Garmin to my laptop, and am geeking out bigtime over the results.  It shows me a map (an actual map!) of where I ran, and has a whole schematic of my pace, speed, elevation and heart rate (as selected) over mileage or time.  FYI, my total ascent was 5499 feet, says the watch.  Yeah, it SUCKED.  But I did it!  And I actually placed!  So awesome!!!

(This is the screen capture of elevation and heart rate.  I coulda done speed, but it was so variable.  Then again, choosing heart rate was pretty arbitrary, but whatever.  But dude: look at that first climb!  WTF!  By mile three my calves were already in dire shape.  I think the elevation map is what best translates in terms of what a pain in the ass this marathon was....)

Onward: entry for Vineman is open, and I'm seeking people to do the 3 for 2 entry.  There's always more to do!  Wooooooot! 

Hollywood Triathlete Epitomized in 48 Hours.

Good God, this was a remarkably involved weekend, and it sort of all ties into the idea of my Hollywood Triathlete existence.  Sometimes, I'll get busy with tutoring, or visiting friends, or some other randomness, but this weekend was 50% Performing* and 50% Sport, with no tampering to dillute the extreme concentrations of Hollywood Triathletics.  (*Everyone knows "Performing" also means drinking.  That's what happens after.  It's the Hollywood way!)
I could write a number of posts, but I choose instead to put it all in here.  First, I should say that I am now officially doing the Catalina Eco Marathon (I didn't have the money to enter, but finally got it together, just in time for the October 1st deadline when my LATC coupon for ten bucks off would expire!).  Secondly, I at long last got myself some new shoes!  Hooray!  Here is a picture:

(I kind of love them.)

I went to my favorite running store in all of LA, the adorably named Arch and Sole, who I've been going to for at least a year now... as you know, running shoes wear out in a matter of months, so the people you choose to buy from is an important relationship to build, because they're going to get a lot of your business, and you're going to use those shoes almost daily.  Mahmoud and Zuzana at Arch and Sole are super informative and friendly.  By now, Mahmoud knows all about my half Ironman exploits, and always remembers the races I've done and how I've improved, which frankly is awesome, and he's always interested to hear what's new and what I'm training for.  Zuzana was super helpful as it was my first foray into buying trail shoes, and brought out lots of options with tons of information that help me decide.  My favorite thing is that they're never trying to up-sell you... the shoes I ultimately bought are an older model of Mizuno trail shoes, the Ascent 3s, marked down to $70 from $100 (apparently people thought they were "too blue"... but I love it!)  I was also leaning towards a pair of Brooks, which usually don't fit me as well, but their latest trail shoe was all kinds of arch support heavenly, but those were $110, and the nuance between the two didn't seem so epic that I could justify paying forty extra dollars.  Mahmoud broke it down as I stood with them side by side, saying the Mizuno has a less flexible and more sturdy sole, as opposed to the Brooks, which has more give, and said as I grow accustomed to trail running I can move towards a shoe like the Brooks, but that it would probably be a good choice to go for the more sturdy shoe that can take a pounding (aka, the cheaper shoe.)  Yes, he encouraged me to buy the cheaper shoe, because it was the right choice for me, and he knows my fiscal situation!  How awesome.  (Of course, now I'll totally come back and get that Brooks shoe from them later.  It was dreamy.  And had really good colors, too.  I'm a girl.)

As a general note, I've got to say, I do budget all the time, but shoes are one thing you really can't skimp on, because they determine the life of your knees.  You can cut corners by getting an older model like I did (because if you bought them a year ago, they'd be cutting edge, it's not like they suddenly become crappy... but you should definitely ask your clerk, as I learned the Brooks trail shoe of yore was terrible, but this new model that I so love was a revamped version, so... yes, always purchase intelligently!) but you should never run on a shoe you know is dead, or in-- God forbid-- something like Converse with zero shock absorption.  (What are you, mad!  But yes, a friend getting into running did report to me she'd jogged in her Chucks, and was so surprised to be hurting.  Buy your shoes first, folks!)  Once you see wrinkles in the heel, it's time to shell out around 100 dollars.  It's an expense, but it's worth it to avoid wrecked knees for the rest of your life, and it will prolong your ability to keep up this wonderful fitness habit!

So I trotted away, happy with my new bright blue shoes, which are indeed quite sturdy... I tried them out in a quick Runyon jaunt, and had that great sensation like I could run forever.  (So nice to get new shoes.)  Then I got home, finished making a homemade pizza (I've become obsessed!), showered, and got ready for my debut at the iO West, where I performed all my ukulele songs!  It was a rousing success, and I spent a couple of hours catching up with my improv friends and drinking boilermakers-- oh Lord, Gatorade that isn't-- and even caught up with David Park, the man who started it all.  (Back in the day, I was chatting with him in that very bar, and he revealed that he and some other improv friends were doing this crazy triathlon called Wildflower-- yes, the one and only-- and I, in my impulsive way, said, "I wanna do that!" and I went home and dropped the nearly 200 bucks for late registry, and so was this Hollywood Triathlete born.)  I had a grand old time, came home and ate the rest of my homemade pizza (drunk stomach), and stayed up until 3AM watching Parv, another friend through improv, on Hulu in the pilot of the new TV show "Outsourced".  Perhaps not the best behavior for an athlete.  But you know, add Hollywood to the front, and it all makes sense.  Hollywood is synonymous with irresponsible behavior... and fun things.

So, we're in that wretched time in LA where you think, by God, we're in the clear, we've escaped the hellish oven of summer weather (though that didn't happen so much this time around, blessedly), and then whamo, a weird "Indian Summer" heatwave leaves you paralyzed for days of high 90s weather.  And the very worst thing about that is that it makes outdoor exercise nearly entirely impossible, and certainly impossible if it's long, enduring outdoor runs on trails, which is exactly what I needed to do for 17 miles on Sunday, my long run day.  So I knew I'd have to get up and be on the trails by 7ish, which meant I did get up... maybe still drunk... on my wonderful four hours of sleep, take the very effective Brazilian hangover medicine, Engov, drink lots of water and head over to Griffith Park, where I ran from 7:30 until 10:30, much to my amazement. Amazed, because I only started walking hills-- was trying for lower heart rate, as instructed-- at 10, when the heat really started to kick in and it became insupportable.  I'm pretty sure I did at least 15 miles, and had a lot of good hills in the mix.  I've been finding my right hammy is tending to be tight, and that might require some foam roller action, but I'll save that for another post.

So then it was back here, to post all my youtube videos of my ukulele show, and cook for the week as best I could, and I still haven't napped, but am in this very peaceful meditative frame of mind, which I think will translate into early bedtime.  But of course, not before making more homemade pizza!  I've discovered the trick to making the crust thin, and it's the most exciting thing... ever.  So I'm going to end this blog with my pizza recipe, because if you make it right, pizza can be a great little meal for a triathlete.

To review: new shoes, big show, celebrations and hungover 17 mile run = Hollywood triathlete.

Nikki's New Favorite Meal: Homemade Pizza!
(to be fair, I don't make the sauce, so really I'm only fixated on the crust.)

To make the crust, you'll need:
1 cup white whole wheat flour
1 cup bread flour (you can do both whole wheat, but the consistency won't be as awesome)
2 tsp sugar (I use raw sugar or agave)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 package of yeast
1 cup warm water
3/4 tsp of salt (or omit if you're not into that whole sodium thing)
Garlic powder and basil to taste

Dissolve the yeast into the water and let it sit for 10 minutes, until creamy.  Make a dry mixture of ingredients, then mix everything together until combined evenly.  Let it rise for 30 minutes.  Knead on a floured surface.
*Here's where my special technique comes up:
Preheat the oven to 400 F. Divide the dough into two balls.  Place parchment paper on your pizza stone or pan and tamp out the dough ball with your fingertips so it's as thin as you can manage, without making any holes.  (It'll be about 10 inches in diameter.)  Add on pizza sauce, cut up garlic cloves, spinach, fat free feta, chicken sausage and a sprinkle of low fat mozzarella.  (Or you know, whatever you like.)  For the particularly ambitious, you can make a stuffed crust with a low fat string cheese, if you peel it apart and fold it into the edges.

I like doing it this way because it's less carby and also just has a better balance of ingredients.  If you use the whole dough ball, even when you think you've made it thin, you'll wind up with this balloon crust, since it rises a bit again in the oven.  The whole wheat substitution totally still tastes delicious, though I've yet to try without any bread flour.  Enjoy!

The road ahead.

Well, I think it's time I set some goals, and then get a game plan.  We all know the full Ironman is the ultimate, but that's not for nearly a year, and so actual training for the Big One shall not commence until the six month mark.  Then it's full GAME ON.

In the meantime, I've decided to do a trail marathon (Catalina Eco Marathon) in November, as I've never done a full marathon, and trail marathons are super badass hardcore, and I enjoy doing all things to the limit.  And they are also way cheaper than tris, so it's about all I can afford presently.  Actors are poor, as a rule.  Until they are successful, which is possibly never.

Anywho, it's a baby GAME ON with training for the marathon for the time being.  This will give me a good opportunity to hone in some good habits and maybe eliminate the bad ones.  I'm being good in actually doing weight training this time around, as I don't want to atrophy into a creepy looking Holocausty spectre like so many marathon runners I've seen.  But have you seen me lately?  I'm quite a hunk of woman.  Still, I don't relish the idea of my muscles EATING themselves, so I'm into it.  Also still swimming, and doing some biking for cross training, and of course, my dearly beloved yoga's in the mix.  Finding the time (and still practicing the uke and recording silly raps and flip cam-ing music videos) is always a challenge, but I've been waking early.  So far, not so bad.

Except.....  Worst habit: BAD NUTRITION.

Yeah, what can I say... today I basically ate a bag of Peanut M&Ms and then a fat free chocolate frozen yogurt (with chocolate sprinkles, an homage to my favorite childhood treat at Carvel back in NY) for dinner.  Not really the dinner of champions.  But when you're sitting, waiting for your Five Hour Energy audition with this incredibly wordy piece of copy to remember and you feel yourself waning, sometimes the only thing that can get you through is-- no, not Five Hour Energy-- but Peanut M&Ms.  And then, as you make the trek through nasty Westside traffic back to Hollywood and pass the Big Chill, well, how often are you near that yogurt store with the incredible Ghiardelli fat free chocolate yogurt that tastes so much like your favorite Carvel soft serve?  And hence, the poor dinner.

I did still do a Runyon run up the hill-- albeit in near darkness, as it was late once I got back, and then over an hour of weights and abs.  Talk about a GI nightmare-- good thing my roomie's out of town at a wedding.  (Read: ab work + gas = very audible gastrointestinal action.)  I have no problem in making myself be active.  I can say yes to almost anything.  And therefore, I suppose, the problem with diet.  Diet means saying no.  I love saying yes to food.  It's such a lovely thing.

I do admit that I have a very bad relationship with impulsive eating, portion control, and sugar.  Give me a box of cookies and that box is effed, because I will eat the whole thing, like a horse and a big vat of oats.  I can sometimes hang on to some modicum of self-control if I FORCE myself to use my iPod app, "Lose It", where you can track all the calories you intake and expend by logging your food and exercise.  Swell little thing, super convenient, and I became a slave to it for some time.  It's good for parties, when you go on autopilot and start Hoovering the Doritos.  Fessing up to your iPod of that is quite the Mea Culpa moment, and gives you pause next time you reach chipward.

But I love being able to eat without feeling stereotypically female and anal retentive.  (I go through love hate relationships with that app for that reason... what a loser, having to log all my food.  Can't I just eat what I want and be healthy?  But no, the answer is no.  I invariably go back to the overeating habit if I part with the pod.  I blame weed, too.)  Part of the reason I became interested in endurance sports was that, beside the fact that I found I could do cardiovascular activity for ages and not fatigue, I also super dug the multi thousand calorie burn and the fact that I could totally, what, eat frozen yogurt for dinner and not have to beat myself up too much, as my calorie deficit was already so great.  But that's no good... I want to be a respectable-like triathlete, and be nice to my body.  It's already getting punished enough, is it not?

I considered cutting out sugar altogether, because clearly I'm an addict, and I think I'll still go for it... at least refined sugar... but it's in too many of the quick fuel items I like to train with, so I don't know if that will ruin my good intentions.  My hope is that by keeping track of my training and habits and the like on this here blog, and next time I reach for that bag of Peanut M&Ms I'll think, "what would the VAST audience of Hollywood Triathlete readers think??"  (Because I'm sure you are a vast, vast audience.)  I'm stealing this idea from "Fat Biker", who I heard about on NPR.  But he's way more noble than I.  I just want to do endurance sports and write funny ukulele songs.  And fit into the very pretty but very petite dress I am to wear at my sister's wedding come October 23.

I think taking on the mindset of nutrition as an aid to my training is the best way to go.  That way I am simply saying yes to becoming a better triathlete instead of saying no to delicious cheese (oh, cheese!)  I'll keep ya posted on what works and where I fail as I give it the old college tri (haha.)  There are a few nutrition books I'm gonna look into, once I have the expendible income of 30 bucks to get them.  (Not kidding about the budget here, folks.)

One awesome recipe that I gleaned from a woman I babysit/tutor for is for Kale Chips.  I adore roasted seaweed: it's packed with vitamins and satisfies the same salty craving without the terrible guilt potato chips would engender.  And so I try to have a crapload on hand in case of emergency crave.  [Trader Joe's has em for a dollar a pack, but you can get them in three packs for under two bucks from Asian Grocery stores... check out HK Market on Western in Ktown, if you live in LA, of course.]  Kale is another fabulous leafy green with all them good minerals, and it turns out, it can make a totally kickass ersatz potato chip similar to the seaweed.  Crunchy, flaky, and not bad for you.  Hooray!

Here's what you do:

Kale Chips
Ingredients:
A big buncha Kale
Olive Oil
Salt
(I added a squish of garlic for flavor)

Preheat oven to 250F.  Pick kale leaves off of the rough stem, toss them in olive oil and salt.  Spread them evenly on baking sheets lined with parchment paper and bake for 30 minutes until completely crisp and dry.

A-mazing.  J'adore.  Special thanks to Randi for revolutionizing my kale worldview.  (I do have some other Kale recipes I may share later.  We shall see.)

Bed is calling, and I've yet to decide how to fit in whatever workout I'll do tomorrow... am getting tazered for Tosh.0 in the afternoon and then picking up my grad school friend from LAX, so it'll have to be a morning workout.  Bah!  Oh the life.

Your Hollywood Triathlete,
Nik