My wifely duties....

So welcome to my second official blog. Just wanted to share my two cents about a certain role I play in my life these days…athlete's wife.

Athlete's wives. When such a topic comes up (and I'll be honest – it really doesn't. Ever.), I normally tend to think of somebody glamorous and exciting like Eva Longoria-Parker (Tony Parker/San Antonio Spurs sidekick & little known actress from a not-so-popular TV show….I think it's called "Desperate Old Hot Chicks Who Have More Drama Than The Local Cineplex "….or something like that). The athlete's wife is someone who sits courtside after spending hours primping with a team of personal assistants so that photographers catch nothing but her good side. Beautiful, glamorous, perfectly put together, and quiet cheerleader from her $500 a night seats. I only picture a small select few who would fall into this category.

But no, I too am an athlete's wife. BUT there's a catch. I'm not any normal type of athlete's wife. No personal assistants to help with makeup, no $500 a night seats. I'm a spandex-wearing, shaven legged, glutton for punishment cyclist's wife. I don't pay for seating because there's no fee to watch (thank god!) and I DO NOT go above and beyond in the makeup department at these events. But like any great athlete's wife, I have certain duties I must comply with on game day (or race day in this case). Mine just don't happen to be quite as glamorous as Mrs. Tony Parker's do. Let me describe a typical glorious day of racing for the Cyclist Wife:

6:00 am – Alarm goes off. "Am I really up at 6am on a SATURDAY??" Hit the snooze.

6:10 am – Drag my "damn, I shouldn't have drank last night" ass out of bed & into the shower.

6:20 am – dress & half-heartedly throw on some clothes, a hat, and some mascara (hey, I want to look SOMEWHAT presentable, right?)

6:30 am – pile into the truck with the unbelievably perky for 6:30 in the morning husband, one VERY expensive bike whose carbon frame weighs less than one of my thighs (I really need to try that new diet – anorexia I think it's called…), extra wheels, a bag of oh-so-sexy spandex with a matching helmet, a bag of cycling "treats." And we can never forget about the "Shammy Butter." I'll let that thought marinade for a while…

7:15 am – Arrive at race site. Sit in truck pretending to be alert, interested, & not hung-over while the husband changes, preps the equipment, and warms-up. 8:00 am – drag my anti-social self out of the truck and attempt to make friends with a fellow "athlete's wife." We make small talk about the race with her while pretending to understand what the hell she's talking about when she describes how her husband "bridged up" and "grabbed a wheel" in his last "crit." WTF?

8:05 am – Race starts.

8:15 am – walk to the "feed zone" where my duties include: A) collect filled water bottles for husband and team B) hand off bottles to ONLY husband or team members (because we don't want to help out the enemy teams) while they blaze by at 35 miles an hour and try to keep from losing an arm or getting run over by the peloton (SEE?? I'm a good cycling wifey…I used a big cycling word like peloton). And don't be fooled. This "feed zone" area is intense and it's the most nerve racking/dangerous job I think that exists in sports today.

8:20 am – wave and cheer on the husby for approximately 1.3 seconds as he races by. Then sit down on the side of the road and wait.

8:40 am – Sit on the side of the road and wait.

8:50 am –start perspiring in the blazing Memphis humidity. Spot the peloton round the corner.

8:51 am – flip the husband the bird as he zips by without taking any water from me in the Feed Zone because he just risked my life for no reason. (I don't stand in front of 40 cyclists riding straight towards me at a speed faster than I drive (and that's fast…) for nothing.)

9:00 am – sit and wait.

9:30 am – sit and wait.

9:40 am – wave and yell for the second and a half the husband rides by for the 2nd and final time.

10:30 am – cheer as the husband passes the finish line. Follow the husband up the road to the car.

10:45 am – sit and listen to the husband talk with his teammates about "bridging up" and "catching a wheel." Again, wtf?

11:00 am – pile into the truck to head home with the unbelievably sweaty, spandex-clad husband, one VERY expensive bike whose carbon frame weighs less than one of my thighs (again – anorexia anyone?), extra wheels, a bag of pre-race clothing with a helmet, a bag of cycling "treats" empty wrappers. And we can never forget about what's left of the Shammy Butter. Have you figured out what this crap is for yet?? I'll let your imagination run wild….

So….needless to say, my day was pretty exciting, but not how I would imagine Mrs. Parker would spend her Saturday mornings. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy watching my husband ride, because it's something he thoroughly enjoys doing and is really good at. Not to mention those tight spandex! ;-) But the hours are long and hard in the position of a cyclist's wife. So if you have any suggestions on any strategies that might help, please enlighten me! Well, I'm off to the time trail race this evening. More glamorous action to be had. :-) Hey go team go go team.

Extracurricular activities and my new way of life...

As of late, I've become tired of being tired of not having any fun extracurricular actives to entertain myself with in between all the hours spent sitting at my desk pretending to be productive and business-savvy with my bottomless pile cheerleading-related projects at work. Co-workers of mine are always bombastically raving about their extracurricular interests and I'm tired of not sharing my two cents pertaining to my life outside of work. I'm surrounded by sewers (as in people who stitch, not to be confused with a component of the underground sewage system), rock climbers, beer drinkers, cornholers (unless you're from the south – you probably won't know what this exciting activity entails. Google that shit.), cyclists (i.e. my husband), hunters, and potters (those who make pottery, and not the other definition of people who smoke pot - though I know of those who partake in this activity). Habits of mine right now include, but are not limited to the following:

1) eating 2) sleeping 3) working 4) and wasting my life on the internet

Not a very well rounded chain of events that happen throughout the day for me. Sooooo.....I've come to the conclusion that I need to add some other sort of activity in the mix. I briefly considered penguin hunting, but I'm limited on the number of penguins roaming around the Tennessean wilderness and the zoo has strict rules about this. And I even thought about collecting toothbrush handles and doing some sort of vehicular interior design with them. That one won't work though, because a) I know nothing about interior design and b) I only own 3 cars and I doubt anyone else would let me in their car with a glue gun and crap ton of toothbrush handles. Even my 3 cars are cut down in numbers because my husband would NEVER let me get near the Corvette (or his truck, I guess) with a glue gun and a creative gleam in my eye. Anyway, I digress.

The moral of the story is that I need a new pastime. It used to be stunting/cheerleading, but there comes a day (sadly) that one must give up on the dream of doing the "perfect" cheer. Contrary to common beliefs, cheerleading doesn't last forever. So I'm starting two new things that I hope will become quickly joyous habits in my life:

Numero Uno) Blogging. I don't really know what the hell it's all about, but people do it all the time and enjoy it, so...here I am. Welcome to my first official-I'm-a-blogger-blog. (Wish me luck in keeping up with this habit! Not sure if I'm a born blogger or not...but quite frankly, it seems lame. We'll see how long it lasts.)

Dua) (*that's "two" in Indonesian - thank you to my little Indonesian-blooded husby) Running. I've always sporadically ran around my house, through dark buildings late at night, and on a stationary contraption that pretends it knows how many calories I've burned after a short stint of moving on it. No, I mean REAL running. I figured if I needed a habit, why not make it a good one, right? It's better than being a drinker, potter (as in the latter description used above), or theiver (okay, theif. But "theiver" rhymed better with "drinker" & "potter"). And my creative/artistic skills aren't quite up to par, so I figured I'll skip out on the painting, sewing, etc. and spare people who view my creations the internal dilemma of "Do I tell her 'It's awesome!' or be honest and say 'This painting looks like a 6 month old blind kid threw up on it!'"
No. Running is going to be it. And I've officially started today. (Alright, alright...technically I've ran before, but this is my first "running is my hobby" running day.) And I've even started mapping out my runs (or run – singular, in this case) on Nike+.com. As with any hobby (at least I would think it would be "any hobby" unless you're a potter), I'm starting off small. Today was only about 2.5 miles or so, but tomorrow I'm planning on running to Nashville and back. Should be a good time.

Don't worry – this will be good because now you can keep up with my running hobby through my blogging hobby. Word.