I am not sure if I have more bizarre animal encounters than other people, or if I am just more likely to talk about it. Anway, the last two weeks have been more animal-ey (why yes, they did teach me that word in Journalism school) than usual.
It all started a few weeks ago when I was riding my bike down a canyon, probably in the 40ish mph range, when I hit a bird with my face. Yes, my face. It was disgusting. I didnt even realize what happened until the wing was in my mouth. As a previous vegetarian (for 18 years) this was not okay with me. I was absolutely traumatized, and am still not sure how I didnt fall off my bike backwards, despite the fact I was descending.
The next week I was riding up past Jamestown (same canyon) when I saw what I thought was an albino devil goat with a beard. The thing was fugly plus a little more ugly. As I rode past, it pointed its head down, with its big devil horns pointed right at me. YIKES! I had a hard time describing the encounter to my lane mates at the pool that day, but I think I convinced them that I had seen a majestically white ram (?!) The next day, as I told my friend Brookie Cookie (not her real name….did you think it was?!) anyway, I told Brooke what I saw and she informed me that it was a big horn sheep. They are fairly common in that area. I liked it better when it was an albino devil goat….
This leads me to today. I had a fairly busy day of run, swim, coffee date, work, strategic planning with JD and Bob (his cat), and then a bike ride. I rode up the right side of the canyon, and then up the left side, and then over the backside. I was riding down the backside of Lee Hill, a pretty screaming descent, minding my own business, when I saw a bear running up towards me. I froze. I had zero options at the moment. I could keep descending and ride right into it, or turn around and go 6 mph back up the canyon. What to do…What to do….I have a life motto. I have always lived by the words “if you dont know what to do, do nothing.” The jury is still out on this motto, but until I replace it with something better, it is how I operate. So I did nothing. And watched it charge in my direction. Just than a car came around me, and slammed on its brakes. At that point the car was in between me and the monster. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably 5 seconds, it walked in front of the car, and down the other side of the canyon to the creek.
I flew down the canyon in a blur of emotions, stopped at the first intersection in Boulder…and threw up. I cant really explain that part of the story. But that is what happened. I rode through town, shaking and hyperventilating, got home, took off my shoes, called my dad, and told him “no…I am sorry…I didnt have a chance to take a picture of the bear.” I will have to keep that in mind the next time.

I did my first ever open water swim race last week. It was a disaster…
I thought I would illustrate my disaster in poem form. Enjoy!

I was very excited for the Bare Bones Swim Race,
Denny was there, I was going to swim off his face,
So when it came time to take our place,
I stood directly in front of his personal space.

The starter was counting from ten to one,
But I left on two, right before the gun,
I thought I had the swim race won,
When in reality, the battle had just begun.

I spun my arms and kicked my feet,
The whole time thinking it would be sweet,
to laugh when Denny finished in defeat,
because my false start was too hard to beat.

It wasn’t until 250 meters was swum,
that I realized what I had done,
I sprinted to the second buoy after the gun,
While the whole field swam around the first one.

Then a kayaker came over my way,
and pointed a paddle and went on to say,
“Hey pink cap girl, you went the wrong way!”
Karma will always make you pay.

At least when Denny finished the race,
he had some kindness, and a lil grace,
to wait while I finished in 60th place,
so he could announce he swam off my face.

My last post was the morning we were headed out to Memphis in May, so I will pick up where I left off. We got into Nashville (flights there were a third the price of flights to Memphis) to find that our bikes were stuck in Chicago. Which was odd considering we had a direct flight from Denver. Airlines are funny….and not funny “haha.” So we had lunch at Trader Joes, and then swam at the Tracy Caulkins Natatorium, my kind of day. The whole time I was swimming, I had a feeling of “I have been here before.” The next day I called my dad and he reminded me that I raced there when I was 10. Oh geez, at this rate, I am never going to get to my Memphis in May race report. That is okay, the race can be summed up as, “I swam on Blake Beckers feet, and then rode my bike better than last year, which wasnt hard considering I crashed my bike in the hotel parking lot the day before the race last year, but that probably didnt matter because I was riding my bike like a donkey in 2009 anyway, and then we got out on the run and everyone was doing the skeleton dance because it was a million degrees, and I finished 4th pro woman which wasnt really good or bad. The end.” On to more important things, I did not pee from before the race Sunday morning until 4 pm on Monday. That is how hot it was. That is VERY hot. Despite the hot, the fellas I traveled with all had great races. Blake finished 4th in the pro men, Justin was 6th and had the fastest run split, and Denny was one of the top age group men.
This past week, I mentioned for the 1,235th time to my parents that I would like to be the mayor of Louisville in 2035. My mother thought it would be a good idea if I became more involved in the community, so she signed me up for the inagural Louisville Half Marathon. Her, my dad, and the mother of my god baby, Erin, ran the 5k. It was a pretty fun day on a super hard course. Most of the course was gravel trail, which is good for making a fast recovery, but bad for running a smoking time. I was the first woman to finish, which means I have the course record! It probably doesnt count when it is a first year race…but..I am claiming it, haha. After the race, I was schooled on the mountain bike by my dad, some things never change. I ended the day with going to see Robin Hood (which totally made me want a bow and arrow, like, seriously. Seriously) and eating mexican food with some of my favorite friends. Things are going well.

I had a discussion during taco tuesday (which is held at the cougar’s house on monday nights, of course) with Tony, Pearl Izumi shoe designer extraordinaire. The discussion went like this:
Tony: Tingle, what size shoe do you wear
Tingle: mmmfoooourtymmmmoneishmmm
Tony: What?!
Tingle: 41
Tony: Good God you have big feet
Tingle: Because I am very tall, I need big feet. Tall people need big foundations or they will topple over.
Tony: How tall are you?
Tingle: almost 5′4″ish…ish

So there you have it. Growing up, my dad always told me to think of them as flippers. Denny has always referred to them as “corn-fed Nebraskan feet.” Luckily, my feet did not disqualify me from the Littlefoot Triathlon last weekend. And they moved fast enough to win! That was good.

The weekend before I raced the Rev3 in Knoxville. I went into the race with the goal of finishing in the money (top 10). I had to bust a move in the last mile of the run to catch 2 girls in front of me, I had just enough real estate to sneak in to the top 10. So, that was good too.

Now Black Pearl #10 (that is what I get for letting someone else name my Orbea) and I are packed up and headed to Memphis this morning! I absolutely love this race. I have had some of the best and worst races of my life in Memphis, but it really doesnt matter. I just love the atmosphere, the people, the town (especially the blues music on Beale street), I love the sticky hot humidity that makes everything so green, and i love that some of my favorite buddies from Boulder are coming to do the race as well.

I went for my usual Friday long run this morning, this time on Magnolia road, up the canyon from Boulder. It is a pretty popular run among the endurance athletes in the area. I just like it because it is uphill on the way out and down hill on the way back. Plus, it is beautiful, in a “dirt road winding through snow capped mountains” sort of way. Not everyone is into that. I am.
So I am running along, jamming to the Stones, minding my own business, when I hear hysterical screaming.”Hmmmm” I thought, and kept jamming…that is typically the extent of my “deep thinking” while running. So dont worry, nothing out of the normal has happened yet in this story.
Until I get to a long driveway with a woman standing at the end of it, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Chelsea!!!! Chelsea!!!!” i stopped, and quieted Mick, thinking her child was missing. It was at this point I heard the barking from the side of the mountain. “The cougar is up there with Chelsea.” The word “cougar” always makes me think of Erin Kummer, but no, she meant a mountain lion. More barking, a loud “RARRRRR” and then the dog was absolutely squealing. Followed by silence. The creepy kind of silence. To be honest, I find most silence creepy, but this was especially creepy silence.
I looked at the woman at the end of the driveway, checked out her footwear, sized her up, and came to the conclusion that it was probably 50/50 odds on who the mountain lion would eat next if it was still hungry. So I took off running. I was wearing this watch: http://www.timex.com/b/2229235011, because I have it in pink. And I am a pink watch type of person. The pink watch told me that my heart rate was 232…for the next 11 minutes. I think that is a world record. But I am not sure.