Game on

Not that we're encouraging fitness aimed solely at weight loss around here; not that we're encouraging competitive weight loss; not that we think numbers on a scale actually mean all that much ... BUT, the fact of the matter is that Eric and I both want to get down to our respective racing weights. So, the competition is open, and advice is needed (preferably the kind that advises you to eat as much chocolate and guacamole as you want). Ideas for rewards also needed.

Weigh in on the winner over here (top right).

Little League

We were feeling very sorry for ourselves, recent victims of a horrible stomach virus and adult ear infection.

I thought we'd hit the Big Leagues for stomach flu, but I was wrong: I heard about three trips to the ER this week from various friends for various stomach-related matters, so I guess we should actually be grateful.

Very little to report in the way of actual fitness. I guess I could chart weight loss and muscle atrophy in relation to number of days sick, but that would just be depressing.

1 for 3

For the first time since kids, I laid out a detailed race schedule for 2009.

So far, I haven't even made it to the starting line.

The first circuit race of the season, The Human Race, came two weeks ago when Eric had to go out of town unexpectedly -- while all the grandparents were also out of town. Some people don't crash as hard as I do after races, but I'm pretty much rendered incapable of taking good care of two kids.

Today was the spring indoor tri at the Y. Last night, my son was up at least every hour from 10 p.m. - 3:30 a.m. He's built up to taking a few sips of Daddy's "soccer juice"*, but we have to carry him from bed to couch. So, for the second of three races, I opted out.

I'm beginning to wonder what the chances are that everyone will be healthy enough on the day of my half-Ironman. Which may knock me out for a good week.

*Gatorade, which apparently no longer uses the name Gatorade on any of its packaging.

Donkey kicks and arabesques

My son and his pal, Shef, recently completed their little gymnastics class. It culminated in a performance during which much rolling, jumping and nose-picking took place by the kids, and much not-so-stifled laughter by the adults:

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have laughed, but hearing the teacher yelling "wrong way!!" as my son rolled into the 3-year-old star gymnast caught me off-guard. Especially since my son had gone into great detail explaining the complex and advanced moves he was going to perform. We also discovered that girls and boys do different moves in gymnastics. My son explained that he does a donkey kick on the balance beam:
...and the girls do arabesques. I'm not sure if it's sexism or reverse sexism or what, but it all seems a little suspicious to Eric and me. We're hoping that circus school, our continuing foray into the performing arts sports, will be more gender-neutral.